Even the most die-hard Pavement fan will tell you that when Stephen Malkmus' self-titled solo album arrived in stores a few weeks ago, it didn't exactly qualify as an event. In the past few years Beck has supplanted Stephen as the smarty-pants wordsmith of college kids' choice and, besides, let's face it -- solo albums from ex-frontmen of beloved rock bands usually bite. Thankfully, Stephen Malkmus marks a glorious return to form for our hero. He sounds amused again, and so he's amusing again. He's more mischievous here than he's been in a long time, spewing off quote-worthy phrase after quote-worthy phrase (my favorite: "I felt up your feelings," from first single "Discretion Grove"), and sprinkling his songs with playground love: "Troubbble" is propelled by a toy piano, and roughly half of the songs whip themselves up into a poppy lather that even the clumsiest indie kids can dance along to. Throughout, Malkmus reconfirms his status as the funkiest white-boy ironist never to have dated Winona Ryder. Better yet, his new tracks combine esoteric musings and honest emotion in the best possible fashion. In other words, he doesn't always allow the former to overtake the actual songs.

Save "The Hook," a tale about a young man being kidnapped by Turkish pirates, the songs on Stephen Malkmus don't tell stories so much as suggest them. "Church on White," the album's prettiest tune, follows in the tradition of "Here" and "Major Leagues" in that it's seemingly heartfelt and directed at no one in particular. "Jo Jo's Jacket" is a tribute to Yul Brenner that turns into a condemnation of some unnamed piece of "monumental slime."

The rest of the songs are similarly vague and non-linear, so if you're looking for clear, dramatic narrative, stick with Eminem. Or, better yet, don't. It's all too easy to dismiss an album like this. On first listen, Stephen Malkmus is generously entertaining, pop-smart, and, truth be told, a bit samey. But with each subsequent listen a different song lodged itself in my brain. Slowly, Stephen Malkmus reveals itself to be a record chock-full of keepers. OK, so it won't save indie rock or convert any Pavement haters. And, yes, it's similar enough to a Pavement album to make it sound like it was recorded in 1994. But who cares? For a record that arrived with such low expectations, it's a pretty damn great record.