Happy Valentines Day, Pavement!

Okay, I know you don’t exist anymore. In fact, you haven’t existed for quite some time. Hell, Stephen’s already put out four solo albums (all of which are masterfully executed and supremely beautiful). But even after the break-up, Pavement, I still love you. And you can’t stop love.

Remember when you sang to me, “Heaven is a truck?” I understand what you mean now. You are so deep, yet so carefree. You feel no shame in expressing the youth that we all contain within, although some choose to supress it. Remember when you made that video where everyone was fired from the band? You know, the one for “Painted Soldiers?” That was hilarious! It meant so much to me that not  only did you churn out kickass songs, but you always tried to make me laugh. Thanks, Pavement.

Pavement, I wish you hadn’t died. I know you live on through other menas, such as CDs and YouTube videos. But you have no idea how much I wish I could travel in a time machine and see you, in a dank dive bar in some pre-hipster city like Seattle or Portland. You know, before iPods. Before even fat people would don skinny jeans. Before Malkmus was considered a god. I want to see you as a child, crawling up the stairway to rock-n-roll heaven.

You finally settled for a range life. I hope that’s what you wanted, and I hope you’re happy. Happy Valentines Day, Pavement.

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