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The backwoods can do strange things to a man. I came to that conclusion many years ago whan I once saw a more surreal than lame pay-per-view show (yeah, big mistake on my part!) featuring big-chested strippers and the celebrity judge being none other than Grizzly Adams (or the actor who played him that is, big-ass beard and all), in what can only be called a seedy joint with beer on the floor, cheap red lighting and a crowd of hooting middle-aged men. He was very drunk (or coked-up for all I care) and as soon as The Best Chest In The West got elected (I clearly remember her being a tall woman in her late 30's wearing cheap pink lingerie with a face like a prune and a downright scary set of all-natural juggs) he got up on stage and started to dance wildly in a lurid fashion, making passes at the women who in turn danced back, probably because if they ignored or rejected him he'd turn all Grizzly-like violent on them. This sleazy, pathetic picture of the decline of one of the foremost pop-cultural icons of the late 70's is the wrong way to go backwoods and yes, it is the contrast I want to set to indie-royalty Stephen Malkmus' playful, brilliant solo-debut, because after all he did move to a remote area in Oregon (so I have an excuse to tell that dirty story;-) and it shows. Even less New York than what turned out to be Pavement's last hurrah, 'Terror Twilight', this record represents freaky cabin fever done the right way. Think Seventies AM Rock (spruced up with ProTools for good measure), a big old jalopy on the side of the interstate, a copy of 'On The Road' on the passenger's seat. You with a bunch of your friends laying down on an American meadow with the glaring sun and endless blue skies above, laughing out loud and wondering whether you've all landed in a Tommy commercial or not. Joints like 'Jennifer And The Ess-dog', 'The Hook' and 'Troubbble' will make even the most dreary spirits rejoice, as will the closer 'Deado' and the beautiful waltzy 'Church On White'. There's more space for Stephen's guitar, and yes, let it be written in stone that he remains the indie-god of the subtle sixstring. As the bunch of you drive back on your jalopy to the BBQ, you see Grizzly Adams and a stripper laying face-down on the side of the road. Of course they're welcome to ride along for some ribs! Summer is coming but the soundtrack is already here. Kinda think of it, if this album were a perfume it'd be called Pavement Homme Plus and I'd get hayfever from it. Yeah!
http://www.kindamuzik.net/recensie/stephen-malkmus/stephen-malkmus/225/
Meer Stephen Malkmus op KindaMuzik: http://www.kindamuzik.net/artiest/stephen-malkmus
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