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“Silence Kit” - Pavement
(Words/music: Stephen Malkmus, appears on Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, Matador 1994)

I try my best to stay away from “this equals that” kind of criticism in part because more often than not it’s imposing something onto the song from the outside.  Sure, there’s times where songs or albums or songwriters have obvious touchstones (and you know this because every single review will mention it), but I rarely found a “this sounds like that plus that” kind of synopsis helpful.

That being said, I’m about to break my own rule when I say that “Silence Kit” and Bruce Springsteen’s “Thunder Road” have some less than obvious points of relation.  Both Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain and Born to Run found their creators reaching a wider audience (Springsteen soon became “The Boss,” Pavement and Matador Records rode the mid-90s alterna-boom to a gold album and a distribution deal with Capitol Records) and both albums start with songs about leaving town.  However, while “Thunder Road” is a large and cinematic (or, to its detractors, “overblown) song about cars as a source for personal redemption and the opportunity to “make something” of yourself, “Silence Kit” exchanges optimism for anti-climax.

Springsteen once called “Thunder Road” his “invitation” to his listeners, and “Silence Kit” unfolds similarly.  The slow groove at the twenty second mark, Malkmus’ high notes right before the minute mark (it almost sounds like he’s saying “hiiiiiii”, but let’s not get carried away), and even the way Malkmus seems to give advice to the “silent kid” (the song became “Silence Kit” on the Crooked Rain sleeve due to an ink blot on the artwork) all seem like an invitation to leave town.  However, while “Thunder Road” pulls out of town, “Silence Kit” stalls at the city line where they merely talk about leaving rather than jumping town.

The vehicle, in this case, seems to be music as the last verse talks about grabbing drum sticks to pull “myself into the spotlight, ecstasy feels so warm inside.”  However, just as the attempt to leave stalls at the edge of town, this rush fades after the show, leaving the narrator alone with his two hands.  It shares the same sense of urgency and yearning for “more” (whatever that it), yet “Silence Kit” ends more realistically; all of our problems can’t be solved by driving away into the sunset, no matter how much we’d like to just jump in and run.  Instead, Pavement explore life’s contradictions, absurdities, and quirks over the rest of Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, with “Silence Kit” as the invitation to follow the band along.

PS - this post is a hat tip to my friend Devine, who recently started a new blog this is the city line that culls its name from this song.  He writes about sports, music, and other topics of interest with the same humor, self-deprication, and razor-sharp wit that makes me love Pavement, so it’s worth checking out, sports fans.

More on Pavement: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm