Pop Zeus:
The Completerist Guided by Voices Project
Robert Pollard generates more material than any sane person can absorb.
—Paste Magazine
After years of only listening to Human Amusements at Hourly Rates (informally known as The Best of GBV), I went to see a Guided By Voices show at Space in Evanston, and was blown away. I had ridden my bike 100 miles in August heat to get to the show, but as soon as the first notes sounded, I pogoed and danced wildly, matching the unflagging energy of the band. Even the songs I didn’t recognize immediately drew me in; the hallmark of a GBV song is its immediate accessibility. Unlike a lot of pop music, the charm of a GBV song is often revealed on the first listen, becoming even more irresistible with each play. And this despite the GBV corpus being so large the records can barely be counted, let alone the songs. (Not to mention Pollard’s enumerable solo albums, or the songs he records under different band names such as Boston Spaceships—six full albums as this band alone—Cash Rivers, Keene Brothers, Moping Swans, Lifeguards, Circus Devils, and there’s like dozens more.) Pollard is aware his prodigiousness is part of the appeal. From the stage that night in Evanston, Pollard excoriated bands, Weezer in particular, for not releasing much new material, he suspected because they worried it wouldn’t be as good their older stuff, which to his mind was a cop-out. Pollard said his policy it to have faith in the material and just put everything out no matter what because you never know what will stick. Then he said, “Of course all of my stuff turns out to be pretty good anyway.”
Lets get the quality question out of the way: most of Pollard’s stuff is really, really good. He sings like a brit and GBV songs are deliberately muddy and clipped, often sounding like they’re from the 1960s British invasion, though Pollard was born in raised in Dayton, Ohio, where he still lives to this day. Paste Magazine lists Robert Pollard as the 73rd Best Living songwriter, right between Stephem Malkmus (72) and Bruce Cockburn (74). (Qualifying note: other living songwriters on the list include Michael Jackson (71) and “Pink Floyd (70),” one dead and one not a person, so I’m not sure how reliable this list is.)
Pollard is an affable rock star, although, like his corpus, somewhat prickly and intimidating. At one point during that concert in Evanston, he announced that because Wendy’s was selling Frosties for 75 cents, he had thought about buying one for everyone at the show. He figured there was about 150 of us and so it wouldn’t be too expensive, and he had even tried to figure out how to get Wendy’s to deliver the Frosties before remembering that he was actually “an asshole,” and just dropped it.
Pollard is as generous with the chatter as he with the hooks. His concerts are filled with musings on the music of other bands, (usually accompanied by a good natured insult i.g., “We’re better than Hootie and the Dipshits…”) the beer he’s drinking, the town he’s playing in, always referring to his audience as “kids,” despite the crowds having aged noticeably along with the band. That night in Evanston, Pollard said he had 100 new songs coming out the following year, over three albums, and even he seemed chagrined by the volume. (Volume meaning amount, not decibels, though that was also impressive.)
To see if that was true, I decided to try and wrestle with the beast, to come to terms with the complete GBV slash Robert Pollard oeuvre, to listen to every recording, every song, every solo piece Pollard wrote. It’s hard to imagine Pollard has had a musical notion he hasn’t recorded and released on some album somewhere. Discography, meet Completerist.
I enlisted a coterie of listeners to double-check my work, dividing the workload by corpus. For OG GBV I obviously needed an Associate Professor of Anthropology specializing in world languages and cultures. For that reason, I chose Dr Michael Strezewski of the University of Southern Indiana, who had heard of Guided by Voices, but had never heard Guided by Voices. He would listen with fresh ears, professorial good looks, and a Ned Flandersesque mustache.
Here now, is what we heard. Every Guiuded By Voices album, in no particular order. Actually there is a particualr order, but it isn’t chronological. Working on getting more listeners for the solo and side projects. Stay tuned.
Quick GBV album Links
Dr. S
For my first assignment, Dan has instructed me to listen to Alien Lanes from 1995. From the first track, you can hear a lo-fi thing going on there, which I can definitely appreciate. I’m not a fan of overproduced music in general. The “made it in my basement” sound makes the tracks seem raw and more powerful. As far as influences are concerned, I can totally hear a mid ‘60s British sound in spots (e.g., Watch Me Jumpstart, As We Go Up, We Go Down, Game of Pricks). Even a Beatles-like sound peeking through here and there. (e.g., Chicken Blows) – though I know Dan will pooh-pooh that, since he always gave me a hard time about the Beatles, which, for some reason, he always shit on. Dumbcharger, Little Whirl, and a few other songs sound a fair amount like Wire or Mission of Burma without being derivative. I’m also getting a Syd Barrett vibe in spots (e.g., King and Caroline) and maybe an amped-up Billy Bragg.
