Shady Lane

"A shady lane/Everybody wants one"

"A shady lane/Everybody needs one"

All we ever want is a shady lane, right? No matter the complexities or difficulties in our lives, all we really want is an ideal home, independent of the world's troubles.

A shady lane is a metaphor for the ideal life. Imagine a perfect, tree-lined neighborhood with kids on bikes and dogs barking. The white picket fences separate the homes while neighbors mow their lawns or enjoy a glass of lemonade on their front porch. The street is possibly even named "Shady Lane".

Of course, this neighborhood is only ideal if we ignore the racist across the street, the Bible-thumping lady next door, and the child-molester on the corner. But it looks pleasant and serene, doesn't it?

While literally this may not be everyone's (or even SM's) ideal life, but it's the iconic, stereotypical one that is perpetuated in popular culture, especially here in the states. The point is that the metaphor of the perfectly peaceful existence is there for all of us. Whether it's Shady Lane, Missoula, or Williamsburg, we all have a place we would like to live that is free of the problems of the world.

"The worlds collide, but all that I want is a shady lane."

Trigger Cut/Wounded-Kite At :17

"Trigger Cut/Wounded-Kite At :17" begins with an ominous tone much like a scene in a horror film.

The process a filmmaker undergoes when piecing together a narrative is chronicled in this Pavement cut. With every scene and edit, the filmmaker considers the conflict (lies and betrayals), striking images (fruit-covered nails), and urgency (electricity and lust...). And in creating the film, truth and success are discovered.

The wounded kite scene (possible a play on Wounded Knee) is that piece about 28 seconds left in the track that seems to come from nowhere. I figure that the kite begins to tear and finally tumble to the ground around the 17th second.

Rattled by the Rush

We get shaken or rattled in so many situations. Do we like it? Do we dread it? Do we feed off of it? All of the above.

The rush of being questioned, performing physical feets, or being in awkward situations rattles our inner-souls. We lose ourselves for a moment. The excitement leaves us disoriented.

It's like how you used to wrestle with your dad or an older sibling. You could never win. Your dad was too big, too strong, but he was sure not to hurt you. Something about this fruitless, physical activity arouses you. You then find yourself a little out of it, almost dizzy.

"Rattled by the Rush" places the classic rock tendancies of their later material within the herky jerky, laisez-faire jamminess of mid-nineties Pavement. The song demonstrates quintisential Stephen Malkmus' vocal stylings. He slides easily from deadpan smartass to squealing troubadour and somewhere in between. Aside from SM's singing, it's also one of the most ambitious guitar performances that ranges from the aforementioned classic rockiness to a looser, sloppier.

The song is as Pavement-y as it gets.

The Hexx

A hex (with one x) can stand for a couple of things. The first is the idea of a curse or spell that is placed on an individual or family by a witch. This can explain the lyrics of Pavement's "The Hexx".

The song carries on the theme of Terror Twilight of an impending doom. As stated many times in this here blog, the last Pavement record served notice that the band's run had come to an end, but that's getting redundant.

Malkmus describes various situations in which his subjects suffer from hexes of their own. Capistrano swallows that are supposed to return to their San Juan home, suddenly can't. Epileptic surgeons and fooled football players prepare as their failures are close at hand. One of the greatest Malk-metaphors demonstrates this point further.

Architecture students are like virgins with an itch they cannot scratch,
Never build a building till you're 50; what kind of life is that?

The 70's atmospherics support the gloom and doom of a hexed life. Bluesy guitar solos and wailing in the background set the mood of the track. One can picture a movie scene in which the protagonist is stumbling through a crowded hallway, intoxicated on some mind-altering substance, and dazed by his own failures as this music plays, drowning out the chaos around.

The other meaning to hex comes from a hexadecimal or a base-16 numbering system. Coincidentally, the song arguably has sixteen lines: five verses of two-lines each and a six-line chorus. Again, it's probably just a coincidence.

You're Killing Me

Fuzz and spit is how the opening and background of "You're Killing Me" might be described, the first track on the first release of the Pavement discography, Slay Tracks (1933-1969). The highly experimental and lo-fi (read "cheap") production value helped catapult Pavement to indie darlings, and they never looked back.

The song's noisy hiss, lack of percussion, and simple, repetitive lyrics made the song a tribute to the band's punk ethos. While so much of Pavement's later work appealed to the listener's intellect, this song had a guttural feel lacking once the band signed with Matador. However, the same sentiment can be found in songs like "Conduit for Sale" or "Fight this Generation".

Interestingly, some of the lyrics were the moniker for one of the earliest Pavement fan-sites, The Sign on the Door.

Unseen Power of the Picket Fence

"There's some bands I'd like to name-check/And one of them is REM."

And so begins Pavement's contribution to the alterna-compilation benefiting AIDS research and education, No Alternative. This homage to REM, the Athens-based band that made college rock mainstream, pays tribute to the band's influence on Pavement. Like any dedicated fan, SM describes both what made REM important (left standing after Sherman rapes the South) and disappointing ("Time After Time" was my least favorite song...). SM offers a song-by-song audit of REM's best (and earliest) work while relating the band's cultural significance to a fallen and broken South.

Some reporters asked REM front man Michael Stipe what he thought of the Pavement track. He was insulted they didn't like "Time After Time" but he was honored to be name-checked by such up-and-coming indie band. According to indie rock lore, Stipe suggested that the band could play the song as if serenading him on an MTV special featuring the songs, bands and issues of the compilation. Pavement declined.

Spit on a Stranger

The spacey psychedelia of "Spit on a Stranger" opens up 1999's Terror Twilight, the final Pavement record, and listeners were bound to notice the change in the band's sound. The song's (and album's) first few seconds of drum beats almost start a different song altogether before warped guitar lines and a hippie-dippy bass line carry us to the first verse.

The song is a reflection on the band's long, tenuous relationship. This, in conjunction with the album's title referring to that eerie moment just as the sun sets, describes the strange feeling the one gets as the end approaches. You feel the end of the band as the record progresses.

The idea of "spit on a stranger" is an odd and cryptic one. (Of course, this is Pavement.) Just as the band's breakup (hell, their whole career) was awkward, spitting on a stranger can be just as strange. It's similar to accidentally grazing some one's rear or turning to make a comment to what you thought was your companion only to find a complete stranger standing there.