Stephen Malkmus Series: “Real Emotional Trash”

As Stephen Malkmus moved further away from his Pavement tenure and put out more solo albums, a pattern began to emerge. Each record was a response to the previous one. Whereas Stephen Malkmus was a platform for him as a songwriter and indie music figurehead, Pig Lib was a full-on rock and roll band album that formally introduces the Jicks. Getting married and having a kid meant Malkmus stayed home and put out his own basement tapes, namely 2005’s Face the Truth. Malkmus described the approach for Face the Truth in a 2008 interview:

“It was just not done properly, in a way. But I was hoping that it would have a different feel to it, hopefully a good feel, sort of an improvisational, temporal thing, like a DIY record from the 80s, bands like the Desperate Bicycles or the Homosexuals. These are British bands that were kinda on the outside of punk rock, post-punk, they just said ‘we’ll do everything ourselves, we’ll record ourselves, we’ll do it really cheap and make a 7″ with a black and white cover. Everyone can do it.’ So that was kind of the spirit of that record, not to make it too perfect, and I really didn’t think anyone else deserved to have their name on it….There could be some mistakes or some brilliance on there. But it was my prerogative, I think I’m allowed to do that. I’ve made like ten albums, and you can have in your catalogue an album that’s like that.”

How would he respond to Face the Truth? With 2008’s Real Emotional Trash, he returned to the joys of playing with the Jicks once again and it became the loudest, jammiest, and Jicks-iest album yet, as evidenced by 10-minute-plus title track:

“Real Emotional Track” starts with Malkmus playing a lovely melody on guitar. It’s folky and slightly reminiscent of the Grateful Dead-esque intro for “Water and a Seat.” Malkmus begins to sing about going on a date, using a cliché overheard from the previous generation: “Taking out the wife.” There’s an ironic sparkle in his eye as he uses “the” instead of “my” before “wife,” adopting the language of what a stereotypical Baby Boomer middle-aged man might say. However, Malkmus is now a middle-aged man himself and he’s embracing it as he sings, “Daddy’s on the run.” Perhaps he’s envisioning the intimate possibilities that come after date night. It’s strange bedroom talk for this middle-aged father, which he cops to: “Easy said but less often done / Point me in the direction / Of your real emotional trash.” With the song’s title phrase, Malkmus seemingly says that he’s at the age of not being romantic anymore and having to couch all these romantic gestures in the framing of a joke. This ironic stance provides a little distance as a way to feel less self-conscious as opposed to the outright love song found within “Freeze the Saints.”

What stands out the most in the first verse and chorus of “Real Emotional Trash” is how the words, the gorgeous melody, and Malkmus’s singing and guitar playing are all in lockstep. The combination of these elements recalls the instantly recognizable melody-and-lyric pairings, mid-tempo anthems found on Pavement’s Brighten the Corners, such as “Transport Is Arranged,” “Old to Begin,” or “Type Slowly.” Malkmus commented on this blend in a 2024 interview with Vanity Fair:

“There’s a lot of just loose, not-airtight shit in our music. That’s a good thing though because the music side is the most important side. The words go with the music; it’s doing a dance together.”

That holistic dance between the melody and lyrics is the key to Malkmus songwriting. It enables him to infuse meaning into what could be viewed as a nonsense phrase and become instantly memorable. As a result, “Takin’ out the wife / We’re taking out the wife” contains the exact set of words to fit that particular guitar phrasing and vocal melody. So, it’s always a happy surprise when there’s a second verse with an entirely new set of lyrics that also beautifully fits the distinctive melody and guitar part. In the case of the second verse of “Real Emotional Trash,” Malkmus sings “Abstract citizen” in the first line. It’s an old trick of combining two disparate, unconnected words into a new poetic phrase that, paired with the gorgeous melody, enables the impressionistic qualities of that exact association of words to shine. 

Moving through the second verse, he repeats both “We’re talking out the wife” from the first verse as well as the second verse’s opening line, but he adjusts the phrasing to sing “The abstract city-sun.” This is yet another strikingly evocative image that expands the idea of what an “abstract citizen” could be within the landscape of an “abstract city-sun.” Malkmus is a master at this kind of found poetry discovered through verbal repetition and slight adjustments in phrasing. The most memorable instance of this move by Malkmus is from Pavement’s “Cut Your Hair” in which the repetition of the word “career” becomes “Korea.” 

The rest of the second verse plays out with a few fun surprises, including what could be a veiled sexual innuendo — “Who will get there first” — and then a return of the chorus. At this point, the song is three minutes long. Malkmus could have played a quick guitar solo and then ended “Real Emotional Trash” and been left with yet another classic Malkmus, out-of-left-field come-on song. But instead, Malkmus and the Jicks embark on a different journey, extending the track with multiple sections and jams to create the longest song on an album made up of mostly long songs. 

