or better or worse, we here at Stylus, in all of our autocratic consumer-crit greed, are slaves to timeliness. A record over six months old is often discarded, deemed too old for publication, a relic in the internet age. That's why each week at Stylus, one writer takes a look at an album with the benefit of time. Whether it has been unjustly ignored, unfairly lauded, or misunderstood in some fundamental way, we aim with On Second Thought to provide a fresh look at albums that need it.

Equally revered and reviled, Pavement’s final album seemingly came from left field. Sure, by the time 1997’s Brighten The Corners appeared, the group had markedly shed the trappings of their noisy, dissonant earlier work, retaining their impeccable musicianship and uncanny melodic ear. But even so, few expected Pavement to trade in their Feelies licks (that were alternately condensed and cinematic in scope) for slack jams that recalled The Fall on Nyquil. However, those who set aside their initial qualms would go on to find that Terror Twilight was a magnificent album, and a truly befitting swan song for such an illustrious group of musicians.

People can argue all they want about the topic, but I think it was pretty clear from Pavement’s very first album that Stephen Malkmus was, at heart, a helpless romantic. For every bitter, twisted anthem he concocted, there was always a shimmering antidote to be had in the end (see the transition from “Unfair” to “Gold Soundz” on Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain). Opener “Spit On A Stranger” begins with a briefly jolting blast of noise before segueing into a lilting, spiraling guitar figure. Before you know it, Malkmus’ voice begins to emanate from the speakers, drenched in a syrupy sweetness, parading out lines like the poignant “Honey, I’m a prize and you’re a catch, and we’re a perfect match, like two bitter strangers.” Such words are all but unforeseen from a man who once sang “I wasted all your precious time, was a sorry thing to do....I wasted it all on you.” Nevertheless, the introspection is a refreshing turn, and the song stands as one of the strongest in the band’s catalogue. The luminous guitar sheen, here underplayed by layers of gentle, swirling noise, is both the product of Pavement’s first foray into a 24 track studio, and the undeniable influence of then-uber producer Nigel Godrich (who had made a name for himself at the helm of landmark recordings by Beck and Radiohead in the years preceding Terror Twilight).

The following track, suitably dubbed “Folk Jam,” sees the band experimenting with banjos. Later in the album, harmonica can be heard in the four-on-the-floor rocker “Platform Blues” (via Radiohead’s Johnny Greenwood). Indeed, the influence of Workingman’s Dead-era Grateful Dead looms large on the proceedings, as admitted by Malkmus himself. The effervescent melody of “Speak, See, Remember” is pure Garcia, channeled through a sunburned aesthete who’s had his fill of alt-rock. But elsewhere lie laconic melodies, stunning guitar interplay, and an irrefutable passion that is pure Pavement. The raucous chorus of “Billie,” replete with vintage Bob Nastanovich squeals, winds down into a soothing finish that plays like an otherworldly “Stop Breathing.” Closer “Carrot Rope” harkens back to Brighten The Corners’ playful b-sides, yet adds a whole new dimension to the band, with vocals volleyed back and forth between Malkmus, Scott Kannberg, and Mark Ibold. Too little, too late in the end.

Rumors that the album was a thinly veiled Malkmus solo effort were not unfounded, as, unlike all other previous releases, there were no Kannberg tunes (the virtues of which are debatable), and many of the songs had been demoed for well over a year, as well as performed at two Malkmus solo appearances. A grueling tour in support of the album found the band at the end of its rope, all the while playing the most focused, and arguably best, concerts of their career. After a December 1999 show in the United Kingdom, the band went on an indefinite hiatus. It was not until almost a year later that Malkmus officially announced the dissolution of one of America’s greatest bands.

As detached as it was from the rest of the band’s outings, Terror Twilight served not only as a primer on the band’s seemingly endless range, but as a reminder of how important the band was in the scheme of 90’s music, both within the world of indie rock, and otherwise. Their blood continues to flow through the lifeline of the scene, and remains forever ensconced in the sound, image, and practice of countless followers. Every generation needs its Velvet Underground. We were just lucky enough to have Pavement as ours.