POP MUSIC : Let’s Pound the Pavement : With a mix of abrasive noise and hip tunefulness, the Stockton quintet has clicked with college radio, critics and teens around the world. But can these indie upstarts keep swerving around the potholes of the record biz?

You can call Pavement the Nirvana of art rock, but be prepared for the Stockton quintet to hate the title.

While Nirvana introduced punk to the mainstream by fusing the abrasive genre with pop, Pavement meshes catchy melodies with experimental noise for the average kid who didn’t attend art school. The group’s sweet ‘n’ sour sound hasn’t earned them millions yet, but it has made Pavement college rock’s newest superstars.

“We knew our music was good, but we didn’t think it was way up there,” says Pavement guitarist and singer Scott Kannberg, still reeling from the success of the group’s 1992 debut album, “Slanted and Enchanted.”

The album made the Top 10 of the college radio airplay charts and was adored by critics. It finished second to rap heroes Arrested Development in the Village Voice’s annual poll of the nation’s rock critics.

“That really took us for a loop. Now we all have big egos and drive big cars,” said Kannberg with a bit of sarcasm--he recently bought a used Saab with peeling paint.

Kannberg sounds about as much like a rock star as Rod Stewart does a starving artist. His boyish voice cracks occasionally, and his relaxed drawl pauses with the same kind of spacious lulls that mark Pavement’s music.

“Pavement is not a real band, it’s more for fun,” claims Kannberg, who started the project in 1988 with singer and guitarist Stephen Malkmus.

Indeed, Pavement’s members are so spread out--Kannberg in San Francisco; bassist Mark Ibold, drummer Steve West and Malkmus in New York, and second percussionist Bob Nastanovich in Kentucky--that they meet only when recording or touring.

But it’s hard to believe that the band is merely an enjoyable hobby, considering the hard work its members have put in over the last six years. Pavement has made more than 10 obscure singles and EPs, two full albums--counting its new release “Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain” (see review, Page 64)--and appeared on compilation albums while cultivating its unique sound.

The group’s fluctuating, off-key vocals, mix-and-match lyrics, sci-fi sound effects and lopsided melodies have won an avid fan base and established it as the hottest band in the “indie” world. Major record companies, sensing the second coming of such lucrative alternative market acts as Smashing Pumpkins and Nirvana, scrambled to sign the band, but to no avail.

For now, Pavement has chosen to stay with the independent New York label Matador Records, avoiding the monetary pressure that comes with a big label deal. Kannberg also feels that with Matador the band has more control over its music and can continue its unconventional approach. Besides, even without big-label benefits such as videos and mainstream radio play, Pavement’s popularity continues to increase, here and abroad.

“In Japan, it’s like Pavement is Duran Duran or something,” says Kannberg, 26. “We did this record-signing session at Tower Records in Tokyo and I’d say that three-fourths of the people that came were 16-year-old girls still dressed in their school uniforms. In the background, they were playing our compilation record, which is pretty abrasive, and the girls just sang along.”

It’s not just Japan that looks forward to the arrival of Pavement. Australia, England, Europe and America will be stops in their upcoming tour, scheduled to hit Los Angeles in mid-April.

On “Crooked Rain, due in stores on Monday, the guitars still hum like blown transformers and Malkmus’ vocals still bend into impossibly awkward positions, but a clean production replaces the old sizzling distortion, and the songs themselves are more fluid.

“The basic melodies are kind of the same,” explains Kannberg, “but there’s more to them now lyrically and musically. ‘Slanted’ was more punk-rock. This one’s more classic rock.”

But classic rock doesn’t mean Pavement is headed down the road to eternal FM radio play and duets with Sting. A career in rock ‘n’ roll is not an ultimate dream for Kannberg--in fact, it’s more like a nightmare.

“I was going to school to be an urban planner, but put it on hold to be in this band. Whenever this ends, I’m not going to end up like David Crosby. I don’t see myself going on and becoming a musician for life because I don’t find that very interesting. I like to write songs and stuff, but I don’t want to do it over 30 years of age.