At this point, Malkmus and the Jicks had recorded long songs in the studio before, namely, the magisterial prog of “1% of One” from Pig Lib, which features two different extravagant guitar builds as well as Face the Truth’s gloriously weird stoner basement jam “No More Shoes.” Live, both songs evolved into showcases for guitar hero-type solos by Malkmus and opportunities for the band to push their improvisational inclinations. 

One factor that accounts for the presence of so many extended instrumental passages on Real Emotional Trash is the addition of a new member of the Jicks: drummer Janet Weiss. Formerly of Quasi and Sleater-Kinney, Malkmus has repeatedly talked about the good fortune of being able to add her to the band and gushed about her playing, such as in this 2008 interview in The AV Club:

“Janet’s also kind of out of control, in her own way…that she’s an avalanche. In a good way….Janet plays a lot, she wants to play a lot, so who knows. Hopefully, like, Pearl Jam won’t ask her to be in their band or something, and she’ll just have to do it.”

Her avalanche-in-a-good-way drumming is unmistakable within the first instrumental passage of “Real Emotional Trash,” though she and the other Jicks always provide support for Malkmus’s guitar playing. And there are a lot of guitars in this section! Through all his solo records to this point and going back to Pavement days, Malkmus has utilized the technique of overdubbing multiple harmony parts on guitar many times before, but giant, audacious, and beautiful guitar harmonies are featured on every song on Real Emotional Trash. It’s a clear stylistic choice by Malkmus. The first instrumental passage of “Real Emotional Trash” is a shining example of this approach. It sounds as if there are a hundred different guitar parts as Malkmus has built a vast, Jimmy Page-esque guitar cathedral. The guitar voices vary beyond just Malkmus’s normal thick tone as there’s one that sounds like a laser cutting through metal as well as another that could be mistaken for a bank alarm becoming sentient.

Asked in an interview at the time of Real Emotional Trash’s release if his solos on the album were improvised, Malkmus responded:

“They were originally, and then I tidied them up and turned them into parts. Maybe some things I remembered from touring. And then in the studio, during the rough takes I would play and listen and decide to double it or tidy it up or change it. So, to me it doesn’t sound very wanky. I love Dinosaur Jr., but to me when J. Mascis kinda gets in one range and shreds for a long time, the same five notes… he’s brilliant at it. That’s good wankery, or when it’s good it’s good wankery. Or just one guy playing a blues scale over and over, that’s wankery. But I dunno just, maybe someone who was used to no solos at all and only choruses at all, could see it that way. It depends on your tastes.”

No wankery in “Real Emotional Trash” as this first instrumental passage gets loud and then diminishes in volume over time. The band then resets and begins to build towards something, pushed and prodded by Malkmus’s growing-in-consciousness-bank-alarm guitar, before the band explodes into a new section that’s much faster than before. The Jicks are now in full 70s roadhouse boogie mode (not using the descriptor ch**gle, of course) and their collective delight in playing this style is apparent. 

Over this up-tempo Creedence Clearwater Revival sound, Malkmus starts singing and the lyrics have an entirely new theme, seemingly disconnected from the subject matter in the first part of “Real Emotional Trash.” It’s a story song of sorts set in the west with the inclusion of place names such as ‘Frisco, Sausalito, and “the Mexican border.” It’s a seedy story of the west as the narrator stumbles along with freewheeling, booze, and drug-fueled swings of emotion. At first, he feels “like a snake with five eggs stuck in my stomach” but then once he has returned to California, he is full of swagger and boastful confidence, claiming “You got no reputation, never took a swing / Silent when they handed spines out.”

Who is the narrator talking to in this section? Is it the same woman from the first part of the song? Whoever it is, this pair are on a gluttonous tear, consuming “clams for dessert” in Sausalito and whose debauchery results in the mate spilling “chardonnay on [her] gypsy skirt.” Perhaps the narrator from the first part of “Real Emotional Trash” is daydreaming about the extreme forms of what a date with his wife could be, breaking the normal dinner-and-a-movie routine. Instead, he imagines this lovers-on-the-run narrative. The refrain from this second part of the song is Malkmus chanting what sounds like “policeman” but then morphs into “police me” through repetition. This could mean that the narrator wants to be protected from his fantasies or perhaps he desires an authoritative presence from his partner in excess, desire, and love.

As soon as Malkmus stops singing, Mike Clark, the Jicks’ piano player, begins playing a lovely new motif over the song’s relentless rhythm. Soon, Malkmus complements this piano figure with multiple matching overdubbed guitar harmonies. These gorgeous little trills extend “Real Emotional Trash” even further as they play this glorious passage for a while. Soon, the rhythm dissipates as Malkmus and the Jicks transition back to the track’s intro. Malkmus plays this part slower and quieter than in the beginning. The guitar playing is exquisite as he gently brings the song to a close. 

