So Pavement Week ends tonight, with one more show in Central Park. We all had a good time, though, right? Dredged up some memories? Sung a few half-remembered choruses? Got rained on? Made some money? (Actually, no, we didn’t make any money.) And though the set lists have varied impressively, and everyone’s got their own personal favorite (“Perfect Depth”! “Here”!), there’s still a few neglected songs they’d do well to dust off before they abandon us (maybe) for good. Such as:
“The Unseen Power of the Picket Fence”
One thing Pavement Week has lacked is Surprise Special Guests in the Jay-Z vein, so what say we pull Michael Stipe onstage tonight and let him sing backup vox on this so-arch-it’s-probably-sincere ode to R.E.M., rife as it is with incisive criticism (“‘Time After Time’ was my least-favorite song!”) and a rousing concluding chant of “THEY’RE MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA! G-G-G-G-G-GEORGIA!” And hell, after that, play “Time After Time.”
“Hit the Plane Down”
You see the worst song on Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain by a sizable margin; we see a golden opportunity for Spiral Stairs to turn the mic over to SOTC’s Official Favorite Pavement Member, Bob Nastanovich, for four minutes of so of robust yellin’. Grab a bullhorn and howl “I’VE GOT TO MELT IT!” for awhile, Bob — you’ll feel better, and so will we.
“Transport Is Arranged”
These shows tend to luxuriate in long, meandering, borderline-prog-rock jams of indeterminate length and attention span (think “Fin” or “Stop Breathing” or “Fight This Generation”), so here’s another — the wayward middle section here gets surprisingly rousing and thrashy. Plus “A voice coach taught me to sing/He couldn’t teach me to love” is a pretty great line.
For democratic purposes I reached out to Fluxblog guru and certifiable Pavement fanatic Matthew Perpetua for his personal pick; he went for either “Old to Begin” or this Wowee Zowee-era b-side, which I chose on the basis of the hilariously half-assed falsetto chorus, which would be fun to recreate live with Nastanovich + however many thousands of people he can entreat into whinnying along. This song is just barely not romantic.
Because you just sold out four straight shows in Central Park, dudes. I’d say you made it.