“It depresses me seeing these old rockers doing it. The music they put out is so terrible. Neil Young can do it, but, like, Elton John? I saw him on TV the other day and it was so bad. And Don Henley--hideous!”

As a teen-ager, Kannberg embraced the punk, electronic and new-wave sounds of the Buzzcocks, Kraftwerk and the Cars. Devo was a big favorite before he got into such L.A. punk bands as Black Flag, X and the Circle Jerks. He later gravitated toward independent rock pioneers Husker Du and Dinosaur Jr.

He met Malkmus in high school in Stockton and they started their first band in 1985, sharing a fondness for the dramatic mood-rock of England’s Echo & the Bunnymen and the minimalist noise of L.A.’s Savage Republic.

They moved away to college, coming home on occasion to experiment with guitar feedback and synthesized noise. Eventually, the clamor became the blueprint for Pavement. In 1989, the duo spent $800 to record their first single in a garage studio owned by Gary Young, who soon joined them as Pavement’s first drummer.

The trio was picked up by the obscure Chicago label Drag City, and after several EPs and singles, Pavement was signed to Matador. Ibold and Nastanovich joined, and Pavement released “Slanted and Enchanted” in 1992. Drummer Young left last year, and Steve West took his place just in time to record “Crooked Rain.”

Though influences on the new album range from lounge-lizard suave to weepy country to coarse punk, Pavement’s imperfect execution bonds the disparate genres into a cohesive sound. The continuity didn’t come easy. The album’s 13 songs were selected from 35 the group recorded. Some of the leftover tunes will appear on singles and EPs.

“There was a different feel recording this time around,” says Kannberg. “It seemed easier before because we did it in Stockton and it was real comfortable just to drive from our houses, and 10 minutes away was Gary’s studio. There were no time constraints.

“We’d go in the studio and whatever came about came about. We never cared if there was too much feedback on a song. This time, we had deadlines and we actually wanted it to sound better than our other records. We like the other records, but we can see the flaws and it bothers us.”

Not that it’s likely to become a perfectionist band. Pavement, its roots in the do-it-yourself spirit and raw approach of the punk era, has happily scraped along on no money, practicing in living rooms and recording in garages.

It’s a lifestyle and ethic that Kannberg still holds dear.

“Hundreds of thousands of dollars are spent in the studio on the majority of music these days, and you can make a good record for a tenth of that. The music industry has gotten so sick. For instance, we never wanted to do videos, but we decided to do one ‘cause it might be kind of fun, maybe. They were saying we’d have to spend about $100,000 for it to be MTV material. We were like, ‘Give us a break!’ So we ended up compromising and spent $15,000, which was still too much, in my opinion. It’s not finished yet, but hopefully it will come out all right. I’m kind of scared.”

There’s reason for Kannberg to be scared. It’s hard to imagine a video that could do justice to match Kannberg’s and Malkmus’ lyrics--mismatched words that bounce off one another like mad poetry. “Sleep with electric guitars / Range roving with cinema stars / I wouldn’t want to shake their hands / ‘Cause they’re in such high protein land,” sings Malkmus on the new album. On “Slanted and Enchanted’s” “Trigger Cut,” he deadpans, “Lies and betrayals / fruit-covered nails / Electricity.”

Says Kannberg, “I like not really knowing what the lyrics are about. You can interpret them however you want. If we used basic words that were thrown out every day, it wouldn’t be as good as it is. The lyrics are less obvious than what the Stone Temple Pilots might sing to you.”

Kannberg is unhappy that Pavement gets lumped with such dissimilar bands as those grunge-rockers under the umbrella term “alternative rock.” But he’s not about to begrudge the high-profile San Diego band or its MTV peers their hard-won fame, because Pavement’s aims were different from the start.

“Our original intention was to go into the studio and just fool around with weird synthesizer noises and tunings,” he says. “Not a lot has changed. But then again, I guess it has.”