Overall, there are lots of great hooky moments on this album. I was always partial to catchy hooks, so I’m totally on board with that. You gotta love that repeated weird-ass grunting noise in Ex-Supermodel. The song is fantastic – it takes some nerve to lay over goofy noise over the whole thing. I like that many of the songs are segued one into another – the album just keeps coming at you, one short track after another.
Overflowing with great songs (28 of ‘em!) and song snippets in only 41 minutes. I’m surprised that nearly all the songs are all under 2 minutes, as most or all of these could have easily been turned into “full length” 3 or 3 ½ minute songs without padding them. There’s at least three albums worth of material here. Basically, it feels like you’re often getting snippets of thoughts and melodies. Perhaps my only criticism is that you really want many of these to be wholly fashioned songs instead of ending so damn quickly, especially some of the ones that run under 30 seconds. It makes you wonder why Pollard chose to record and release 30-second song ideas that had tons of potential to be something bigger – maybe there’s something intentional there but I can’t get into the guy’s mind. I’ll definitely revisit this album in the future – a super enjoyable listen. No duds.
Alien Lanes 1995
28 songs, 41 minutes
Libbers:
One of my favorites, has some of the best and some of the worst. From Hourly Rates: Salty Salute, Watch Me Jumpstart, Motor Away, Hit (which I don’t like at all, uses a word that hasn’t aged well, but at 22 seconds long it’s so short it’s easy to grit your teeth through, plus it sets up the next song, which I love:) My Valuable Hunting Knife. New to me: As We Go Up We Go Down. Closer You Are, I am including Game of Pricks in this section though there is a much more slick, more produced and pop-sounding version of it on the “best of album,” I prefer this stripped down version. It’s faster, murkier, and more raw. Lowlights: Always Crush Me, Big Chief Chinese Restaurant which is bad but quick and perhaps the relief of it being over so quickly is part of why Closer You Are feels like a better song than it is.) Ex-Supermodel (sounds like someone is snoring over it—very annoying. One of the GBV sound experiments which goes awry.)
Dr. S
Ok – to start off this entry, I’ll note that on the last review, I mentioned that I was getting a Mission of Burma and Wire vibe from Alien Lanes. A couple of days ago, I re-listened to it and after the album had ended, Spotify started playing “similar artists” and the first couple to be played were Mission of Burma and Wire. I’m taking that as a sign that I wasn’t too far off on my previous comments. Who am I to argue with a major corporation?
Now on to Bee Thousand. I’ll preface my comments by saying that I understand that this is one of GBV’s best loved albums so perhaps I’m not 100 percent unbiased in this listening. The album starts out with an intentionally shitty edit and lo-fi sound, with instruments dropping in and out, so it looks like we’re in for the homemade feel of Alien Lanes. Again – not an issue for me as I like rough sounding production. The sound is overall a bit thinner than Alien Lanes. I’d prefer a more punch with a heavier bass and drums instead of a tinny distorted guitar in the foreground, which seems to be the case with most of the tracks here.
I think the real standout track on this album is Buzzards and Dreadful Crows – it’s crunchy sounding, really catchy, and pushes all the buttons for me. Echos Myron is also a great song – very British Invasion sounding. It reminds me of some of the lighter mid ‘60s British stuff, like Herman’s Hermits. Not joking. Her Psychology Today really moves and has a heavy, jerky early ‘80s post-punk sound that I like. Kicker of Elves is a nice, almost folky sounding song, though I do not approve of violence toward elves. That having been said, I do think there are a fair number of less-than-stellar songs on this one. Goldheart Mountaintop Queen Directory, for example, is a bit of a wandering clunker. Hot Freaks and A Big Fan of the Pigpen are also pretty forgettable.
Perhaps I’ll get eviscerated by long-time GBV voices fans, but I didn’t enjoy this album as much as Alien Lanes. The songs weren’t bursting with energy as much as the previous album and the production was a bit too tinny sounding for my taste. I like an album that has more punch. Perhaps it’ll grow on me with additional listens. I suppose I don’t have much perspective at this point, so I’m willing to consider the possibility that my impressions could change considerably in the future, after I have more songs and albums under my belt. Maybe I’m just in a crappy mood, who knows?
Bee Thousand 1994
20 songs, 37 minutes
Libbers:
Starts out the way my cassettes all began in the 1980s, with a little audio flashback of whatever it was I recorded the new album over, and then Hardcore UFO begins, a pretty good, rip snorting GBV tune, not too driving but present, and at about the half way point the tone changes, like the tape has interfaced on your crappy machine, later the guitar drops out and you can only hear the echoes on other tracks before reappearing again for no reason, not any beat, not for any reason. It’s as close to a musical ethos for GBV as I can think of.
