Pavement was the greatest band of the last 20 years. The mastermind behind Pavement was Stephen Malkmus. Sometimes, Pavement’s guitarist, Scott “Spiral Stairs” Kannberg, wrote and sang songs for Pavement. Those songs were very good. Pavement disbanded in 1999. Spiral Stairs then formed Preston School of Industry. Preston School of Industry is not the greatest band of the last 20 years.

PSOI’s latest, Monsoon, isn’t terrible, but it doesn’t latch onto my brain and lay eggs, either.

Here are two anecdotes that help to illuminate Monsoon, with their corresponding points enumerated. Both happened in Indianapolis, where I lived in 2002, during the summer after my senior year of high school.

1. About a week after graduation, PSOI played a show in Indianapolis. The city’s non-Clear Channel musical entertainment options were sparse for those of us under 21, but we got into this one, and I was thrilled to see a former member of my favorite band in person.

A year and a half later, I don’t remember what songs the band played and I don’t remember how much I enjoyed their performance.

But I do remember that, throughout their set, two drunken wags in the back of the crowd called for Spiral Stairs to play his Pavement songs — “Kennel District” and “Passat Dream,” specifically.

Spiral dismissed the interruptions politely, but near the end of his set he apologized for not playing more Pavement songs.

Point: Preston School of Industry still lurk under Pavement’s shadow, and although, as shadows go, Pavement’s is a fine one to lurk under, but this lurking tends to overwhelm the material on PSOI’s latest album.

2. About a month later, I went to a Wilco show, and PSOI opened.

Point: On Monsoon, Preston School of Industry sound like a band that would open for Wilco.

In fact, on “Get Your Crayons Out!”, the members of Wilco replace PSOI to back Spiral Stairs on a lo-fi rumble that, ironically, sounds more like Pavement and less like Wilco than anything else on the album.

I’m not knocking PSOI directly with either of these points. A band could really be pretty good sounding like Pavement and Wilco. The problem with Monsoon, however, is mediocrity — which in rock is more offensive than sucking completely (which is redemptive).

Distinguishing most of the 10 songs on Monsoon from each other is no easy task. The entire album is awash in crisp strumming, melodic guitar intros and a rhythm section that calls very little attention to itself. A little steel guitar here creates some alt-country atmosphere, a modest dose of dissonance there harkens back to the edgier Pavement days of yore.

The songs start off promisingly, remain promising and go from verse to chorus to mid-length semi-jam/extended outro, all without noticeable changes in emotion or intensity.

Spiral’s vocals are de-emphasized in the Monsoon mix, allowing the guitars to dominate. The lyrics, like many aspects of this album, are sadder, more sincere and less obtuse versions of Pavement lyrics, and Spiral sometimes sounds more Malkmus than Malkmus — hauntingly so in the “oh yeahs” barked during the opening measures of “Line it Up.” Lines like “what you eat determines what you are,” from “Tone it Down,” depend on the right delivery, but Spiral’s overly mellow drawl doesn’t do the trick.

All in all, Monsoon is a pleasant affair. You could invite this album over for dinner and it would impress your parents, observe proper table manners and mow the lawn later on for good measure. You can blast this at your family barbecues when you’re 40 and please neighbors and children alike. Monsoon is barbecue rock.

“Monsoon”: B+

Weinberg sophomore Drew Austin is a writer for PLAY. He can be reached at [email protected].