Live Review: Pavement - O2 Apollo, Manchester 20/10/22
Indie slackers Pavement return to Manchester for the first time in nearly 25 years for a set that’s scrappy, loud and about as perfect as one could hope for.
October has been something of a crazy month for gigs in Manchester, with various tours hitting the city’s venues from just about any genre you can think of. Tonight however, feels especially significant as Californian slackers Pavement hit the Apollo as part of their reunion tour.
A band that which none of my generation thought they’d get to see live, but whose influence is felt across loose and lackadaisical side of contemporary indie still, tonight play host to a venue almost at capacity, with only the upper reaches of the circle devoid of those in checked shirts and cuffed jeans. Indeed, the atmosphere is as one might expect. With much of the crowd erring on the older side of 30, friendly and easy-going, with a ripple of understated anticipation pervading the heat that rises from the stalls below.
Naturally, the feeling of anticipation heightens as the house lights dim and the stage is bathed is bathed in blues and purples from exactly 9:05. As a backing track fizzes and crackles and whirrs, Pavement take to the stage, first Bob Nastanovich, then the rest of the band, the finally the wiry frame of Stephen Malkmus appears and takes up his position stage right.
“Hello Manchester,” he says plainly before launching straight into ‘Major Leagues’. It’s a subdued start, the crowd in the stalls subdued also, though far from unappreciative; a chorus of whoops and “We love you”s echoing out at regular intervals from here on out. ‘Shoot the Singer (1 Sick Verse)’ picks the pace up significantly, and it’s also here in which we get the first taste of the band’s trademark looseness; the sound levels feeling somewhat uneven, and lead guitar slipping out of tune on the odd occasion. Of course, this is all par for the course when it comes to Pavement, a band who throughout their career have always walked the fine line between messy and masterful.
‘Summer Babe’ is where things really seem to come into their own, with both band and crowd coming together in a joyously scrappy and hazy union. With sound levels now evened out (at least as even as Pavement go), the crowd are spurred into gentle movement, though one pocket in front of Malkmus harbours twice the energy of the rest of the crowd, jumping in unison throughout each and every track.
From here, the band truly break into their stride, a riotous calamity of technicoloured strobes and huge walls of fuzz that makes us realise we probably needed earplugs. Loud though it may be, it’s truly a delight to see the band on stage together, having been too young the first time round. From Malkmus’ erratic angular movements, to Nastanovich prowling the stage armed with a either cowbell or microphone, it’s a deliciously rich affair, and though it may lack any of the polish we’ve come to expect from shows of this size, therein lies much of Pavement’s appeal.
Of course, to be this loose and to make it work, a band needs to be tight to begin with, and it’s evident across the board tonight just how tight a band Pavement are, when they want to be. At points uses his the feedback from his amp with such deftness it’s barely distinguishable as feedback, while the use of two drumkits (albeit one stripped back) allows for a steadfast bottom end that supports the lush and loose walls of guitar elsewhere.
26 songs of material that spans the entirety of their career, the likes of ‘Shady Lane’, ‘Gangsters and Pranksters’ and ‘Spit on A Stranger’ all get an airing this evening. There’s very little crowd interaction from the band though, aside from the occasional thanks, and as such a breakneck pace is established early and does little to relent until we find ourselves looking at an empty stage, with guitar techs scurrying back and forth, switching out guitars and tweaking amplifiers.
Naturally, the roar that erupts from the crowd as Pavement return to the stage is deafening. The band respond in kind with a hefty five track encore that includes arguably the band’s only commercial success n the form of ‘Cut Your Hair’. It’s this that receives the strongest response of the evening, and it’s surely here the band will take their leave. Instead we’re treated to one final hurrah in the form of a cover of Jim Pepper’s ‘Wichi Tai To’.
And with that there’s nothing left to do but head for the door, ears ringing and safe in the knowledge that not only have we just seen one of indie’s most influential and important bands, but that it’s unlikely we ever will do again.
Words by Dave Beech
Photos by Maryleen Guevara