The next song is Buzzards and Dreadful Crows and then Tractor Rape Chain, the first of Bee Thousands four songs to make it onto Human Amusement, at which point it’s fair to ask, is every song on this album some kind of timeless starburst or does it just seem like it. The other Human Amusement songs include: Hot Freaks, Echos Myron, and I am a Scientist. Esther’s Day starts with one of the annoying songs but then changes to a sweeter, clearer tune. Because I am not writing this in real time, unlike Dr S I had heard a LOT of GBV for starting this project, I already know that one of the annoying tunes is one of the songs from King Shit, one of my favorite Pollard experiments.
Other fantastic ditties on Bee Thousand: Smothered In Hugs, Gold Star for Robot Boy, A Big Fan of the Pigpen, Peep-Hole
Note as I revisit: As I listen to the Suitcase albums I keep hearing parts of Tractor Rape Chain. Also, Buzzards and Dreadful Crows never meant much to me until I heard it live, now when I pops up on Bee Thousand I feel like it an old friend has come to visit. Take note Dr S, you too are an old friend and if wasn’t for WWII reenactments near my home I would never hear from you.
Dr S.
Before I get started, I wanted to note that I’ve listened to Alien Lanes a few times since I reviewed it and I’m really liking the album. I don’t know if this applies to Libbers, but I have music running through my head ALL THE TIME (e.g., while getting up in the middle of the night to pee), and some of those waking hours have been devoted to Alien Lanes tracks. I’m gonna take that as support for my initial impression that this is an excellent album.
Now on to Space Gun. This is my first taste of a post-2000 GBV album, so I suppose I’m expecting a different sound here, given that most artists evolve over time. Most of the time this evolution isn’t for the better, in my humble opinion, as I’ve seen a lot of bands go down the tubes as their career progresses (I’m talking to you, Crosby, Stills, and Nash)1. Those perhaps are my expectations going into this one, so I hope I’m wrong…
I see we’ve got 15 tracks here in 39 minutes. Wow, it looks like nearly every one is at least a minute and a half, which is a departure from the song snippet approach I’d seen previously. The title track is over 4 minutes, fer chrissakes. Looks like he’s giving Yes a run for their money. After having a go, I can see that the sound is obviously more polished and produced than the ‘90s material I’ve listened to so far. Space Gun is a pretty decent song, as are the next two – much more conventional songwriting. I can’t say any of those are really knocking it out of the ballpark though. I suppose I prefer more distortion and crunch, like the previous two albums I’d heard.
After completing the album, I’m not seeing the obvious ‘60s or post-punk influences on Space Gun. It looks like GBV has more of its own voice now, without leaning as much on what’s come previously. I don’t see that as being either good or bad, just an observation. With regard to specific tracks, there are a number that stand out for me. See My Field and Daily Get Ups are good, upbeat songs. I’d definitely return to these tracks. Sport Component National is the most interesting song on the album. It’s one of those multi-part songs that I’m starting to notice as I’ve got more GBV under my belt. The individual pieces don’t seem to go together at all, but each of the segments is interesting. A 2:48 mini rock opera? It’s perhaps the “A Quick One While He’s Away” of the album. Grey Spat Matters is more of the straightforward, distorted guitar-type music that I’m a fan of.
There really aren’t too many tracks that I didn’t like here. Liar’s Box is meandering and feels half-baked, while Hudson Rake is a bit plodding. Overall, however, I’d call this one a solid effort without any klunkers. At the same time, there are only a few tracks that stand out as being super memorable. One thing that’s a bit frustrating is the fact that a number of the songs seem to change mood midstream. It’s jarring when you’re getting into the vibe of a song and then it changes gears out of nowhere. Flight Advantage is a good example of this. The song starts out with some jerky, goofy chords, ala early ‘80s, and then moves to something more conventional sounding. Didn’t really work for me. Hey, it’s not like I’m punching holes in the wall or anything, but…
1 This reference was put here to irritate Dan.
Space Gun 2018
15 songs, 39 minutes
Libbers:
This is the first post Human Amusements album I listened to and it’s a great one. I was dubious that GBV could be good still this far after the heyday, the golden age of GBV, but the eponymous first track sounds the clarion call: awesome is still on the docket. It has that first listen irresistibility in the DNA that all the best of GBV has. Standouts: Space Gun, Daily Get Ups, Colonel Paper, I Love Kangaroos.
By the way Mike, you footnote did not irritate me at all except that it’s hard to format a footnote here on the ol’ SquareSpace template. I had to cheat and change font size and I never could get the 1 to hang in the right place. I lost a night’s sleep over it.
