Popcorn Noises

Stephen Malkmus - “Jenny and the Ess-Dog”

Ladies and gentlemen: two thirds of a generation gap, brought to you by the tall guy from Pavement. This short, sweet, and unfailingly breezy pop tune marks a rare (especially in 2001) moment of straightforward storytelling from Malkmus, but its supply of detail and frankness of emotion make it as much an interesting read as it is a catchy song.

Let’s assume for the sake of argument that “Jenny and the Ess-Dog” takes place in ‘01, the year that Malkmus’ self-titled debut came out. The ‘Ess-Dog’ (“Shawn, if you wish”) is 31, which would put his date of birth right around 1970 and make him a textbook ‘Gen-Xer’ in both age and lifestyle. It’s funny and sorta misguided to apply generational stereotypes to invented characters (though slightly better than applying them to real people), but the song is tailored precisely to be a contrast of these ideas. The Ess-Dog plays guitar in a local cover band, drives a rickety old Volvo, keeps a frisbee close at hand, and scrapes out a living waiting tables. Whether it’s true / helpful or not, I think most everyone recognizes this vaguely-hippie, vaguely-slacker image as part of the cultural lexicon. It’s a theme in every 90s coming-of-age movie and Malkmus himself is seen as one of its figureheads. The Ess-Dog would probably say, if pressured, that he is disillusioned with social norms like professional ladder-climbing (or being called by your given name) or that growing up and starting a family, etc. simply holds no interest for him. In my mind, it’s no surprise that he’s sought out a younger companion, someone equally—albeit temporarily—nonplussed by the pressures of society.

Enter Jenny, the 18 year old recent high school grad, whose birthday some time in 1983 puts her across the traditional dividing line between Gen-X and the Millennials, to which I and, I would guess, most people reading this belong. The stereotypes about this age group are harder to articulate (for me, anyway), but I do get the sense that people see us as somewhat more ambitious and ‘traditional’ in the work-and-family sense than someone like the Ess-Dog. Luckily, the song absolves me of having to be either right or wrong about my own age group. In the first place, Malkmus’ position as a Gen-X hero undoubtedly makes it tough for him to assess this newer generation without his own cultural connotations slipping into the mix. But beyond that, I think the story places just as much emphasis on Jenny’s youth as a motivating factor. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I know that the brief period between graduating high school and going off to college came with a strange sense of placelessness, something that Jenny also seems to experience. The “Let me out of here!” breakdown in the song’s middle sounds like it’s coming from her, a young woman ready-but-not-quite-able to leave her stale hometown behind and finally figure out what she wants for her life.

Jenny’s tryst with the Ess-Dog—call it a summer fling if that helps—comes off like a pre-escape. It’s a way for her to leave her childhood behind and to indulge the ‘fantasy’ lifestyle that the Ess-Dog is supposed to represent. His being so laid-back and ‘cool’ for an adult (he’s in a band, after all) is meant to sit in direct opposition to the sorority / pre-law track that Jenny eventually chooses when she starts school. When they’re together, she wears toe rings and plays with their dog (their ‘love child’) with the idea that this free-and-easy attitude makes a kind of statement about, I dunno, simplicity or something? Malkmus calls their relationship a joining of forces, as if somewhere underneath it all there was an understanding of some larger idealogical goal. Perhaps that explains the half-hearted attempt to stay together after she moves and her priorities shift.

There are other factors to consider here, though. If you were so inclined, you could take a much more cynical view of this ‘quirky rom-com’ scenario, casting Jenny as the over-entitled rich kid who rebels against her upbringing by going slumming with the pathetic ne’er-do-well Ess-Dog, who in turn gets to live out a male fantasy of being with a barely-legal girl. You could even say that the socio-economic differences between them torpedo the relationship more than the age gap. But the freewheeling ride cymbals and guitar-peggios don’t exactly suggest a fractured reading. If anything, the brisk songwriting and abundance of hooks enforces the functional cuteness at which Trey the dog rolls his eyes. It’s tempting (and usually a good idea) never to take Malkmus at his word, but “Jenny and the Ess-Dog” could very well prove the exception, with the artist indulging a vague and problematic fantasy every bit as much as his characters. It would strip away a lot of the potential meaning and leave us with little more than a story and a shrug, but whoever said a post-high school fling had to mean something?