Big Boi + Pavement at Pitchfork Music Festival: Live review

Photos: Erica Gannett and Marzena Abrahamik

In hindsight, it was a bit of a lose-lose situation. Big Boi had to play OutKast songs, because, well, there's not much else people want to hear. Like he said in our interview, people would throw eggs if he didn't give us "So Fresh, So Clean." But in doing so he underlined how crucial Andre 3000 is to the duo's appeal. Chatboards have been recently filled with "Big Boi is better than Andre 3000" arguments of late, mostly because Big Boi is active and swimming in praise for his solo debut. I'm not here to say Andre 3000 is better, though he's always been more my style. No, the two are yin and yang, equally crucial to group. Duh. Even though he rattled off every conceivable OutKast classic ("Elevators"! "Player's Ball"! "B.O.B."!), watching Dre on the video screens left a hole in my gut. Dozens of songs were played in medley fashion. I was reminded of seeing Prince a decade back, who similarly showcased a godly treasure of songs, playing a bit of each for just a couple minutes, before flowing right into the next. Yes, it's impressive, but breathless and somewhat disengaging. That being said, it was still one of the best sets of the festival. It's friggin' OutKast music.

Stephen Malkmus is such a prankster. As with many Pavement shows in the '90s, Ryan Murphy of Drag City, the label that first put out the band's records, came on stage in his Rockin' Ryan Murphy persona, completely pulling one over on the entire crowd. His Andy Kaufmanesque "shock jock DJ" routine had me rolling. People were SCREAMING at guy and booing, as he led them along with blatant sarcasm, like "people need to steal music from these major labels like MERGE and DRAG CITY" and "Pitchfork is the minor leagues for Lollapalooza." I was cracking up, I enjoy uncomfortable humor of that sort, but it's understandable that people flipped out, and indicative of Pavement's entire set. Malkmus was recreating/revisiting something that nobody here remembered. And the frontman/guitarist seems to be genuinely confused as to why people are now reinterested in his band. I caught Pavement's last two tours, and they were pro—slick even (except for Bob Nastanovich, who I'll get to). Remember that Radiohead associate Nigel Godrich produced the last record. The "slacker" tag was bullshit. Anyone who's seen Malkmus lately can attest to that. His new band, the Jicks, are Grateful Dead–like on stage. The Portland, Oregon dweller is a killer guitarist.

However, for some reason, Pavement has decided to play up the slacker stereotype. Drawing heavily from the band's early catalog, Pavement play like 40-somethings trying to recapture the sound of being 20. I certainly got a kick from Malkmus calling out a dive restaurant by our office. "Has anyone here been to Beef & Brandy?" he asked. "You should get the beef with the brandy."

These guys know what they're doing (Mark Ibold is in Sonic Youth), which leads me to believe they're slouching on purpose. Well,  everyone but Nastanovich, who, like Murphy, was another old school Pavement element to which people who grew up on only the records were not accustomed. Nastanovich is a hype man, essentially, the Flavor Flav of Pavement. And at Pitchfork he was mixed WAY too high, screaming and shouting over the songs, even filling in for Malkmus, who annouced after a few songs that he'd lost his voice. Gulp. The song selection was fantastic, and folks sang along to all the words (yes, Smashing Pumpkins and Stone Temple Pilots still get name-checked and ripped in "Range Life."). Perhaps it was because it was Pitchfork, and with all the lo-fi going around these days Malkmus felt responsible and obliged to play along. I asked a young coworker what she thought and expected. "I just wanted them to sound good," she lamented. Malkmus could have sounded good, had he so chosen. If only the Allman Brothers were trendier with hipsters than Ariel Pink.