By Eleni P. Austin

It’s hard to believe that people are already waxing nostalgic for the ‘90s. Didn’t the 90s happen like yesterday? Feels like it, anyway. Holy crap! 20 years since the advent of Grunge and Riot Grrrl movements, “Seinfeld” and “The Larry Sanders Show.” But it was also the decade that brought us “The Real World,” (signaling the end of music programming on MTV), Hootie & The Blowfish, and “Beverly Hills, 90210.” The unfortunate hybrid of Rap/Rock, (Limp Biscuit), Ace OF Base and the “Macarena” dance craze. “Aiyyyyyyyyy.”

One great band that embodied the ‘90s was Pavement. Formed in Stockton, California in 1989, the band was immediately labeled “the next big thing.” Although they had a near-hit, “Cut My Hair,” from their second album, Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, they never achieved mainstream success. The band broke up after their fifth album Terror Twilight was released in 1999.

Luckily, lead guitarist and vocalist Stephen Malkmus has carried the Pavement torch into the new millennium. As Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks, he has released 5 albums that blend the cryptic-literate lyrics and angular guitar pyrotechnics that were the trademark style of Pavement.

Malkmus and the Jicks just released their sixth effort, Wig Out at Jigbags. The album opens with “Planetary Motion” already in progress. Brusque and deliberate guitar chords ebb and flow, inhabiting the grey area between Punk Rock and Prog Rock.

Despite the band’s cult-like status, three tracks here, “The Janitor Revealed,” “Lariat” and “Chartjunk” are as catchy as anything on mainstream, Top 40 radio.

Anchored by a stop-start rhythm, serpentine guitar riffs and drawling organ fills, “The Janitor Revealed” offers a restless quest for success. …. “As the glory years shuffle on by will the inevitable ever arrive? You’re slow and steady but you won’t win the race/ Pardon me while I jump the queue, I got much better things to do.”

“Lariat” is a low-key charmer. Accented by skitter guitar and a propulsive backbeat, the lyrics limn the pleasures of halcyon summers gone by… “We lived on Tennyson and venison and the Grateful Dead, it was a Mudhoney summer.”

With intricate guitar chords, a punchy horn section and a 70s Conga groove, “Chartjunk” shares musical DNA with Steely Dan’s epochal “Reeling In Years.” The jaunty melody belies Malkmus’ caustic tone… “I don’t need your windbag wisdom and all the restrictions/In one ear and out the other, if you feel the urge to share/ Think again, ‘cause you’re not my mother, contractually I’m not obligated to care.”

Malkmus relives his Punk Rock salad days on both “Rumble At The Rainbow” and “Houston Hades.” The former opens with an Oi-tastic spoken snippet from obscure British punk band Erazerhead. The lyrics paint a vivid picture of AARP punk rockers, (Jello Biafra, perhaps), trying to maintain their rebellious cred as they trot out the same old songs… “Come and join us in our Punk Rock tomb, come slam dancing with some ancient dudes/ We are returning, returning to our roots, no new material just cowboy boots whoa-oh!” Toward the end, the melody wigs out with a Reggae breakdown and Punk Rock freakout. In a word, it’s perfect.

The latter opens with pummeling drums and scabrous guitar riffs. Malkmus pretends to pay homage to the rustic pleasures found in Houston, but really he’s just taking the piss.

By the end of the album, three songs, “Independence Street,” “Scattegories” and “Cinnamon And Lesbians” come together like a suite. The tracks amplify Malkmus’ disparate strengths. It’s a weird confluence of Jam-Band dexterity, pugnacious attitude and lyrical nonsequiturs.

“Independence Street” coasts on strummy guitar licks that echo Jerry Garcia’s mellifluous tones. The lyrics are a Seussian grab bag that bemoans “living in yurts” and “sucking on Certs.”

Crusty guitar chords, ominous bass lines and a loping rhythm propel “Scattegories.” The lyrics offer a surfeit of quirky rhymes…”Pictionary mix and carry, Condoleeza’s rice scattered on the floor/Mott The Hoople’s got no scruples with those groupie janes, mascara and rye.”

Finally, “Cinnamon And Lesbians” is tour de force. Allman-esque intertwined guitars collide with an eccentric Captain Beefheart melody. Malkmus confides, “I’ve been tripping my face off since breakfast.” Uh, no shit.

Other standout tracks include the buttery Bacharach Bossa Nova, “J Smoov,” and the zig zag wanderings of “Shibboleth.”

The album closes with the swirly intersteller overdrive of “Surreal Teenagers.” A kinetic, off-kilter end to a wildly whimsical ride.

Although Stephen Malkmus is the band’s laconic visionary, the Jicks keep him grounded in musical reality. Drummer Jake Morris, bassist Joanna Bolme and Mike Clark on keys and guitar absolutely stretch the boundries but never overreach.

“Wig Out at Jigbags” comfortably fits into any record collection that includes Pink Floyd’s A Saucerful Of Secrets, Camper Van Beethoven’s Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart and Phish’s Farmhouse.

Stephen Malkmus has made a seemless transition from ‘90s cult figure to millennial cult figure, hopefully picking up a few new fans in the process. Can the same be said of Ace Of Base?

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