The longest day of the year is upon us, and with it comes thousands of years of humanity observing it in their own unique way. Of all the civilizations who’ve marked the occasion of the summer solstice it can be said the Pagan celebrations were undoubtedly the best, mostly because the stunning goth barista at this coffee shop would probably think the same. So let’s dig into some solstice history and pray to Gaia this raven haired stunner is free after her shift.
To put it in layman’s terms the solstice today is like a big summer kickoff, but back when humanity was mostly agrarian this was the start of the harvest season. You could liken it to being the Pagan version of Christmas, though not to be confused with December 25th which the Christians stole from Pagans. Chances are she brings that up to her uptight dad every holiday season.
Apparently the solstice coincided with the water of the Nile River rising, so then the ancient Egyptians would be able to predict flooding. This is key to our opening salvo, because she’s rocking the Cleopatra/Souixsie Sioux cat eyeliner with ankh necklace combo, so there’s a good chance she’s into ancient history.
Of course, it would be irresponsible to talk about the solstice and not bring up the Druids, the original goths. They left behind no “official” written records, but they’re given unofficial credit with constructing Stonehenge, it’s purpose to allegedly align with the sun during solstice. It’s probably a safe bet she’d be impressed with these pictures of StoneHenge from that backpacking trip eight years ago. Just gotta find a way to crop mom and dad out of them first.
Druids were also quite pro “throw shit into a bonfire and hope for a good crop output”, so it looks like the newly installed fire pit in the backyard is about to pay for itself. They also set bonfires to ward off evil spirits, i.e. her shift manager who looks like a total normie. Would she be down for burning an effigy of his likeness a la The Wicker Man?
Okay, time to order. Here’s hoping she’s a history buff and is willing to overlook our tenuous knowledge of Nick Cave’s discography and – ah crap, she just went on break! Looks like we’re observing the solstice by watching Midsommar again.
After “Wowee Zowee” perfectly encapsulated everything that made Pavement’s first two albums so great, there had to be a turd in the cereal bowl, and that turd was “Brighten The Corners.” For all intents and purposes, this is essentially the first Stephen Malkmus solo album, (though not the worst…and that’s saying something). This is also where the ideas dried up and things began to feel phoned-in. Plagued with songs so lethargic and uninteresting, even their titles are boring… “Type Slowly?” “Old To Begin?” Yawn! And even if you do dream of owning a Volkswagen Passat and going to IKEA, for god’s sake, don’t write a song about it!
Unless you were already cooler than everyone else and collecting the early, pre-“Slanted & Enchanted” singles and EPs, you likely didn’t hear these tracks until this compilation came out post-“Slanted,” which serves as sort of a “Slanted” origin story. A handful of songs (“My First Mine,” “Mercy: The Laundromat,” and the enduring fan favorite “Debris Slide”) would fit the “Slanted” vibe. However, most of the rest is on the noisier and weirder side, with mixed results. “Maybe Maybe” and “Price Yeah!” are certainly influenced by their respected peers Royal Trux, while songs like “Forklift” surely gave bands like Trumans Water a template to keep on keepin’ it weird.
Recorded a year or so after “Slanted & Enchanted” and featuring the touring band for that album, this EP essentially serves as an addendum to that album that neither bests nor worsts anything on it. Just, you know, more of the same. The only exception is “Shoot The Singer (1 Sick Verse),” which alludes to the more produced sound the band would grow into on “Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain.”
After the snooze-fest of “Brighten The Corners,” things couldn’t really get any worse, and on Pavement’s swan song, they actually get a little better, if still sounding like more Malkmus solo fare. The songs are better and more varied. “The Hexx” is spooky and jammy, while “Carrot Rope” is goofy and fun, with everything else being somewhere in between. Had they listened to producer Nigel Godrich’s suggested song sequence, this would have been a bit stronger of a record. And why they relegated “Harness Your Hopes,” which became a hit over 20 years later, and one of their greatest songs, to a B-side, is anyone’s guess, but it was a bad decision.
