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Face The Truth

by

Stephen Malkmus

 
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Face The Truth

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Average: 4.0 (123 ratings)

For his third solo album, the ex-Pavement leader digs a guitar groove and tweaks the studio equally effectively.

  • We Say...

    Review by Andy Beta

    Far along the winding solo path though he may be, Stephen Malkmus never wanders far from where the Pavement ends. His previous two albums, whether solely under his own name or with his backing band the Jicks, were faced with the unenviable task of measuring up to Slanted & Enchanted and Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, and Face the Truth, his third album, faces the same unspoken test.

    But when the wonky Korgs burst open on "Pencil Rot" and "Malediction," it would appear that Malkmus has taken to the high seas with the Fiery Furnaces' insular Blueberry Boat (and all of its analog booty). There's plenty of that well-dug guitar groove that he plowed post-Pavement (check him stretching out on the eight-minute "No More Shoes," slyly quoting Kiss along the way), but he also re-creates his old band's unpredictable bends and turns in the studio.

    Malkmus mans most of the instruments this time out, tweaking synths as well as sitar strings. He sounds so relaxed in his Portland studio that he threatens at times to turn positively down-home with his breeziness. Is that banjo sneaking in for "It Kills"? And could that be the Malkmus famille hanging out in the backyard while "Mama" cooks dinner? Call it "Home on the Range Life."

  • They Say...

    Review by Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide

    Considering the seemingly plainspoken title of his third solo album, plus the extracurricular knowledge that the former Pavement leader has settled down and is a first-time father, it would be easy to assume that Face the Truth is where Stephen Malkmus finally turns into a self-conscious adult, ironing out the kinks in his music, tempering his humor, and starts making classic rock records for Mojo readers. Frankly, such a leap backward toward respectability doesn't seem all that far-fetched in light of the meandering, monochromatic Pig Lib, which suggested that Malkmus was standing on the verge of becoming a modern-day Tony McPhee, churning out guitar jams to an ever more selective audience. Knee-jerk assumptions shouldn't always be trusted, however, since Face the Truth isn't plain or predictable at all: it's a vibrant return to form. Malkmus is making records as he did in the heyday of Pavement, treating the Jicks as a backing band that can contribute a little in the studio but is designed for the stage. He lays down most of the instrumental tracks himself, overdubs acoustic guitars, banjos, and sitars, dabbles in synths, and plays around with the mixes so they bend, twist, slur, and suddenly explode. Only on the misleading first single, "Post-Paint Boy" -- a sly swipe at modern art -- does he sound as conventional as he did on Pig Lib, but it's sharper than most of that record, and it acts as a good anchor to this gleefully excessive album. Malkmus is driven by the same mischievous spirit that fueled his first solo album, but where that record had a proudly impish, even silly, bent, Face the Truth has an air of mystery. It's not so much that Malkmus is inscrutable -- a criticism often lazily leveled against him -- but that he's made the album with the sole desire of amusing himself, indulging his whims in a way reminiscent of the wild detours of Wowee Zowee. But Face the Truth isn't just tighter than that album -- its 40 minutes zoom by -- it's concentrated, with each track packed until it's ready to burst. Yet for as indulgent as the oversaturated mixes are, they're never overstuffed: each instrument, each overdub, each blip and squawk is there for a reason, and no song, not even the epic eight-minute sprawl of "No More Shoes," lasts longer than necessary. One of Malkmus' greatest gifts as a record-maker has been his arrangements, which are initially bewilderingly dense, but they slowly unveil to revealing their intricacies so that on repeated plays it's easy to marvel at how the music crests and peaks. Those loose yet exacting arrangements were missing on the straight and narrow Pig Lib, but he's returned to that strength here while marrying it to a greater sense of sonic adventure, and it makes Face the Truth quite thrilling and rewarding.

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