Inspired by the Anniversary feature on Stereogum, I’ve decided to cover Pavement’s last album Terror Twilight. It gets the rep for being the one that sounds the least ‘Pavementy’. Stephen Malkmus referred to it as the album ‘no one cares about that much‘. Well, I care. It’s my favourite of theirs. I want to write about it. I do this with the aim of making you listen to it after reading. Hear it for yourself. If you comment, let loose.

I was only four years old when Pavement released what turned out to be their fifth and final album Terror Twilight on 8th June 1999. I had been existing for a short amount of time. I would have been in my final month of nursery or so. The arrival of the new millennium would have had no real significance to me. Why would I have to worry about the arrival of the 21st century when I had to worry about my older sister coming downstairs to stop me from watching Thomas the Tank Engine? Times were rough in those days. I didn’t have much going on, obviously.

In comparison, Stephen Malkmus and Scott “Spiral Stairs” Kannberg since 1989 had been performing together for ten years. Pavement as the five-piece many will recognise, including bassist Mark Ibold, drummer Steve West and auxiliary percussionist/hype man Bob Nastanovich, had been performing for six of them. Before the final album that specific configuration of the band created three albums – two indie rock classics in 1994’s Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, Wowee Zowee in ’95, and the turning-thirty album Brighten the Corners in 1997 – which had gained them a large following of fans and praise from critics all across the board. The latter saw them return to a concise collection of twelve tracks after the zany, experimental approach to Zowee. I can only assume what Pavement fans must have been thinking in the years waiting for the next album…. “Where would they go from there?”, “How would they go about it?”….. “Would Malkmus and the rest even be bothered to do another one?”

Things didn’t get off to a great start. Initial sessions for the album began in Portland, Oregon in the summer of ’98. Stephen Malkmus became increasingly frustrated and tired of teaching his bandmates how to play the new songs he had written in preparation. Years of doing this repeatedly for previous albums as well as touring had taken its toll. Kannberg brought in songs to possibly be worked on, including unreleased gem ‘For Sale! The Preston School of Industry‘. Barely any attention was paid to them. Time meant for band practice gave way to procrastination through games of Scrabble. The decision was made to hire a producer to give the band a push in the right direction. Nigel Godrich received the call by Spiral Stairs to fill the position. With him the band relocated to New York to really get things going.

Before doing so, Malkmus performed two solo gigs in August ’98 in the Longbeach Museum of Art. With a prerecorded backing track, he previewed future album cuts ‘Spit on a Stranger’, ‘Ann Don’t Cry’, ‘Carrot Rope’ and ‘You are a Light’; you can make out a bit of the guitar riff from ‘Platform Blues’ too. It’s clear that the lyrics are still in the process of being worked on; the songs are still in an embryonic stage musically too. It’s interesting to hear them in that state. Though clearly they needed some development.

Back to New York. Godrich, a now recognisable name with OK Computer, Mutations, and Up in his resumé, wasn’t ready for Pavement’s casual approach to recording nor the surroundings it all took place in, his recollection is noted in Rob Jovanovic’s Pavement biography Perfect Sound Forever: “It was just a little too difficult. The control room didn’t give me enough scope to have any control over things. And they couldn’t play the fucking songs.” Nevertheless the sessions carried on. Doubts and tension within the band simmered. A travel to London occurred in the winter time to put more touches onto the songs. Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood showed up to add some harmonica in ‘Platform Blues’ and ‘Billie’. High Llamas percussionist Dominic Murcott provided drums for ‘Major Leagues’ and ‘Carrot Rope’ in the absence of Steve West; he and Nastanovich didn’t join the other three on the London trip. Mixing and mastering occurred throughout the first few months of 1999. Nearing a year after its initial conception with a lot of money spent and movement between various studios, the album was complete.

Upon its release Terror Twilight was another critical success for the band. Pitchfork rated it a 9.2/10 in a review you can’t find on its site today. Robert Christgau gave it an A+. Rolling Stone gave it four stars. All seemed good. Fan response on the other hand, taken from a small selection of contemporaneous Google Group forums, ranged from “It’s the best thing they’ve ever done” to “Yeah, it’s cool” to “The band is over“. Its tight execution and silky production hinted at a possible route the group may have taken had they continued into the 2000s. It wasn’t to be. Months after the album’s release, the band quietly broke up.

The album’s sound and mellow style is set straight away with first track and first single ‘Spit on a Stranger’. ‘Stranger’ captures a feeling of content and confidence one can having after making out with someone. A split-second freak out on the drums suddenly gives way to a cute descending keyboard melody, arpeggiated guitar chords and Ibold’s sliding bassline. A few measures on and Malkmus’ airy vocals enter the frame. They’re a constant throughout the album. Whereas previous Malkmus album openers were written and delivered with a hint of sarcasm/tongue-in-cheek manner, ‘Stranger’ glides past with a quiet assurance in its own charming way. It’s a worthy track to start off any album, though probably for some didn’t leave the sense of anticipation and excitement you would find in ‘Stereo‘ or ‘Summer Babe (Winter Version)‘.

It goes without saying that Terror Twilight is Pavement’s cleanest-sounding record. Having that rough-around-the-edges manner in their music was something that the band had become to be known for. Though with Godrich’s fingertips at the mixing board the album contains the majority of Pavement’s smoothest material. Tracks like ‘Folk Jam’, ‘Major Leagues’, and ‘Ann Don’t Cry’ float on with a deep warmth and irresistible gloss, aided by the addition atmospheric flourishes and an emphasis on the music’s deeper tones.