Libbers:
Starts with a happy little heart-lifter called Xeno Pariah, slips into a darker, throbbier GBV mode called Know Me as Heavy. Both songs are great. Xeno Pariah may be the “last” GBV song I really, really love until 2018’s Space Gun. Sudden death of Epstien’s Ways a weird, plodding song which seems to keep slowing down on the chorus “Jesus... Jesus.” Several songs seems to discuss, “friction in Japan,” Nobel Insect and the unfinished sounding, Reflections in a Metal Whistle,” which seems to complete itself halfway through. Or at first we get the demo version, then at the midway point we get what the guitar part would sound like, clean and full, if it were done. Island (She Talks to Rainbows) is quite nice. Although Noble Insect with it’s refrain about friction in Japan is kind of annoying. Biography Seahorse irritating, followed by Flunky Minnows which is wonderful. Taciturn Caves is also a song I love. Crybaby Hotel may be the only rock song to namecheck Zero Mostel, (you can see once Pollard had the title of the song, how that rhyme might just write itself.) This album is great, but has some real stinkers on it too, what Mike calls “turds,” but I am not nearly so crass. Oh, and hey Mike, you can turn all the editorial shit off in Word. I insist my students do that.
Dr. S:
Another preface before I get started. I just wanted our humble reader to know that I have tried to come into this project with completely “virgin ears.” I have read only minimal background information on GBV or Robert Pollard, so I’m totally in the dark when listening. The idea here is that I’m approaching each album with few biases with regard to what other folks think about it, the individual tracks, and the band as a whole.
Before jumping into English Little League, I noticed that the individual tracks don’t have a lot of listens on Spotify. Xeno Pariah, the lead track, has the most (45,300), while the least listened track is A Burning Glass, with 12,307. Hope I don’t read too much into that. Ok, here it goes…
The album starts off with three good songs (Xeno Pariah, Know Me as Heavy, and Island) so I’m hoping the momentum is kept up. Island (She Talks in Rainbows) has a definite psychedelic sound. You can hear a strong Byrds vibe here (another band that Dan always poo-pooed). Trash Can Full of Nails has some weird chord progressions (not a bad thing in itself) but I’m not sure that it exactly works. This is the first track on the album that I’m not too excited about. Send to Celeste is pretty damn good. I swear this song reminds me of Syd Barrett. I know I’d mentioned this in previous comments, and I have absolutely no idea if Robert Pollard considers Syd Barrett as an influence or not but the slightly laggy vocals and the odd chord progressions of this song are in a similar vein.
After this point, the album is pretty hit-and-miss. There are a few good, catchy songs (e.g., Noble Insect, Flunky Minnows, With Glass in Foot). I also liked The Sudden Death of Epstein’s Ways, which sounds a helluva lot like the Beatles. I’m wondering if the “Epstein” referenced in the song is Brian Epstein. Otherwise, most of the songs in the latter two-thirds of English Little League are either of average quality or just flat out “eh.” I certainly appreciate Pollard’s prolific songwriting and the fact that he can generate dozens of songs a year is admirable. After listening to English Little League, however, I just wish that he’d put a bit of a filter on what gets released. There are a few big turds on this album that shouldn’t have seen the light of day. Although I like the title of the song, Sir Garlic Breath isn’t much of anything, while Biographer Seahorse plods along aimlessly. Reflections in a Metal Whistle and A Burning Glass amount to nothing more than just piddling around on the piano. I just wonder if Pollard wants to keep up the crazy album release pace he’s known for at all costs.
(Footnote – Microsoft Word just reminded me that the word “turd” may be offensive to the reader. If so, please skip over the offending term in the previous paragraph with my sincere apologies).
English Little League
2013; 17 songs, 46 minutes
Dr S:
Hello folks – I’m back again with more hard-hitting GBV observations. This time I’ve been tasked by Mr. Libbers to listen to Do the Collapse from 1999. My son keeps stealing my Spotify mid-listen, so I hope that I can get it in uninterrupted. I told him I’m working on some important shit here and he’s promised to let me finish.
Wow – there are strings and synth sprinkled in on various tracks! That’s a new one. For the most part, it works well, as the material behind it is really good. Teenage FBI, Things I Will Keep, Surgical Focus, Optical Hopscotch, and Much Better Mr. Buckles are all damn good songs.
Now, the elephant in the room – Hold on Hope. I notice that this song has a LOT more listens than anything else on the album (6.3 million!). It’s very mainstream sounding so I’m not entirely surprised. The song sounds like it should be on a movie soundtrack. I’m also picturing it being played as some kind of sappy “inspirational” song at a high school graduation event. Don’t get me wrong - it’s a pleasant enough song but not anything that I’d give repeated listens to. Kind of like Good Riddance (aka Time of Your Life) by Green Day, which blows. (Whew - good to see we’re back to normal “62,000 listens” GBV with the next track, In Stitches).
