Pavement

Pavement has never been known for their live shows. Fans who saw them in their heyday labeled them sloppy, inconsistent, and aloof. Once Stephen Malkmus went solo his disdain for his audience seemed to grow; he tossed out insults and even occasionally answered his cell phone onstage. So when the deadpan frontman gave “fun” as the reason behind this year’s reunion tour, eyebrows may have raised. Pavement having fun playing live shows? I was skeptical. My brother’s report on their Kansas City show described more of the same: a detached, exhausted-looking band. I prepared myself accordingly.

Something must have happened between that Saturday in Kansas City and Friday night in Philadelphia. The Pavement I saw was, in a word, exuberant. This is the Pavement rarely seen outside of the videos for “Gold Soundz” and “Carrot Rope,” dancing and clowning in Santa suits and ponchos. They open with “Grounded” and “Cut Your Hair,” Malkmus smiling and bouncing onstage like a puppy. He’s freakishly well preserved compared to the rest of the band, portly older men edging into the shadows. “Sorry if you were out drinking and missed the first song,” he smirked, “we probably should’ve started with a Terror Twilight song.” Cue Bob Nastanovich mockingly singing the opening lyrics to “Billie” in a nod to that album’s awkward role in the band’s breakup. After a surprising detour into “Heckler Spray,” an instrumental track from Westing (By Musket and Sextant), they launched into “Frontwards” and the predictably awesome “Elevate Me Later,” which culminated in Spiral Stairs screaming bloody murder from underneath his newsboy cap.

Malkmus seemed giddy, chatting with consummate party animal Nastanovich and doing a sort of ironic “Locomotion”-style dance, jogging in place and pumping his fists in circular motions. He wasn’t the only excitable one: there were two grown men slam dancing and hugging in front of me, singing loudly along to every song. They enjoyed a bromantic double air guitar on “Frontwards.”

“Starlings in the Slipstream” brought the vibe down, transforming the Mann Center into some sort of dysfunctional slacker prom with Malkmus as king. He led us all in a waltz. It was actually pretty; I assume there were more bromantic dudes crying into their $8 Bud Lights all around me. “Box Elder” was a huge hit, followed by “Unfair,” which found Nastanovich playing to the crowd like a rapper and running all over the stage.

The latter part of the set was where everything really came together. From “Shady Lane” through “Spit on a Stranger,” including show highlight “In the Mouth a Desert,” they totally rocked out, all screaming voices and guitars: “I’ve been crowned / the king of it!” My friend yelled, “This really is the best show ever!” Hyperbole, maybe, but in the moment I agreed. “We Dance” was shaky simply because everyone’s too worked up to bring the energy down. The dudes in front of me were delighted and falling all over each other. The band left the stage after “Rattled by the Rush” and came back quickly for the encore.

I believe Malkmus had a smile on his face throughout the entirety of “Range Life,” and he was still doing that playful Locomotion thing. He couldn’t hit all the high notes—I don’t think he ever could—but he sailed easily through the chorus. The crowd sang loudly on the song’s peak: “Don’t worry, we’re in no hurry! / School’s out, what did you expect?”

“Date with Ikea” came next, revealing that Spiral Stairs is worse for wear. He can’t even think about those high notes, and the chorus comes out in a kind of strained staccato. Malkmus warmly introduced him though, and I’m really glad they don’t hate each other.

“Trigger Cut” produced more bonding, with Malkmus and Nastanovich sharing the mic like the Boss and little Stevie. “Stop Breathing” was a pleasant, meandering surprise, though some belligerent dudes behind me chose the lazy guitar breakdown as a soundtrack to their fistfight. It quickly fizzled: “We’re running out of time, so you guys don’t get to hear ‘Say It Ain’t So’ by Weezer…by us,” Malkmus deadpans. We were bummed, but not really.

The final encore began with “Gold Soundz,” naturally, and ended with “Here,” naturally. Malkmus’s voice was at its vulnerable best, uninterrupted by noise. It dawned on me how important his voice is to the band: it’s the best voice in indie rock, sliding from stage whisper to falsetto to that angry-cat scream. It’s an iconic voice, and it’s what we were left with after the glow, the scene, the stage, the set. Talk became slow, and I started to believe what Stephen Malkmus had said. On this night in Philly, fun was had after all.