Sometime in the late ’90s, the indie rock world suffered a tremendous blow: Pavement, considered an archetype for the movement, went “on hiatus.” In the wake of this apparent disaster, frontman Stephen Malkmus approached execs at Matador Records with an idea for a new band called the Jicks. They bit, the story goes, but insisted that the singer’s name be featured prominently on any new releases, cannily realizing that his vocal idiosyncrasies and unmistakable charisma had been a huge part of Pavement’s appeal. Since then, Malkmus has quietly continued to release groundbreaking music, whether as “solo” projects or with the Jicks. Real Emotional Trash is the band’s latest offering, and it may be the best work they’ve ever done.

Start to finish, this is an album that challenges listeners. Although Malkmus’s talent for writing catchy pop songs never fully recedes, it is frequently overshadowed by his willingness to allow a tune to wander. The immediate result is that several tracks push the seven-minute mark, with more than a few segments devoted to free-form jams that threaten to unhinge the album. That said, the stoic percussion of rookie Jick Janet Weiss (formerly of Sleater Kinney) keeps these solos from degenerating into anything that could be called “noodling.” As was the case for “1% of One,” the sprawling centrepiece of 2003’s Pig Lib, fans that are willing to indulge these meandering moments are always rewarded with huge breakdowns.

While the lengthy epics are the easiest point of the album to criticize, it’s the tiny details that make them work. The title track is a multi-part adventure that starts out as a slow burner before disintegrating into a face-melting guitar jam in which Malkmus’s guitar sounds more sludgy than ever. As the tune romps towards an intense climax, a second guitar kicks in with a bright, sustained note that transitions to a southern-fried jam that wouldn’t sound out of place at an Allman Brothers show. Many of the other small moments of perfection come from Mike Clark, whose work on the keys is nothing short of stellar. The Hammond groove on “Out of Reaches” takes the song from good to great, and the CAKE-like synth line on “Cold Son” infuses a much-needed quirk.

In an apparent attempt at mitigating the impact of the album’s two-month-early Internet leak, Matador offered several goodies with pre-ordered copies of the album, including a live set, some behind-the-scenes videos of a creepily moustached, typically self-deprecating Malkmus, and two B-sides. Amusingly, both songs are pop gems that are more straightforward than anything that made it onto the album. Maybe if they hadn’t been cut, Malkmus would have been spared some of the “becoming a jam-band” flack. Then again, maybe that’s just how he wanted it. He’s trashy that way.