The album also contains Pavement’s poppiest tracks with the aforementioned ‘Spit on a Stranger’ and the album closer ‘Carrot Rope’. A bouncy number with layered guitars, bubbly keyboards, cryptic lyrics and an undeniably catchy chorus, the song features Malkmus, Kannberg and Ibold on partial lead vocals, something that had never been done before on any Pavement song, and closes out the band’s discography with a farewell wave and some mystery. What is Malkmus talking about in this track? I don’t really know, but I enjoy listening to it. Its music video is the last one in which all five band members are together. It’s a heartwarming sight to see them dancing with reckless abandon in blaring yellow raincoats.

So how does Malkmus fare on the record as a whole? Nastanovich made a comment in Perfect Sound Forever – that’s a good book by the way, any Pavement fan should seek it out – on how the album was more a ‘singer-songwriter solo project’. Very true, he does write every song on there. Does he do a good job? Very much so. Lyrically, he’s on point as he is on any other Pavement album. I would argue that Twilight contains some of Malkmus’ most surrealistic lyrics than what came before. They’re descriptive, imaginative, very fun to listen to and roll right of the tongue when singing along to them. ‘Folk Jam’ – a title based on the track’s folk-influence and its lyrical content about parental ancestry – possesses one liners that are enough to bring about a sharp exhale from the nose. “Watch out for the gypsy children in electric dresses, they’re insane/I hear they live in crematoriums and smoke your remains” is a stand out from ‘You Are a Light’. The lines concerning black widows and gaunt street hawkers from ‘Billie’ and ‘Cream of Gold’ respectively are pretty sweet too. I could go on for a while. Within the album come lyrics that lie opposite to the nonsensical yet observational style he utilised on earlier projects.

One thing that isn’t hard to notice when listening to Twilight is how unenthusiastic Malkmus sounds. I feel that’s something that started on Brighten the Corners, but it’s here that you can really sense it. Initially I thought that Malkmus’ delivery was that way solely to match the album’s laidback vibe. Though taking into account that he was possibly thinking of ending the band added another layer to it all. Lines like “The damage has been done/I am not having fun anymore” and “Never build a building ’til you’re 50/What kind of life is that?” now had an emotional depth (for lack of a better phrase) to them. He only really shouts or raises his voice above his relaxed baritone when the music around requires that shift. It’s by the numbers. You can’t help but feel that his heart may not be all that into it, and it’s a bit of a bummer when you realise.

And I think that’s another thing that gets to Pavement fans about this album. It lacks a lot of power and spontaneity that a lot of their older records had. The band weren’t so silly any more. There are rare moments that catch the listener unawares and hit a sweet spot. Take the time signature change in ‘Billie’ as its intense instrumental middle suddenly transitions into a waving waltz-time outro. ‘Speak, See, Remember’ becomes an entirely new composition from three minutes onward after a hanging guitar chord is met with a cathartic cymbal crash, as does ‘You Are a Light’ when it undergoes a complete melodic change halfway through. These instances occur so naturally within their respective songs; it’s when Pavement try to recreate their oddball demeanour of the past that the results don’t pay off as well and sound just a bit forced.

‘Platform Blues’ – a song one could offhandedly put as Pavement’s take on ‘Paranoid Android’ – is a bluesy off-the-wall piece with three distinct sections separated by slick instrumental breaks. Unlike the Radiohead track, the overall song structure doesn’t gel too well. In a podcast with Emil Amos, Malkmus makes reference to a track that “[the other four] barely played on and did not like” and he admits “was not as good as it should have been“. I believe it is this one. ‘The Hexx’ too, in the works since the sessions for Brighten the Corners, is one of Pavement’s boldest compositions and is the album’s centerpiece; while it is definitely a solid performance it suffers from a lack of intensity that the band could easily produce in their live performances to really draw the listener in.

The band embarked on a tour upon the album’s release. Relations in the band were strained further, particularly between Malkmus and the other members. Some time during then, a video for ‘Major Leagues’ was created in preparation for the release of an EP. The music video is Pavement’s last.

“We’re pretty much a 90s band. Proud to be 90s and we’re living up the last few months ‘La Vida Loca’ 90s style“, Malkmus dryly utters with the Californian sun beaming down on him and the rest of the band. Mark Ibold makes a joke out of the statement with a clapperboard gesture, though Malkmus knew what was up. 20th November 1999 was the date of the band’s final concert, held at London’s Brixton Academy. During the show, Malkmus has some handcuffs attached to the microphone and says to the crowd that they “symbolise what it’s like to be in a band“. Probably meant it to be a joke, but no one was laughing. The band were more or less done.

Terror Twilight is a fine album. Out of the five studio albums Pavement released, it is definitely the most comforting one to put on and chill out to.  Easy listening is guaranteed. It has got me through a hangover or four in the past. Its smooth textures and overall relaxed aura can provide the best listening experience. For many though, it’s the sound of a singer-songwriter who was looking for a way out and a band coming to its conclusion. Terror Twilight not only signifies the end of Pavement, but the 90s too in an indirect way. It was the comedown to a crazy time.