There was a time in 2014 or 15 when I was playing this song in my iTunes library nearly every day. ‘Trojan Curfew’ by Stephen Malkmus, not credited alongside the Jicks officially, but they’re in the music too. Stephen Malkmus is my favourite of the guy’s work outside of Pavement, his first to be released, in 2001, after the band split up two years prior. Not ro say that there aren’t any quality gems that followed in the 17 years The Jicks went on to add to their catalogue. But as a package, a whole, the front-to-back, it’s his self-titled solo debut that’s done the business for me for more than a decade at this point. Reasons why, I’m sure I must have laid out in previous posts for songs from it. Why was ‘Trojan Curfew’ my favourite song for a period during those years? It’s not the most popular number on the album. I’m very sure when I was getting into it, a comment on a YouTube went along the lines of, “The ending was how the whole song should have went.”

But that’s doing the whole track a disservice. Every time those drums fall in and the rhythm gets going, I feel like I’m floating on air. The production’s just so damn dreamy. I could sink into the thickest beanbag listening to this song. It may be the feathery, delicate approach that some listeners may find as a reason to be nonplussed by it all, but I guess I’m just a sucker for those kinds of songs when they’re done right. And this one feels good. The track isn’t too difficult to explain. At least, I think so. In the first verse and chorus, Malkmus depicts a scene of Greek gods gathering underneath some Doric architecture, being merry and talking about whatever Greek gods would discuss in those days, with fields of green and nature bursting with life around them. And in a “look how far we’ve come” kind of commentary, the second verse and final choruses fast-forward to the “present day” of 2000/01 where the Doric architecture remains, but normal, you-and-me people are there instead, wasted on alcohol. There’s a little less green field, a bit more concrete in the area. So I guess it’s a bit of an environmental song, a bit of a poke at how insignificant we are as human beings in comparison to the supposed mythical figures that existed in the past. There are layers to this tune.

The briefest part of ‘Trojan…’ that I remember getting stuck in my head first off was the way Malkmus sings, ‘Field of green’. Just that little melody there. But it took a listen or two more to fully gauge the context the lyric was used in. Once it all came together, the music and the words, I was swept off my feet. Malkmus’s vocal take, so perfect. So laidback, it’s almost like he’s sighing. Sighing with a beautiful melody all the way through. The slide-guitar playing the song’s riff in the breaks, I guess, almost acts a chorus itself. Nothing like a slide guitar to create a swooping, soaring feel in a piece of music. There’s an organ that comes in during the second “We got smashed on Ios” verse that adds another flavour to the proceedings. And then of course, there’s the “bring it on home” rock ending that officially closes out the song after the fake-out that occurs a few moments before. So forget whatever that old YouTube comment said. I’m telling you, as a real person in the year 2026, the whole four minutes and six seconds ‘Trojan Curfew’ lasts for is worth the time.