Pavement / Brighten the Corners by John Golden Matador Records Generally speaking, people can be divided into three categories: romantics, cynics, and poets. Romantics are, of course, blindly and nauseatingly optimistic, stupid, and for the most part, a waste of carbon. Similarly, cynics are born assholes who lack the courage to remove themselves from this oh-so-trying world, and instead go around saying stupid shit like, um, so-and-so is a waste of carbon. Poets, on the other hand, combine the romantic's vision of human potential with the cynic's understanding of the status quo, and in the confusion that inevitably results, end up making great art, or actually pulling the trigger (if not both). In perceiving this truth, we better understand the brilliance of Pavement. This country is teeming with super-serious grad students and rock critics whose faux-intellectual obsession with lead singer Stephen Malkmus' use of metaphor, irony, word collage, and, oh yeah, irony (the slanted half of Pavement, if you will), comes at the expense of an understanding and appreciation of the enchanted side. Which is to say that they are too self-conscious to take the plunge and, like, give the requisite third lick necessary to reach the gooey center of the Pavement pop. I get off on wise-ass Malkmian quips like "I learned the truth / the truth of the world / truth I made for you, because / it's just as good," as much as the next guy, but this is only half of Pavement's genius; the astonishing beauty of lines like "How can I, how can I make my body shed for you? / How can I, how can I make my body shed around your metal scars" are overlooked almost entirely. And I think Malkmus is with me on this one because if the new album, Brighten the Corners, is anything, it is a re-statement of romance. The lead track and first single, "Stereo," is a glorious paean to the soul-saving (as opposed to world-saving) power of rock and roll -- especially mindless pop ditties which stoop to conquer the airwaves with lyrics about Geddy Lee's voice and a Kaiser's cyst -- which sounds like a born-again Bono jumping up and down on his bed in fly-goggles and vinyl pants (imaginary flying-V stratocaster in hand, natch) the morning after Rattle and Hum drew mud at the box office. And that's the least romantic song of the bunch. On "Date With Ikea," Scott Kannenberg plays newlywed games; on "Shady Lane," Malkmus fantasizes about spending the rest of his life in suburban bliss after his first date with a summer babe. Don't call Don McLean just yet though, cynics; Pavement hasn't turned into God Street Wine. Lines like "You've been chosen as an extra in the movie adaptation of the sequel to your life" prevent insulin shock and continue to validate Pavement's share of carbon.

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