WHEN PAUL MCCARTNEY STATED that the Beatles would never work together again on April 10, 1970, people were moved and disappointed, as if a best friend had turned his back on them. That breakup was the first in a decade that saw the demise of several other huge rock bands who make up the core of classic rock. Led Zeppelin, Creedence Clearwater Revival, and Pink Floyd buckled under the weight of death or malicious infighting, leaving mediocre final albums in their wake. They might not have gone out on a high note, but they all exited fairly quickly and gracefully (at least as far as the public was concerned). The dirty laundry we've come to read about in the 20 years since wasn't spelled out in the press at that time, so fans felt only loss and adoration. We loved them, and we still love them.

So why is it that I'm finding it hard to feel that kind of love these days?

The explosion of music coverage in magazines and on the web since Michael first moonwalked and Madonna pulled on her fishnets has evolved to the point where no subject is out of bounds. And some bands are happy to play into it: What could keep fans more on edge than constant breakup rumors and in-fighting?

Pavement are the biggest offenders these days. In fact, they've been "breaking up" for the majority of their career. But last November, it looked like the end had finally come. The New Musical Express website (www.nme.com) reported a much publicized -- and disputed -- comment allegedly made by lead singer Stephen Malkmus during a performance at the London Brixton Academy. According to the website, Malkmus explained a pair of handcuffs hanging from his mic stand by saying, "These symbolize what it's like being in a band."

Matador, the band's label, stoked the fires by neither confirming nor denying the story in a brief post on their homepage.

On December 1, matters became even more confusing when NME quoted bandmember Scott Kannberg from an earlier SonicNet (www.sonicnet.com) article, where Kannberg claimed that what Malkmus had actually said about the cuffs was "This is what it's like playing in England." Kannberg was quoted by NME as saying the band was going to take a few years off, and the website called the split "official."

To make matters more confusing, the official Pavement website (www.pavement therockband.com) put up the following disclaimer: "Contrary to what has been said, Pavement are not breaking up. They are taking a much needed rest as they do at the end of every touring year. They would like to thank all of those who have supported them this year as in the past. They will be back sooner than you know. In the meantime, Pavement will be working on The Slow Century video and DVD compilation to be released sometime in the new century."

Hey, Pavement: Break up or speak up. We're tired of trying to find reliable information about the future of your band. I run out to the record store just like everybody else on release day, happy to get your new record, but by crying wolf so often you're tainting your legacy.

Likewise, the Smashing Pumpkins are a lightning rod for breakup rumors. After the admission that Siamese Dream was pretty much the Billy and Jimmy show, it seemed alt rock had finally found a control freak to rival Dinosaur Jr.'s J. Mascis, and it wasn't until Corgan promised to let the rest of the band play on the follow-up that it appeared the group would continue... until the drama of firing Jimmy... who rejoins triumphantly... and now we have the departure of D'Arcy.

Of course, there have been some modern-day departures that left me feeling misty. Bands who knew when to say when and did it with grace. Take Portland's Heatmiser, who made the best album of their career, Mic City Sons, for Virgin/Caroline, and then promptly disappeared. Lucky for us, Elliott Smith and Sam Coomes put out even better records thereafter. And there was Seattle's own Soundgarden, who calmly called it quits in April 1997 after the modest success of Down on the Upside. True, their commercial peak was Superunknown, but they got out of the grunge game while others (Alice in Chains, Tad) were stumbling blindly toward the end.

It's best to leave us wanting more, not sick to death of you. We expect a reunion in five years anyway, now that hell froze over for the Eagles. In the opening days of 2000 we have been given a warning sign: Camper Van Beethoven, the first major indie rock reunion. Who's next? Slint?

So Pavement, Smashing Pumpkins: You guys go ahead and break up. We dare you. You'll be back.