My general impression is that there really aren’t any bad songs on the entire album. Zoo Pie is perhaps a bit meandering but I liked it nonetheless. It has those über-distorted vocals that sound like they’re sung through a tissue paper-covered comb or someone screaming through a bullhorn. I guess this kind of thing was big for a while.
In sum – this is a good, solid album with very few songs that I did not really enjoy. I don’t know what was going through Pollard’s head at this point, but I can hear he’s flirting with mainstream sound and production, with distinctly less weirdness. There’s a huge change in four years from the 1995 “lo-fi slapped-together” sound that was Alien Lanes. Makes you wonder if the fans who were listening to the albums as they came out were afraid this might be a sign of “mainstream creep” that has ruined many bands. The GBV sound is still here but it has morphed into something palatable for many more ears. That having been said, I will definitely give this one repeated listens in the future (just skipping over Hold on Hope). The album is perhaps not as up-my-alley as Alien Lanes, which remains my favorite album up to this point, but it’s pretty damn good.
Do the Collapse
1999; 16 songs, 44 minutes
Libbers:
Starts with Teenage FBI, one of the Human Amusements songs—one of the better ones. But stay a moment, what am I hearing? Some weird disco beat and a background synth pop music. This isn’t the song I love! Yes it is. It’s still a god damn great tune, but not half as good as the stripped-down version.
So let’s address the elephant in the room, (a phrase Dr S also used, completely independent of my usage—who needs a PhD to sound brainy!) This album was produced by Cars lead schlockmiester and bafflingly effective hot model marryer, Ric Ocasak. This explains not just the greasy prodcution on FBI, but also the existence of Hold on Hope, which I understand is something of a flashpoint in the GBV community. So let me just say it plain, I am pro Hold on Hope. I like it, full on cheesy lyrics and all.
What else we got? Some song, and then hello, coded ancient decree... Another familiar foot stomper, Things That I Will Keep, and this time it’s even a familiar version of a long standing favorite. Surgical Focus comes in eventually. A song called In Stitches which isn’t a great song but does have the lyric, “Human Amusents at Hourly Rates,” so somehow feels signficant.
This feels like their most open, optimistic, album, filled with “heart lifters.” A ton of these songs made it to my GBV Gems playlist. (Look for it on Spotify—or Spoterfy, if you’re Sling Blade.)
Under the Bushes Under the Stars
1996, 24 songs, 56 minutes
Dr S:
Now that I have finished with six GBV albums, I’m really starting to appreciate Pollard’s unique songwriting style. Many of the tracks rarely go where you think they’re going to go. You’ll hear a bit of a song with an expectation that the melody and chords will take a certain path and then – blammo – it veers off somewhere else. I find the surprise refreshing, if not a bit jarring once in a while. The approach can be hit and miss, however; at best, the song demands your interest and holds together in the end, while other times it’s just a jumble of pieces that ramble here and there and don’t make up a coherent whole. Regardless, my jaded old man ears appreciate hearing something unexpected.
I think I’m getting too philosophical here, so now on to Under the Bushes Under the Stars (not seeing any comma there in the album title, by the way, which further upsets me). The overall sound is straight up rock, which I can get behind. So far, so good. My first impressions are that the album isn’t really catching my ear. The songs are decent, mind you – I’m just not getting too many moments that are capturing my interest. Maybe I need some coffee. The Official Ironman Rally Song is the track with the most listens on Spotify. I can see why, as it’s friendly to the ears and follows a more mainstream song formula that’s not typical of GBV. Can’t say I’m a huge fan of that one.
As we’re moving along, however, I’m liking the album more. Acorns & Orioles is an example of the unexpected up/down, left/right melodies that I was referring to above. In this case it all holds together and makes for an enjoyable listen. Look at Them, which segues into The Perfect Life, is also a cool, bare-bones song. Love the droning note in the background. After that, I’m liking just about every track.
Overall, I’d call Under the Bushes a solid effort. I also have a hunch that this is an album that might grow on me with repeated listens. Is it possible to give an album a completely fair shake with only a couple of listens? Probably not, but how much time do I want to devote to this damned thing?