It’s hard to avoid the sophomore slump. But, if you recruit a hipster bass player and especially a drummer who knows what kind of music you want to play, you trade in your Fall records for some Neil Young and Grateful Dead LPs, and let the singer take the lead, it can be done. For an album recorded in NYC, this sure does sound like California. Warm and fuzzy, but still weird and obtuse when necessary (and don’t forget the amazing Smashing Pumpkins diss!). Great for road trips. By not trying to replicate “Slanted & Enchanted,” they avoided being pigeon-holed, and elevated that album to even higher status. Smart move, dudes.
After early tracks like “Debris Slide” or “From Now On,” it wouldn’t have been impossible to predict what might be next. Regardless, “Slanted & Enchanted” seemed to come out of nowhere as a perfect monolith of indie rock. While it would be lazy to describe Pavement at this stage in their development as a cross between Hex Enduction-era Fall and mid-’80s Sonic Youth, sometimes the Ockham’s Razor approach to lazy comparisons gets the job done. Like Guided By Voices’ “Bee Thousand,” Slanted keeps a perfect balance between the songs teetering on the edge of falling apart and staying together long enough to worm their way into your brain forever.
This record could be described as Slanted and Crooked, but thank god they chose a better name. This is the last great Pavement album, and really, the last album as Pavement the band, as opposed to Pavement the songwriting project of Stephen Malkmus. What makes “Wowee Zowee” the best Pavement album is that it has a little of everything in the Pavement arsenal, and even songs that hint at their later albums. It’s like a best-of, but with new songs. The only downside is that these songs fill up THREE SIDES OF VINYL, LEAVING THE FOURTH SIDE BLANK! What am I supposed to do with a blank side of vinyl?! For all the great outtakes and B-sides from this period at their disposal, this just does not compute. This coulda been their “White Album” for chrissakes!! Nonetheless, this should be the go-to Pavement album for fans and curious onlookers, alike.
Like Swimming is filled with some of Morphine’s hardest moments, and is easily the band’s angriest album thanks to tracks like “Eleven O’Clock” and “I Know You (Pt. III).” Hard and loud is great and welcome, but Morphine thrives in spooky grooves, which aren’t as present here. Some out-of-place synth moments pop up sporadically too, like in “Early To Bed,” that consistently sound like someone covertly mixed in keyboard parts performed by their kid.
Yes is an easy “Yes.” It’s got great songs back to front and rarely misses a step. You know an album is good when it has a track called “Super Sex.” A lesser musician would be given a swirly for trying to mix beat poetry into a song, but Sandman earns it on “Sharks.” Some lingering sameness to what Morphine had done before is there, but it doesn’t detract from an otherwise solid record.
Mark Sandman’s sudden, tragic death in 1999 would spell Morphine’s end. The Night’s sessions ended shortly before Sandman’s death and the album was released posthumously in 2000 Original drummer James Deupree, who had left the band due to health issues, returned for some guest drumming. Ethereal soundscapes and a wider range of instruments demonstrate a band in their prime. Still, Pitchfork gave The Night a 5.7, because it simply was not 5.8 material.
“Buena” is one of a few songs that can stop you dead cold to decipher how the fuck something can sound like that. Grunge meets jazz meets blues meets fuck you, Morphine’s songs are the audio equivalent of sweet talking your way out of a field sobriety test. The band’s most accessible record, Cure For Pain is a rolling thunder sweep of great songs.
Though a close race, Cure for Pain is ultimately a confirmation of Good’s success. Decisively crafted tracks that fully exploit Morphine’s stripped-down “low rock” grooves. Good is fucking ascendant, one of the few perfect first albums, but somehow never pretentious and always approachable. Morphine tracks are closer to seances than songs. Why the fuck is Mark Sandman dead but Kid Rock is still alive?