Wednesday, 10 November 2010



This was a highly anticipated single.  When it arrived Pavement were now solidly established as favourites in indie rock minds with a penchant for American noise.

It begins with what sounds like a horse rearing or an elephant screaming ahead of the beast abating and bouncing on a bum note.  Pavement guitars always sound like none other.

Like an eager beaver I bought this on both seven inch and CD single.  My memory recollects that this was one of the last big releases to appear on the Mark Radcliffe and Marc Riley Radio One Graveyard Shift before their career spiked and briefly went into a weird oblivion.  The same could possibly have been said for Pavement at the time as soon Blur (and specifically Graham Coxon) discovered American lo-fi gave their profile a genuine mainstream push.  From here each time Pavement toured the UK they did bigger venues as people that you didn’t want liking Pavement suddenly liked Pavement.  They were on the stereo.  And for some reason my CD single version always faltered.  There was too much dust on the lens.

On this song the band sounds very confident and knowing.  Both musically and lyrically the unit has tapped into what it likes and the results are expert.  Magnificently the words are both matter of fact and memorable.  There is even room for a little conversational call and response.  It’s a song that will always supply a smile.

Moving on “Westie Can Drum” emerges prodding with almost rap vocals.  It runs a bit like “Coffee & TV” by Blur eventually becoming an extended wonky work out that ends in screaming.  “Winner Of The” in contrast offers an upbeat plod that sounds like conversation in its weird harmonies while remaining classic Pavement.

One of their best singles ever.

Thesaurus moment: oil.

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