Libbers:
Solid album, all songs great first listens and sustain. Begins the way all of the best GBVs do, as though you have been plunked down in some studio apartment with marginal audio equipment of a person already listening to a GBV album. The first notes sound like we’re halfway through a great album. Several songs from Hourly Rates: Cut-Out Witch, The Official Ironmen Rally Song, To Remake the Young Flyer. Lots of entry points. This was my favorite GBV album for a long time after the week I lived with it and I found myself going back when listening to other albums. New highlights: Atom Eyes, Office of Hearts, Big Boring Wedding, Underwater Explosions, It’s Like Soul Man, Drag Days, Sheetkickers. Everything sticks on this album, while some tunes aren’t as memorable as others, nothing misses outright. Don’t Stop Now seed planted in King Shit. Achingly beautiful song about manliness and roosters and....regret maybe? Several songs begin and end with the same buzzing note, making the tunes like a string of pearls. In a private text thread, Dr S told me this album was produced by my spirit animal, sui generis godhead, Kim Deal. That makes perfect sense. Listen to Pollard and Deal sing Love Hurts and you can understand possibly the animating energy behind the songs. Here is a treat for you, Pollard singing Sensational Gravity Boy under the name Freedom Cruise, with some achingly gorgeous Kim Deal backing vocals. The best two minutes your ears will have today.
Dr S:
There’s nothing sadder in the music world than a band that hasn’t put out anything original in decades and tours endlessly with a dwindling cast of “original members,” until they’re basically a cover band rehashing the same tired tunes over and over again. A lot of bands seem to end up this way once the creative juices and energy dry up. Given this, you absolutely gotta respect songwriters/bands that keep putting out material, drawing from a seemingly endless well of creativity for decades on end. I’m thinking of Cheap Trick and Rush, for example. (Yes Dan, I referenced Rush in one of my reviews. Had to get that in there.) That having been said, not all albums are going to hit their mark. Tremblers and Goggles by Rank is one of those albums. It isn’t awful by any stretch of the imagination, but it sputters along without a great deal of excitement for the listener. I mentioned in my last review that GBV songs – at their best – are able to take a bunch of seemingly disjointed bits and pieces and meld them together into a really interesting listen, while at other times, the songs just flit from one section to another with little sense where they want to end up. I think we’re getting more of the latter on this album.
Lizard on the Red Brick Wall starts out the album. It’s a pretty heavy song which certainly helps get my attention, but when you give the song a close listen, there really isn’t a heck of a lot there. There’s a lot of production and guitar phasing thrown on it to make it sound like it’s more than it is. The next song, Alex Bell, starts out pretty good and turns into one of the multi-part “mini-opera” songs that seem to pop up fairly often in the GBV catalog. This one is a five-minute piece consisting of about four distinctly different bits strung together. A couple of the sections are fairly catchy, while others don’t do much for me.
Both Unproductive Funk and Roosevelt’s Marching Band seem to ramble around quite a bit and feel like they could use some polishing to get them tighter.
Goggles by Rank – This is the first song on the album that gets my attention. A good straight up rock song that reminds me of The Who. Ditto with Focus on the Flock – a decent rocker with some Who-like bits in it. Who Wants to Go Hunting? is another pretty good song. Not something that I’d return to, however, since there are a lot better GBV songs that I’ve run across over the seven albums I’ve listened to so far.
Given the insane creative output by GBV/Pollard, I can’t expect every album or song to knock my socks off, so it’s not like I’m flipping tables after listening to Tremblers and Goggles by Rank. I’ll just say that I probably won’t return to this one. I know that Pollard can still put out great stuff (e.g., Space Gun from 2018) so maybe this is just a bit of a creative blip.
Tremblers and Goggles by Rank
2022; 10 songs, 38 minutes
Libbers:
Funny story. This is our fifth or sixth album for this project, (seventh, it turns out) but the first album I had not heard prior. Mike wants to hop around eras and hop we have, and for this one we thought to go to the most recent album, so fresh you can smell the record store cellophane. Goggles and Tremblers, I texted in the morning. But by the afternoon there was a newer album: Scalping the Guru. Had we missed it or had Pollard released a new album between breakfast and dinner? (Either was possible—our intern Wayne is notoriously shaky with details and if you search “pollard” and “prolific” there are s0 many hits google just basically gives up.) Guru turned out to a collection of B-sides and alternate takes, (and terrific, I listened anyway and have gone back several times) we decided to stick with the latest release of new songs.
Tremblers. Starts strong. Lizard on a Brick Wall and Alex Bell sound like solid winter-era GBV, Alex Bell in particular would be at home on a Boston Spaceships album, veering toward the expansive choruses and finally getting to that heart-lifting GBV conclusion with a nice Pollard lyric, “I see you around every time there’s a ghost in town.” Late era Pollard trusts his lyric writing abilities more than younger Pollard did. Unproductive Funk a nice title and a nice little idyl. Some of the songs sound aimless, Who Wants to go Hunting? comes to mind, although it is the only song I am aware running through my head when I am not listening to the album. Mike referenced The Who’s Quick One in another review, and while I had never thought about it before, he’s obviously right. The Who profoundly influenced GBV (Listen to Pollard covering Baba O’Reilly on yoootube, it’ll make your lanugo stand on end) and that rococo operatic structure is evident here. In true Pollard fashion, the song entirely fades away just as it is about to get both majestic and maybe self indulgent. Fine; there’s already a new album to listen to.
