The shorthand take on Rotary Downs is that they sound like Pavement, so to test that reference I re-listened to Pavement’s Slanted and Enchanted and Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain before making final comments on Rotary Downs’ Chained to the Chariot. Besides reminding me that those are two of the great albums of the 1990s, what the experience told me is that Rotary Downs doesn’t really sound that much like Pavement. More accurately, they sound like what we remember Pavement sounding like. Chained to the Chariot is more lyrical and has some genuinely lovely passages.

James Marler does have some of Stephen Malkmus’ deadpan in his voice, but Malkmus could act out while the persistent, mannered reserve in Marler’s voice—and in the band, really—marks Rotary Downs as different and cooler. On one hand, it makes the band seem to be in a world of its own, removed from this one, but it also sounds like a band fascinated by everything in their world, particularly their music. A guitar line that suggests one rhythm is joined by an unexpected disco high hat and snare drum pattern that isn’t obvious, but works with the line. A guitar part that seems primarily rhythmic becomes melodic when joined by a keyboard or played next to a pedal steel. At the same time, the songs are fundamentally traditional, almost Californian, even when Chris Columbo’s guitar is chopping out a Velvet Underground-like staccato rhythm.

Naysayers might argue that there’s a lack of emotion in Chained to the Chariot, but me, I’d trade a lot of easy, fake emotions for something this smart, elliptical and crafted. Pavement references might be harder to avoid, but Pavement looms over indie rock the way the Beatles and Stones loom over pop and rock ’n’ roll. You hear Pavement in many indie bands and in the anti-star, anti-machismo aesthetic. Missing Rotary Downs and Chained to the Chariot for that reason means missing a good record for a sad reason.