This Be The Verse

“Doctor’s leaving for the holiday season | got crystal ice picks, no gift for the gab

and in the parking lot is a sedan he bought | he never, he never complains when it’s hot”

Now that I look at the lyrics, seems to be a coincidence: currently typing away at a paper on Walter Freeman and ice pick lobotomies. But that’s besides the point. I started listening to Pavement about a month ago after hearing about this underrated yet heavily influential 90s alt rock band announcing tour dates for the summer. Pitchfork likes them. I don’t agree with half of the things that Pitchfork has to say, and such was my thought after I bought a couple of the band’s albums: underproduced and underwhelming. Maybe it was a case of Tom Waits Syndrome: hate it or you love it — but most people hate it. I had more or less given up, until I finally developed that acquired taste on Sunday… it’s now chilling with brussel sprouts and mushrooms somewhere in my head.

What did it was Quarantine the Past, not so much as a best hits, but rather a wave of songs that should get you into the right soundspace to appreciate the idiosyncrasies of Pavement. When “Grounded” — somewhere in the middle of the album — made its way to my headphones, my ears were already warmed up. My take on Pavement: Lou Reed meets early Radiohead… Lou Reed in its nonchalance, and Radiohead in its musical experimentation. Take a look at some of the guitar tunings if you get the time — very unconventional. But it works. Or Steve West on drums? If you put any drummer in the Pavement studio and said, “Okay, play along and we’ll record it,” this is exactly what you would get. But that’s all that it needs, nothing more. It’s Pavement, it’s druggy, sloppy, and definitely sounds better when you’re a couple drinks in. And that’s exactly where I am.

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