Let’s get this straight off the bat: not every band’s output was designed to get the juices flowing with a significant other. True, while the majority of most Al Green and Bee Gees tunes most certainly qualify, Captain Beefheart’s discordant stylings don’t exactly shoehorn comfortably into a sultry Saturday night.
It may seem strange to turn to Pavement, the seminal American 1990s band that embodied the “slacker” ethos, for a libidinous soundtrack, but there is more to the band than lead singer Steven Malkmus’ glib non-sequiturs.
Truly, if you were to sift through their career of intelligent snark, you’d be surprised to find more than a handful of tracks perfect for the backseat of your Honda Accord—or whatever.
5 fantastic Pavement songs to make out to
Slanted and Enchanted
"Perfume V"
Pavement’s 1992 debut album is a sparse phenomenon and the farthest cry possible from their latter and more produced output, although some camps consider it their masterpiece. The three-piece band (two guitarists, one drummer) from Stockton, California, obviously had something that Matador Records noticed, which set the wheels in motion for a full release that was chock-full of hooks, fuzz, and cryptic lyrics.
Naturally, the single was the catchy and repetitive “Summer Babe," but in terms of what evokes passionate impulses, the prize goes to the deep cut “Perfume V." Lyrically, it’s an ode to an anonymous “she” who has the clandestine “radioactive” and makes Malkmus “feel OK." The aforementioned “she” also “shivered like a vein slashed bright and new."
Passionate, raw, and desperate, this is as close to a love song as you’ll get from this cornerstone of underachievement. Musically, it smacks of My Bloody Valentine’s early days: a sensual wall of noise that hopefully gets the job done in its ephemeral 2 minutes and 10 seconds.
Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain
"Heaven Is a Truck"
After ousting party-boy/drummer Gary Young, Pavement carved out their trademark sound and solidified their quintet lineup with 1994’s excellent Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain; a much more full-bodied album that runs strong from start to finish.
As the founding members were originally from California, it granted the band the right to squeeze the state under their uniquely microscopic eye, but also gave them impetus to broaden their horizons of sounds and messages.
Throughout Crooked Rain, Pavement manages to shrug off industry execs (“Cut Your Hair”), insult contemporaries The Smashing Pumpkins and Stone Temple Pilots (“Range Life”), and even dabble in moments of abstract beauty, like “Heaven Is A Truck”.
The innocent tickle of piano keys gives way to melancholic chords over a slow-chugging beat, while Malkmus expresses his need for release. It’s a vulnerable, sweet half that sets the scene for the song’s sexy chorus chant about Pasadena Casa’s queen, before noodling their way off stage and letting you do your thing.
Runner-up: "5-4 = Unity"
A consolation prize goes to the album’s instrumental, “5-4=Unity." This playful impromptu number answers the burning question, “What happens when Dave Brubeck meets Link Wray?” It's perfect for partners who dig jazz.
Wowee Zowee
"Grounded"
If you enjoyed the smug hipster vibe and collected cool of Crooked Rain, then the left-turn spontaneity and wackiness of 1995’s Wowee Zowee may seem jarring at first listen. Perhaps this could be attributed to Malkmus’ self-proclaimed THC inspiration during the writing process, or the fact that the entire album is a tribute to their former hippie drummer Gary Young (his favorite catch-phrase was “Wowee Zowee!”).
Whatever the root cause, this mixed bag of tricks has been hailed as the black sheep of the discography, which ain't no bad thing. In fact, to this writer, it contains some of the most exciting tunes of their oeuvre.
Indeed, with this newfound freedom of expression came a bundle of extended experiments ripe for a night with a loved one. The alluring drone of “Grounded” is a prime example. Riding on a single guitar note, bass, and percussion leads you down a trail to a gulch where a slinky, sexy riff collapses upon itself.
Shrouded and incomprehensible lyrics are the dressing to the band itself, asking you to trust them that they’ll guide you home after about four minutes. Amid Wowee’s shambles, this sincere track gets the blood flowing in the best of ways.
