As you’ll read in his excellent afterword to this new magazine, Pavement’s Bob Nastanovich has an extremely solid take on the fortunes of the band in which he has played percussion for the last 30 years.
Things, he notes, have changed. Where once Pavement were part of a US guitar music underground – all 7” singles in limited numbers, fanzine interviews, a shared headline with Polvo – that scene has changed. Whereas this music had the quality of a secret handshake, now Bob notes, it’s become a family affair – as mums and dads have helped their now teenage children see the crooked Pavement light.
Then of course, there’s “Harness Your Hopes”. It’s true, not all of us would pick it over “My First Mine” in a battle of Pavement deep cuts, but this algorithmic quirk and its many TikTok transformations has also helped turned the band from a historic, 1000-pressing limited edition concern into thriving and much-expanded contemporary cultural phenomenon.
Most recently that has manifested itself in the most Pavement reunion tour (leading merch item: “Dad hat”, £23 (sold out)), which began in 2022 and has a date next week at the Hipnosis festival in Mexico. Featuring a full embrace of the band’s catalogue, a date with Pavement might involve a full complement of complex and melancholic works or a jubilant and upbeat set of earworm guitar pop. You join us right now on the release of a new greatest hits album, and the soundtrack to a new kind of meta-documentary, Pavements.
In these pages also, you’ll be able to experience all kinds of Pavement. There are in-depth reviews of every Pavement album, from the instantly charming and characterful debut Slanted And Enhanted to the wry complexity of their last, 1999’s Terror Twilight. We cover every Stephen Malkmus jam and solo records by Spiral Stairs, Marble Valley and Gary Young. You’ll also find thoughtful coverage on Pavement’s fellow traveller and guidance counsellor David Berman. There are classic archive interviews from gigs, pubs, and bookmaking establishments.
That’s the glorious past. But what does all this activity mean for Pavement in the future? Speaking as he patrols round his home, seemingly on a post-tennis match buzz, Stephen Malkmus thinks it’s a small concern in the cosmic scheme of things. A new album?
“What do you think?” he asks, throwing the question back, in a manner which suggests he’s genuinely curious to find out. It seems unlikely – but if Pavement have shown us anything lately, it’s that nothing is beyond the bounds of possibility.
