Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks, Oran Mor, Glasgow

Photo: Michael Gallacher
It’s pretty difficult to say anything about The Jicks and their music that Stephen Malkmus hasn’t already said himself in his lyrics – creativity, nostalgia, the tribulations of being a musician are all covered. Malkmus’ distinctive style is a well honed collection of ticks, clever pacing, puns, and of course vivid and sometimes surreal imagery. Lines like “Condoleezza’s Rice/ Scattered on the floor” (‘Scattergories’) make him the Chris Morris of alt rock.

A full to bursting Oran Mor gives their full appreciation – it’s every middle aged man for himself down the front as some people forget that their knees may no longer be as bouncy as they were in the early 90s. Still the Jicks seem to have garnered a few newer fans too – and rightly so, the new LP ‘Wig Out At Jag Bags’ is their most immediate yet and songs from it dominate tonight’s set.

The proggier streak of the band’s earlier records occupies the middle section of the evening, Malkmus and co de-contextualise riffs and change time signatures with alarming regularity. They take elements of something less cool and pummel them into their own unique shapes. Maybe deep down every indie oddball wishes they were a “rawk” god in a hair metal band. There is noticeable more communication on stage, and possibly more fun being had, than at the Pavement reunion shows of a few years ago.

‘Lariat’, latest single and easily the most direct song on the LP, has the crowd singing along to the “We grew up listening to the music from the best decade ever” line. Malkmus is clearly amused, “turn to the person next to you and tell them they’re the best decade ever. Look into their eyes and propose… a threesome!”

The kind of guitar noodling that the set is prone too would be troubling if it didn’t all seem to be in the best humour. Nothing is too serious, and if the playing wasn’t so skilled you might be inclined to sense an inside joke.

‘Houston Hades’ see bassist Joanna Bolme suggest they need choreography, and there follows some musing on the imagined adventures of local heroes Mogwai on the cabaret circuit.

‘Independence Street’ has shades of a laid back Stones number, ‘Jo Jo’s Jacket’ goes down well with the long-time fans, and the set rounds out with LP closer ‘Surreal Teenagers’ - no one else could throw away couplets about moving to Micronesia with their loyal manservant make them sound catchy.

A staccato encore of Pavement’s ‘Harness Your Hopes’ leads to a couple of hardy folks getting up on top of the crowd, but despite the flights of fancy everyone comes back to earth.