Vampire on Titus
1993, 18 songs, 31 minutes
Dr S:
For this week I’m going to the opposite end of the GBV discography – Vampire on Titus from 1993. Apparently, this is their sixth album, so it’s not at the very beginning but it’s the earliest one I’ve listened to so far. Eighteen songs in less than 31 minutes. Seems like GBV is gonna get right to the point and isn’t going to waste our time here.
My first impression is that the album is pretty damn raw sounding. The sound is muddy with lots of tape hiss in the background. The microphone sounds like something stolen from the grade school talent show. The guitars are out of tune. Do I like it? Absolutely. I suppose I welcome the sound of someone who’s working outside of mainstream and knows the songs can stand on their own without lots of polish. Sure, I can appreciate über-produced stuff like ELO too, but my tastes ultimately wind up with raw sounding music over and over again. I have no idea if Pollard knew of Index’s “Black Label Album” from 1967, but Vampire on Titus has a similar vibe. I fucking love the Black Label Album and it’s a mess in terms of the production and musicianship.
My only issue with the production on Vampire on Titus is that the vocals are often buried way in the background. Many of the melodies are damn good and deserved a bit more attention. Two examples are Dusted and Expecting Brainchild, both of which are great songs. One final observation regarding the production and then I’ll shut up about it – Vampire on Titus is a lot more primitive sounding than Bee Thousand from the following year. Not sure what happened in between these two albums but there seems to have been a decision to make the next album a bit more professional sounding. This seems to be an overall trend with GBV, though none of the albums are over-polished (with the possible exception of Do the Collapse from 1999).
Now on to the actual songs on the damn album. Most of the tracks are strong and a few (e.g., Jar of Cardinals and Gleemer) hint at the British Invasion-influenced stuff that we’d hear in greater abundance a bit later on. E-5 is absolutely bare bones but is a really great song. Both Cool Off Kid Kilowatt and Donkey School have weird noises laid over them. You hear a similar thing on Ex Supermodel from Alien Lanes. I have no idea why, but I really dig this. As a whole, most tracks on Vampire on Titus are pretty damn good but I’m not hearing any ridiculously catchy songs. My overall impression is that Pollard is just getting to the point where he’s hitting his stride. This is a strong album, but I can certainly see how most ears would find the raw sound distracting. GBV obviously isn’t writing to please 13-year-olds here, but those who want something friendly already have enough bullshit music to listen to.
Libbers
I wanted to dig deeper in the archeological dig-pit that is GBV for the next album, sort of hedging my bets against Mike’s boredom. V on T has more songs in fewer minutes than yer regular rock music fare. And the tunes are a bit darker than most GBV.. Vampire is recognizably GBV in fuzz and energy but downbeat and sort of dark. Gleemer is a fun song and almost a break in the bleak. The more I listen to it the more of its charms are revealed. The buried vocals in Wished I Was A Giant suggesting a wistful longing against the prosaically pop guitar riff. Donkey School is mournful and depressing, a foghorn or something going off at regular intervals, so much so I have to hit pause to see if my daughter is practicing cello. Clocking in at one minute, this song feels about 40 seconds too long. But it does set you up nicely to enjoy Dusted, which by comparison, is a happy little ditty and at two minutes, feels like an epic on this album. Sot sounds like an REM songs, and not an REM-type song but like a specific REM song which I can’t quite put my finger on. I think it’s from Life’s Rich Pageant but definitely of that era. Album ends with Non-Absorbing, which on Human Amusements seems to exist solely to set up the ecstasy of Motor Away. Here it is just the last song leading to nothing, and it feels like GBV is getting ready to tee-off on a hole in one that doesn’t come.
Dr S:
Before I start listening to this album, I’m gonna have to stop eating fritos. The loud crunching sound is interfering with my ability to hear the music. Ok, that’s better. Actually they’re “Clancy’s” brand – i.e., Aldi knock-off fritos – which I swear are the same, but my 15-year-old says they’re no good. He says that about all knock-off brands, just as a matter of course. I told him that when he’s paying for groceries, he can buy his toilet paper at Fresh Market if he wants.