Runner-up: "Rattled by the Rush"
As a runner-up, “Rattled By The Rush," the second song after the feeble album opener “We Dance,” has an off-kilter swagger, best manifested in Malkmus’ staccato chords that melt into deliciously sloppy solos. It is recommended for hot, sweaty, and equally sloppy evenings.
Brighten the Corners
"Type Slowly"
The year 1997 was quite a time for releases, like Radiohead’s OK Computer, Blur’s self-titled album (which was supposedly directly influenced by Pavement) featuring their juggernaut single “Song 2," Daft Punk’s Homework, and even Wu-Tang Forever.
Meanwhile, at Matador, Yo La Tengo’s wonderfully eclectic I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One is a hit, and Shibuya-kei modsters Pizzicato Five release their debut album. With so much going on, you’d be forgiven for missing Pavement’s fourth—and arguably most accessible—album, Brighten The Corners.
It’s Malkmus at his cheekiest, with memorable lines such as “show me a word that rhymes with Pavement and I won’t kill your parents”. Indeed, the wordplay used in each track alone could warrant a lyrical study, i.e., “Shady Lane” (“You've been chosen as an extra in the movie adaptation of the sequel to your life”) and (“Focus on the quasar in the mist, the Kaiser has a cyst).
The production is crisp, the band is tight, and the beats are as languid as a river in summer; fertile soil for taking things nice and slow, especially with “Type Slowly."
One of the longest tracks on the album (5:20), the song is a surreal lullaby that’s equal parts sweet and spicy. The first half allows Malkmus plenty of room to modulate his specific range and lovingly deliver lines like “one of us is a lovely blue incandescent guillotine."
This faux amiableness is simply a buildup to a restrained angst that boils over in a Grateful-Dead worthy jam, which, if you’ve played your cards right, should also mirror the unbridled passion happening elsewhere.
Runner-up: "Old to Begin"
“Old to Begin," another groovy lesson in pleasant restraint vs. the inevitable clash of the wave against the rock, in this case personified by a slapdash solo preceding an unhinged Malkmus wailing into the coda. For maximum effect, “Old to Begin” pairs well with “Type Slowly," giving you almost nine minutes to get to first base.
Terror Twilight
"You Are a Light"
Pavement’s final album was a transatlantic affair, ranging from the West Coast to the East Coast, and finally recorded in London by the legendary producer Nigel Godrich (of Radiohead, Beck, REM, and U2 fame), before dropping in 1999.
With its polished sound and radio-friendly glisten, Terror Twilight is a seemingly peppy romp and an ideal entry point to dip your toes into, but at this point, due to irreparable fissures in the band, it may as well be a proto-Steven Malkmus solo project. That being said, this is no bummer of a swan song.
To be sure, “Spit on a Stranger” is the opening track and one of the most recognizable Pavement tunes, even prompting acoustic covers by bluegrass wunderkinds Nickel Creek and singer-songwriter Kathryn Williams. While its innocent sheen may be enticing to a willing make-out partner, “You Are a Light” is not only one of the best tunes on the album, but is practically two songs in one.
The former is a walking riff stuffed with abstract lyrics and a tossed-off solo, and the latter is a barely constrained fling with psychedelic madness and discordant sounds. If you’re lucky, that special someone can groove to both halves.
Runner-up: "Speak, See, Remember"
If it’s a funky almost jazzy number that sets the mood, “Speak, See, Remember” is the right choice, with its predominantly acoustic base, wha-pedal noodling, ramshackle percussion, and, as a final treat, electric riff that bites like bared fangs with the hope of making the blood pump.
Subjectivity is an inherent element in a “make-out mix," so these selected songs from Pavement's catalog are merely a suggestion, not gospel. Moreover, suppose these selected serenades don’t seem to be doing the trick. In that case, it’s best to scrap the entire thing, pivot to some guaranteed aphrodisiacs like Marvin Gaye or Sade ASAP, and try to salvage the occasion.