BASEMENT JAPES
“MY dog is a superhero today,” says Stephen Malkmus, as he and Magic, his black mongrel, greet Uncut at the back door of their home in Portland, Oregon. Last night, Malkmus left his Volkswagen estate unlocked and, in a stroke of bad luck, a passing delinquent tried the door. “This guy was rifling through my car. I could hear Magic freaking out as I was sleeping – but he went away without taking anything because she was barking at him through the window. She did good! Right, let’s take her out…”
Malkmus fetches a tennis ball and his best racket from the car and we head off to the park. The neighbourhood is a historic one in the east of Portland, its rows of traditional wooden buildings very different from the white plaster of Malkmus’ airier home; much like its owner, the house is a slice of California transplanted to the damp forests of the Pacific Northwest.
“I wanted to live on the West Coast but not Los Angeles or San Francisco,” he says, explaining how he ended up in Portland. “So I just picked here and never left. Not that I’m in heaven here, but it’s pretty good in lethargy.”
Uncut has come to Oregon to discuss Malkmus’s life and art in 2020: his creative process, his listening habits, Pavement’s live reunion, dear departed friends and his new album, Traditional Techniques. The latest in a close-released trilogy of albums, it finds the 53-year-old rejuvenated at an age when some artists are settling down to a safe, nostalgic rhythm. “Sometimes I just cruise along,” says Malkmus, “and that’s good, but I’ve been thinking, ‘What I would want to hear from someone like me if I was a fan?’”
So, in sharp contrast to 2018’s Sparkle Hard, recorded with the Jicks, and last year’s largely electronic solo album, Groove Denied, Traditional Techniques is an acoustic folk album tracked live to tape. Old friend Matt Sweeney is along for the ride on guitar and vocals while Decemberist Chris Funk produces and contributes pedal steel and other instruments. Intriguingly, jazzy double bass, hand drums, traditional Afghani folk instruments and even Moog elevate this earthy, psychedelic stew.
“It was a leap
