Stephen Malkmus

When Pavement broke up, no one knew what to expect from Stephen Malkmus, the Natalie Wood of enigmatic American guitar boys. But it's safe to say that no one expected a solo debut as great as Stephen Malkmus. Having relocated to Portland, Oregon, he put together a new band of local buddies, the Jicks, and cut a bunch of off-the-cuff songs about love, sex, Greek gods, pirates, and the later work of Yul Brynner ("Perhaps you saw me in Westworld/I acted like a robotic cowboy"). In the tradition of Lou Reed and Tom Verlaine, Stephen Malkmus is a songwriter throwing off the constraints of a band that really didn't constrain him much. But he loosens up for the direct emotion of "Church on White," an elegy for a dead friend, and the finale of "Jo Jo's Jacket," mumbling the words "it's alright Ma, I'm only bleeding" before launching into a 30-second frenzy of debris-slide guitar babble.

Pig Lib was more ambitious, defying indie-rock fashion with a move into '70s-style folk–prog rock. Apparently, Malkmus wasn't kidding about all the time he spent listening to old Wishbone Ash and Incredible String Band albums. Not all of it works -- the opener "Water and a Seat" is like bad Tull, and don't even start with the godawful album title. But now that he had a real rhythm section to play around with, he could write songs with the subtle punch of "Animal Midnight," "Us," and "The Ramp of Death." His guitar is brazenly beautiful, and, as usual, so is his voice in whispery ballads such as "Craw Song" and "Vanessa From Queens." The album came with a bonus CD of five songs, three of them good, including the best of the Jicks' long guitar jams, "Old Jerry." Still learning new songwriting tricks at a time when most of his indie contemporaries have either flamed out on major labels or shuffled off to grad school, Malkmus will be worth listening to whatever he chooses to do next. (ROB SHEFFIELD)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide