Stephen Malkmus and The Jicks, Mirror Traffic
Reviewed by: Christian Hagen
It’s been eleven years since Pavement officially announced their breakup and singer Stephen Malkmus started working on his life as a solo musician. For young, wistful indie rock fans of today, the idea of hearing new Pavement material is one of those wonderful, impossible dreams. Imagine the feeling of hearing Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain when it was first released in 1994, or of slipping on your headphones in 1997 and hearing the first twangs of “Stereo” when it was fresh. It seems like it wasn’t that long ago, but as any casual glance at the web can prove, this generation has already turned the 90s into a time of distant nostalgia.
Malkmus’s solo output has never before captured that revolutionary quality, his former band’s incredible ability to make slacker rock sound energetic and make fuzz rock that was extraordinarily catchy. On the albums he’s made since going solo, he’s alternated between tongue-in-cheek noise experiments, meandering psych-jams, and half-hearted stabs at pop-rock glory. At times he’s made something worthwhile. Mostly, he’s sounded like he’s just been screwing around, never quite reaching the level of inspiring rock brilliance that made his band so legendary to the youths of their time and of today.
But it appears Pavement’s recent, all-too-brief reunion has sparked something great.
With Mirror Traffic, Malkmus’ fourth release with his backing band The Jicks (fifth if you count Face the Truth, technically his only true solo album), the singer finally manages to make an album worthy of his legacy and his status as a true elder statesman of indie rock supremacy. From the opening strains of “Tigers,” it’s clear that Malkmus has crafted his laid-back guitar riffs back into stirring pop form.
Every minute of Mirror Traffic feels like a flashback, like being transported to a time when cracking the seal on a Pavement record was a journey into the unknown. And yet, for all its throwback charm, it still feels vital, like the album the scene needs to shake away the doldrums and rock properly again.
The aforementioned “Tigers” is upbeat, focused, and confident. “No One Is (As I Are Be)” sees Malkmus donning his Lou Reed sunglasses and expounding coolly about bourgeois money-grabbers as casually as if he were talking about the weather. “Senator” is the most engaged Malkmus has sounded in years, jumping out of the gate with a blast of chemical concerns and sprinting into a hilariously explicit yet endlessly catchy chorus.
What makes Mirror Traffic so refreshing isn’t that Malkmus has done away with his jam-band meandering (still present on “Brain Gallop”) or his occasional treks of noise (still present on “Spazz” and “Jumblegloss”). What makes it so special is that these have been reigned in, leaving behind the perfect balance of Malkmus’s distinct identity and his abilities to craft great rock songs.
To what should this achievement be attributed? Certainly some credit must be owed to producer Beck, whose first-hand understanding of the 90s alt-rock sound Malkmus evokes, as well as his knowledge of what lies beyond that sound, allows him to hear the finest ways to mix a classic rock album into a modern stand-out.
But I don’t think an album as pristine and vibrant as Mirror Traffic would be possible had Malkmus not finally buried the hatchet and toured again with his old band. Because there is a great deal of Pavement present here, more than surely Malkmus would like to admit.
Maybe somewhere deep inside of himself, Malkmus is just as longing as the rest of us for days gone by. Maybe the man who created those records the young indie kids of today so covet is the man who most missed out on the phenomenon of what he made.
In a way, getting back together with Pavement seems to have opened Malkmus’ eyes in the same way that Pavement opened the eyes of a generation of garage rockers, by reminding him, and allowing him to remind the rest of us, that even lo-fi can sound classic, lasting, and meaningful.
Mirror Traffic is the best rock album of 2011 so far, one of the best regardless of genre. And it’s the best not because it makes us pine for days gone by but because it reminds us that the best days are right now. All it took was one faded rock star to learn the lesson and preach the only way he could: Through his music.