STEPHEN MALKMUS - Face The Truth

Don't worry, "Face The Truth" is not Stephen Malkmus's coming-of-age record. By now, the former leader of Pavement has even become a family man, but luckily he seems to have remained the same eternal adolescent as ever, indolent and mischievous, with a smile on his lips and a melancholy shadow in his eyes. The day someone like him decides to finally get his act together and set aside his old jester's antics, his music will surely end up losing forever that crooked charm that keeps making it so unmistakable…

It's true that, on his third album since the breakup of one of the most canonized bands of the Nineties, Malkmus doesn't repeat the small wonders of his solo debut. But it's equally undeniable that "Face The Truth" doesn't get lost in the dead-end labyrinths of the previous "Pig Lib" either: the new arrival in the Malkmus household manages to sound like the most original chapter of his second career, while at the same time coming closer than ever to the unforgettable Pavement gospel.

Sure, Malkmus is no longer the college kid who could go with his friends to the barber dressed as a gorilla, as seen in the old "Cut Your Hair" video, but his urge to play is still the same. Except this time his favorite toy no longer seems to be the six-string, but the synth and a variety of other electronic gadgets. Right from the album's opening, the dirty guitars and silly backing vocals of "Pencil Rot" get infected by a contagion of arcade-game keyboards. And any doubt about Malkmus's intentions is swept away by the Beck-ian disco extravagance of "Kindling For The Master", as exuberant as a Daft Punk raid into "Midnight Vultures" territory.

It's no coincidence that Malkmus's backing band, the Jicks, are given a far more marginal role on "Face The Truth" than in the past, to the point that their name only appears on the back of the sleeve: most of the new songs, Malkmus says, were born during solitary nights spent in his basement, tinkering with a sound that relies less on guitars than before, even though the use of devices like the notorious Pro Tools is strictly banned from the album.

But things really work only when Malkmus doesn't worry too much about forcing himself to invent something surprising, since the synthetic diversions of "Face The Truth" don't quite stir up all the amazement one might expect. It's rather the piano-and-guitar delicacy of "Freeze The Saints", with its nostalgic verses, that deserves a place among the best ballads ever written by the American slacker, alongside classics like "Range Life": "Seasons change / Nothing last for long / Except the earth and mountains / So learn to sing along and languish here".

In short, Malkmus isn't chasing the mirage of seasons long gone, but he doesn't disown his illustrious past either. So, alongside a "Post-Paint Boy" that revives the glories of the Nineties, there's also room for the tart flavor of an "It Kills" that seems to come straight from the last autumn of "Terror Twilight", while "Loud Cloud Crowd" and "Mama" caress the melodic obliqueness dearest to longtime fans.

To fully enjoy "Face The Truth", though, it's best to steer clear of the exhausting "Pig Lib"-style guitar workout of "No More Shoes", which after eight minutes of Sonic Youth mannerism proves decidedly hard to digest, so much so that Malkmus himself is forced to cry out "I want my Alka-Seltzer!"... Better, then, to have some carefree fun with the raucous rock of "Baby C'mon", so easygoing it becomes irresistible, or with the tango stride of "I've Hardly Been", with its usual trimmings of falsettos and electric outbursts. In the end, it's the restless farewell of "Malediction" ("The road to rejection is better than no road at all") that soothes things over, as Malkmus dresses a bitter ballad in Moog wails and theatrical strings.

Unfocused moments, as in Stephen Malkmus's previous solo works, aren't lacking here either, enough to immediately rule out any sacrilegious comparison with the joyful romps of the "Crooked Rain Crooked Rain" and "Wowee Zowee" days. Yet, given a few extra listens, the American indie-rocker's new album reveals facets far more compelling than the drab "Pig Lib". While we wait for the day when Malkmus (should he feel like it...) finally decides to give us his masterpiece.

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30/04/2026