Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks
Real Emotional Trash

We fall in love too quickly. And, as we know, the fumes of love too easily intoxicate our defenseless synapses, resulting in a headlong rush towards the object of our desire that too many times has prevented us from being worthy lovers.

This is the case of Stephen Malkmus, the head of the lamented Pavement, who, after embodying a Bob Dylan of the golden years during the making of the soundtrack of "I'm Not There", was enchanted by the old school. A type B (Bastard) crush, where the lover and the erotic dream are separated by an endless road full of embarrassing moments and ridicule. The results of the unlikely amalgam birthed between the domineering guitar play that made the legendary Sixties and Seventies period unique and our Stephen's songwriting, are indeed the fruits of this impossible love.

It's noticeable right away from the opener "Dragonfly Pie", which begins with a harmlessly distorted riff and launches into a high-glycemic chorus. "Hopscotch Wille" also stems from a sweetened melodic core, which unfolds into weak chime-like, under-acid guitars but not in the right dose. This exaggerated taste for vintage reaches its peak in the ten minutes of the title track, a sort of poorly executed electric jam that ends in a danceable beat, and in the sterile "Baltimore", a bacchanal of living room psychedelia and harmless guitar solos. Only from the Jicks line-up, in any case, one could see how impractical these artistic solutions were. Two graceful damsels like the bouncing Janet Weiss, ex Sleater-Kinney, and Joanna Bolme, who produced some albums of the ever-remembered Elliott Smith, do not guarantee a great drive to Stephen Malkmus's guitar play, which, however, lacks the gift of being a great rocker. It seems, at times, bursting with hyperbole, as if listening to the unlucky copy of Television or the pop version of Hawkwind for babies.

Luckily there's the past which, like an old ex still in love, helps our Stephen and saves what's salvageable. Some Pavement melodies, scraped off the ancient lo-fi, and the game is done: "Cold Son", which seems to be borrowed from Belle & Sebastian, and "Out of Reaches" and "Gardenia", lively lullabies that could be the highlight of any Californian coastal band, as anonymous as they are, are nonetheless pleasant demonstrations of a certain melodic taste. 

"Real Emotional Trash" (his fourth solo effort) is the album that demonstrates how our Stephen doesn’t know how to do that tough and sweaty rock'n'roll that makes us feel virile. A lack of ideas (the closing "Elmo Delmo", "We Can't Help You", and "Wicked Wanda" proceed on inertia) which is embarrassingly inflated by a running time that, with its 55 minutes, doesn't favor the Jicks at all. On his side, Stephen Malkmus still has his extraordinary (and even visionary) melodic sensitivity that, as demonstrated here, still flows through his veins. As if to say: Stefà, don’t overdo it!