It Was One Year Ago Today: Pavement Rocked NYC For What Felt Like A Finale

On October 1, 2024, Pavement played Sony Hall in New York City. I was on the barricade, and I left the show imagining it was their last. I was wrong, last weekend, Pavement returned to the stage in Texas. Shortly after the NYC set, I wrote a recap of the show that got lost somewhere along the way. Now, on the anniversary of the show, I’m excited to share my perspective on one of Pavement’s wildest nights. I’ve made some minor edits to preserve my initial thoughts while updating certain areas for clarity.

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One night, one band. It’s all my Dad and I wanted–one last chance to see our favorite band. The morning tickets went on sale, I had four screens up, the correct logins, and my credit card memorized, but in the end, an empty cart. Pavement’s Reddit board went up in flames as tickets sold out in seconds. 

I grieved by listening to Pavement friend and Silver Jews’ leader, David Berman, and his song “All My Happiness Is Gone.” A perfect fit for how I was feeling. I kept refreshing helplessly; maybe they’d release more, I figured. Then, 20 minutes after the tickets went on sale, I struck gold. I immediately called my Dad. A Pavement fan since he saw them open for Beck in the mid-’90s. 

Scheduled a day before a documentary on the band, “Pavements,” premiered at the NYFF, it wasn’t clear what this show would be like until we entered the venue doors. 

Was it to sell movie tickets? Was it one last cash grab? Was it a farewell? Regardless, we knew it was likely the final show for Pavement. We arrived at the venue a few hours early to secure a good view of Stephen Malkmus, the lead singer, guitar god, and rock idol for a niche group of ’90s misfits. 

An hour or so before the doors opened, my Dad left to get some slices of pizza; after twenty minutes, he returned with two slices of pepperoni and a picture of him and Malkmus. I couldn’t believe it—Stephen Malkmus—the king of indie slacker rock. My Dad prompted me to say hi, as Malkmus was chilling at the end of the block, smoking a cigarette like no time had passed since the ’90s.

I approached him, consumed with unease, intending to share my admiration for his extremely underrated solo work. I built the courage, hoping to avoid an awkward welcome-week-like interaction. 

We talked Pavement, The Hard Quartet, and a highlight was our discussion about Rutgers.

Pavement played their first show at The Court Tavern in New Brunswick, so he was much happier to talk about Rutgers than any Pavement-related subject he has been badgered about for the past 30 years. At the end of our conversation, I snapped a pic with him, shook his hand, and as he walked away, he asked, “Are you in a band?” I shook my head, “It’s not too late!” He exclaimed as he trotted back to the venue.

The night sped up after that. “We met Malkmus?!” I kept repeating to my Dad. Arriving early paid off as we clinched a front-row spot–four feet from Malkmus. Thirty minutes after the show was set to begin, Pavement took the stage and sprung into their first-ever recording, “You’re Killing Me.” An extremely rare moment for Pavement fanatics, as it was only the fifth time the song had been performed live since 1992. The crowd would soon discover that the setlist was filled with rarities.

The show felt like it was following an ‘Eras Tour’ mold for a second. The opening three songs were pulled from their debut EP, “Slay Tracks: 1933–1969,” followed by over half of their debut album, Slanted And Enchanted, being performed. Deep cut after deep cut, a surreal moment for fans who had never heard these songs performed live.

Highlights included “Lions (Linden),” “Loretta’s Scars,” and “In the Mouth a Desert,” three tracks from 1992 with more energy than anything out today. Clearly, Malkmus enjoyed playing the early stuff; however, at certain moments, he appeared to be done. Long pauses between songs and miscommunicating with bandmates, Malkmus was not afraid to share his frustration.

Pavement’s livelihood has revolved around Malkmus’s perception of the band since the late ’90s. His stage presence at times felt reminiscent of the band’s final show during their active years in 1999. The night of Pavement’s final show in 1999, Malkmus handcuffed himself to the mic, saying, “These symbolize what it’s like being in a band.”

Before Malkmus was done for good, they played an assortment of songs from the mid-’90s. “Silence Kid” was the pinnacle of my night. The iconic opening track of their sophomore album, with Malkmus’ high-pitched scream ringing in the opening line, “Silent kid no one to remind you, You got no heel, no reels to remind you.” Like most Pavement lyrics, this doesn’t really mean anything, but that’s what Malkmus has always been about–interpretation.

The band dug into “Easily Fooled,” a B-side on the 1995 single “Rattled by la Rush.” It was the first time the song had been played since 1997, and the crowd was feral. I expected more rarities on the horizon until Malkmus strummed the first few notes of viral hit “Harness Your Hopes.” Undoubtedly a good song for most, yet not the one fans inside of Sony Hall needed to hear. 

After the song wrapped, the crowd and most of the band were ready for more; Malkmus was not. The entire night, there was no setlist–they just played what they felt like, and after “Harness,” Malkmus said, “Well, that’s the end of our career…good night!” 

He placed his guitar back on its stand, waved, and disappeared. My Dad and I shared confused glances as the rest of the band did on stage—a sudden end to the show only Malkmus had in mind. 

After five minutes of confusion about whether the show would continue, Malkmus walked back on stage, ripping into a two-song encore. They finished with “Fight This Generation,” a six-minute jam off their third album, Wowee Zowee. A very fitting song for Pavement to end the night on.

There was certainly “final show” energy on stage, or at least the last one for a long time. Malkmus’s new band, The Hard Quaret, released their debut album the same week as the show and toured the record in 2025.

Pavement embodied the slacker culture until the end. Their final show had some bizarre moments, all of which were true to the essence of Pavement. I hope to see them again, but I couldn’t be happier to have been there if that were it.

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A year later, it’s still up there as one of my favorite sets I’ve caught. My only regret is not asking Malkmus to do a session for my show, Slanted and Enchanted Radio.