In his novel \Love in the Time of Cholera,"" Gabriel Garcia Marquez writes of a man, Florentino Ariza, who has been in love with a married woman for more than 50 years. During that time he has had hundreds of liaisons, but in his heart he remains true to his love and waits patiently until he can be with her. In a way I can relate to poor Florentino Ariza, at least with regards to music. Although my heart remains faithful to Stephen Malkmus, my ears have strayed during the long wait until the release of his new album, Pig Lib. Even with its March release date in sight, I was unable to resist the temptations offered by other recent releases.
The new Shipping News album, Three-Four, is probably the best of the batch--my Malkmus-free guilty pleasure of choice. Their guitarist, Jeff Mueller, was a member of the seminal math-rock band June of 44, and he still provides plenty of his trademark angular guitar, albeit without the intensity that characterizes the genre's greatest achievements. To be sure, Three-Four is mellow fare, sporting songs that culminate with laid-back guitar noodling or waves of viola instead of blasts of feedback, but the album rarely lulls, and offers the strong compositions that we've come to expect from this group of talented musicians.
On the other hand, we have Joan of Arc, a downright terrible band for whom expectations cannot be set any lower. For their latest album, however, they decided to abandon the laptop experimentations that have plagued their prior work and instead opted to record live to analog in studio. The result, So Much Staying Alive and Loneliness, is their first set of realized songs, complemented by crisp, mildly jazzy arrangements. It's actually a good album, although it's not enough to elevate their ""downright-terrible-band"" status and certainly not enough to satiate my Stephen Malkmus craving, which only grows stronger as Pig Lib's release date approaches.
So imagine my delight upon receiving a package from Matador Records in the mail and having my head swell with hopes of it containing an advanced copy of Malkmus' unreleased opus. Alas, it was only a copy of Aereogramme's Sleep and Release. It's a bit of a disappointment, even though Aereogramme's press release demonstrates an outstanding understanding of logic. ""Stephen Malkmus says we fucking rock. John Peel says we fucking rock,"" guitarist Campbell McNeil explains. ""Therefore, we fucking rock."" Ever the indie-rock George Washington, Malkmus never lies. Aereogramme does indeed rock, often in a larger than life, Built To Spill sort of way. When they aren't rocking, however, they ill-advisedly explore tired Radiohead-esque soundscapes, complete with studio blips and sampled atmospherics.
For all of their merits, ultimately these albums have meant nothing to me. They were shallow listens used only to help pass the time until March, when Stephen Malkmus will bless the world with his anticipated masterpiece, filling our hearts with joy and bringing peace on earth.