Malkmus and the Jicks first played “Real Emotional Trash” in 2004 before the song was recorded in the studio. Then it became a live staple for a number of years after the release of Real Emotional Trash before becoming rarer as the Jicks added to their repertoire. The essential Jicks Picks collection shares excellent selections of live “Real Emotional Trash” performances. The rendition from March 28, 2008 at the 9:30 Club in Washington DC shows how locked in the Jicks are, allowing Malkmus to play the part of guitar hero with confidence:

A few months later sees another classic version of “Real Emotional Trash” on May 8, 2008 at a hometown gig at the Doug Fir Lounge in Portland:

As the band is about to kick off, a woman yells a request for the Grateful Dead’s classic “China Cat Sunflower.” Without missing a beat, Malkmus incorporates that song’s title into the melody of “Real Emotional Trash,” singing “China China China cat / You are my starflower growing higher green and pink and rainbow-colored,” before resuming “Taking out the wife.” But then crafty Malkmus instead sings “He’s taking out the Weiss,” referencing his Jick compatriot. By now, we know that Malkmus doesn’t like to sing anything straight, but he finds new expressions in these adjustments, such as his cool, elongated delivery of “abstract citizen.” As the performance moves into the first instrumental passage, the band is unified even as they improvise variation upon variation of the “Real Emotional Trash” theme, eventually evolving into true psychedelic territory, perhaps in tribute to the “China Cat Sunflower” opening. The band pick up speed as Malkmus’s assured playing, spitting out a dazzling array of musical ideas, eventually leads them into the second part of “Real Emotional Trash.” The lyrics here are all over the place with Malkmus cheekily and clumsily substituting in “cheap Dodge caravan” and other place names, causing him to screw up the high volume of words that are supposed to fit into the section’s up-tempo meter. All is forgiven because Malkmus and Clark immediately launch into their alluring guitar-and-piano pairing with not as many trills as the studio version before the entire band lands the plane of the song with the traditional opening. Expert stuff here.

The “China Cat Sunflower” tease became prophetic as Malkmus and the Jicks would come to play the Dead standard twice, once on October 4, 2014 in Los Angeles with a snippet of The Wipers’ “Alien Boy” thrown into the middle section and then again two years later on October 2, 2016, fittingly in The Dead’s home base of San Francisco: 

The latter version sees Malkmus and the Jicks doing the full “China Cat > I Know You Rider” cycle with the extended jam transition in between. It demonstrates once again how comfortable this band is improvisatory playing, especially when taking this classic Dead jam vehicle out for a ride. 

Not to get into genre arguments, but it’s easy to see how the Jicks could be classified as a jamband, especially tracking their live performances of “Real Emotional Trash.” February 25, 2015 sees the band perform a long, 13-minutes plus version in Adelaide, Australia:

There are two big improvisatory jams here with the first coming in between the two singing sections as in the studio version. Clark’s piano and Malkmus’s guitar weave back and forth, elevating the playing as the band expertly emerges from one part to the other. Malkmus’s spacey guitar effects feel especially Jerry Garcia-coded. Malkmus and the Jicks don’t explode into the up-tempo section, but instead opt to go quiet in their collective exploration. Malkmus finally begins to sing the story part, but he either doesn’t remember the words or is trying to make up new ones. At one point he mutters, “Rip out your spine.” Soon, he alternates between singing a line and flinging guitar figures as he reshapes the form of the song in real time. This leads into the second long jam, which builds to a peak. Eventually, it also gives way to a new extended passage featuring only the drums that quietly sustain the fast-paced rhythm. This creates a massive amount of tension and anticipation before setting off a huge, full-band detonation. It’s a thrilling exclamation point, exhibiting the Jicks’ live wire versatility and adeptness while satisfying the most basic needs that a rock and roll audience desires. 

“Real Emotional Trash” and the rest of the songs on Real Emotional Trash mark the moment that Malkmus and the Jicks embraced the exploratory possibilities regularly associated with other jambands. Of course, Malkmus had recorded long songs before this point and had always experimented in concert with impromptu cover renditions, extended guitar solos, and improvised lyrics. It’s with Real Emotional Trash that Malkmus has a substantial and triumphant guitar awakening. This epiphany becomes even more pronounced in live performances as evidenced by the various versions of “Real Emotional Trash.” All diverge from the studio version in different ways yet are singularly gripping. “Real Emotional Trash” is an elemental and seminal Stephen Malkmus and Jicks song.

Photograph courtesy of Bryon Anton.