Pavement’s history of decade-long gaps between touring would make the band’s current run of 47 US and Euro dates over a two month stretch a last-chance possibility (even probability) for fans like me. 

I saw their Kansas City show at the Uptown in late September and then last night – at the Grand Rex here in Paris.  Both shows were great.  The sound was better in KC.  So was the vast space for general admission standees.  

But to see Pavement in Paris was a thrill.  I walked in with French friends off the busy Boulevard Poissonnière into the majestic movie theater just a few minutes before the band went on.

The crowd went nuts when they played Shady Lane late in the main set.  Frontman Steve Malkmus garnered amusement from his bandmates on several occasions when he modified slightly an intro – or an outro.  The band’s form and confidence is top level, likely benefitting from the accumulation of workouts these songs are getting.  Harness your Hopes is on the setlist for every show but there’s been great variety on this tour.  

A guitar tech handed Malkmus a newly-tuned instrument between each song. There was about a fifteen or twenty foot gap on the main floor between the first row of seats and a stage barrier.  That’s where people stood.  Those with seats on the main floor stood too.  And there was an unregulated clogging of the aisle by standees who wanted to improve their view.  Mostly an older crowd.  Guys my age. Or in their 40’s.  

An intoxicated woman jumped on stage during Spit on a Stranger and seemed unsure what to do with the attention she was generating.  The band ignored her, even when she advanced into Steve’s sphere.  She briefly played air guitar.  After more than 60 seconds of awkward and somewhat annoying uncertainty how her stunt would end, she grabbed one of Westie’s drum mikes to sing along, prompting security to gently apprehend her for reintroduction to her designated space in the audience.  

Even with the mapping app, I kinda got lost on the way home.  I passed on the group’s post-gig drink meetup to ensure I made the last Metro back to the hotel.  The trains clicked.  But my room is off this roundabout with no grid system in the area – and for me, a total lack of familiarity and directional orientation.  So, I walked for a half-hour searching for my hotel when it should have taken five minutes.  That’s Ok.  I don’t like being lost in the moment, but I do occasionally like being lost as a funny travel memory. 

Wednesday was a travel day.  Gent to Paris with train changes in Kortrijk and Lille.  The only small drama was the thin 12 minute transfer time in Kortrijk shortened to about five minutes because of a late start out of Gent.  If I had missed the Kortrijk to Lille train at 113 PM, I would have had to wait an hour for the next train to Lille.  The problem with that was the high-speed Lille to Paris train on my itinerary was non-changeable, non-refundable and probably a costly hassle to deal with if I’d missed the connection at Kortrijk.  

As it turns out, I frantically busted an OJ and made the connection at Kortrijk with a down and up stairs track change while toting a heavy suitcase.  

The fare from Gent to Paris was 40.2 euros with disbursement somehow split among both the Belgian and French train operators off the single transaction initiated through the SNCB web site (the National Railway Company of Belgium).  What makes it a deal is the speed on the TGV train from Lille to Paris.  That segment covers 127 miles in just an hour.  In spots, you’re hitting 200 miles per hour with the scenery going by in a blur.  

A trio of French immigration officers approached my seatmate and I somewhere after Roubaix on the slower train and asked for documents.  The woman leading the inquisition asked me if I had drugs in my suitcase.  I confidently said no.  She asked my seatmate (who appeared to have a passport from an Arabic-speaking country) what area of concentration his studies were in and he struggled with the question.  The kid asked the officer to look at the visa inserted in the passport and that seemed to satisfy her.  

The layover in Lille was about 45 minutes.  I was tempted to wander out of the station to get a quick look at the city but opted to stay close to the rails.  I ordered a ham sandwich and coffee at a station concession stand.  

From Gare de Nord, I took my fourth train of the day to reach the hotel.  The RER B to Denfert Rochereau.  The hotel is near Gare Montparnasse.  It’s owned by the Accor corporation and seems to be transitioning to a “Mercure” brand name.  There are a bunch of hotels with similar identifiers in the neighborhood.  I walked into the wrong place off my phone map’s steering but had a smooth check-in once I found where I belonged.  The room is nice.  A kettle, a fridge and some room to breathe.  The nicest by far of any hotel I’ve stayed at in Paris.

Just before going out for dinner, I put my passport and laptop in the in-room safe.  On return, I couldn’t access it.  It wouldn’t accept the code.  The front desk sent up a guy who looked like Steve Buscemi.  He changed the batteries on the front panel of the safe – and cracked the code.  All is good.    

Tomorrow night is the Pavement gig.  Claire and Lise are coming up all the way from Toulouse.