Now on to Half Smiles of the Decomposed. The album starts off with a winner, Everyone Thinks I’m a Raincloud. I hope the momentum is kept up with the rest of the album. Getting about halfway through the album now and I’m super pleased to report that all the songs are fantastic. Sleep Over Jack sounds like jerky early ‘80s post-punk. Ditto with Gonna Never Have to Die. Both are well crafted gems. Wow - Girls of Wild Strawberries and Closets of Henry are also great. I’m hearing tinges of The Who on this album as well (I’ve mentioned this a few times before). Overall, the first half of the album is light sounding (dare I say “happy?”). Not what I’d expected, given the album title. Pollard must have been in a good mood.
Beginning with Asia Minor, Half Smiles of the Decomposed takes on a consistently quieter, more somber tone. It’s not depressing but I suppose I’d call it more introspective sounding. This lull in the action continues through the remainder of Half Smiles of the Decomposed, with the exception of Asphyxiated Circle (where the hell does he get these song titles?). The second half of the album sounds like something you’d listen to on a Sunday morning. As I am writing this on a Saturday, I’m not enjoying it as much as the first half. There’s some good stuff here, perhaps not as strong as the first seven tracks, however.
I think I’d give this one a B. Most of the songs seem well crafted, which doesn’t always seem to be the case with GBV. A number of the albums I’ve heard up to this point have tracks that sound like rough drafts. Looking at this album review process so far (we’re nine albums in) I’m wondering why GBV doesn’t get more lovin’. Most of the songs on this album have fewer than 100k listens on Spotify. I’ll remind the reader that I haven’t looked into the history of the band so I don’t have much to go on other than the songs themselves, but it sounds like they should get more appreciation from the kiddies.
Half Smiles of the Decomposed
2004; 14 songs, 42 minutes
Libbers:
I love the fact that Mike starts his review pondering knockoff snack-chips. (See the other side of the page for more.) Mike and I have a long and storied history together, and part of that history involves us wasting much of our youth at mutual friend’s house, mooching snacks and drinking their off-brand pop. Our friend, a charismatic high school girl in our grade, had soda delivered to her house. These sodas generally corresponded with popular sodas of the day (we said “pop” because it’s the right word) but slightly off. There was a 7-Up drink called, Yum-Up or something like that. Dr. Pepper was Adjunct Faculty Member Jimmy—I’m making these up but I bet Mike remembers. Maybe he can tell us when we review Zeppelins O’er China. The point is, he wasn’t so copasetic with knock off brands back then, but we all grow and get cheaper. For what it’s worth, one of my kids will only eat a certain brand of Greek Yogurt, vaguely citing something called “protein numbers” and another likes something called “oat milk.” Drive me nuts.
With its beautiful title, poetic, wistful, and funny, Half Smiles starts with Everyone Thinks I’m a Rainbow, a song I knew because Dave Lucas had put it on a mix tape for me years ago, without knowing it was Guided by Voices. It’s a mid-level bouncy GBV number, and would be the greatest song in most artist’s catalog, here it’s an almost-ran. Followed by a rather downbeat Sleepover Jack which uses a disquieting shrieking man in the background sounds like an outtake from Pink Floyd’s The Wall, except it’s too distressing. This is followed by a string of fantastic heart-lifters, Girls of Wild Strawberries, Gonna Never Have to Die, Window of My World. The album is jangly and lilting, Pollard’s voice confident and totally engaged. Closets of Henry has him trying to explain…just things. I mentioned last week that one of the songs on Vampire on Titus sounds like specific REM song. The same goes for Sons of Apollo which has that same weird vibe, like Stipe droning one about god knows what. I like GBV a lot better than fellow letterists REM, but you can hear the influence of these contemporaries on each other, Just as the Coens are superior to David Lynch even though you have no Barton Fink without David Lynch. That fiery ending is so Lynchian, the Coens should include him in the credits, the way MASH cites Alan Alda as a “creative consultant,” whatever that means. Hey Hawkeye, creativity doesn’t hire a consultant!
Zeppelin Over China
2019, 32 songs, 74 minutes
Dr S:
I was just going over my calendar and I see that Dan and I are going to see Guided by Voices in Evanston, Illinois in 2 ½ weeks. I always like to do a bit of homework before I go to a show, especially if I’m not too familiar with everything a band has done. In the case of GBV I hadn’t heard anything, so I had to start from scratch – this is precisely how this album review project came about in the first place. Plus, I haven’t seen a band with Dan in almost 30 years (1992 Pixies show in Carbondale, Illinois?) so that’s a plus, regardless of who we’re going to see. I just hope he doesn’t throw breath mints at the band like he did at the Material Issue show. They were rock-star boners anyways, so I thought it was funny at the time.
Hoo boy – just had my first look at Zeppelin over China. The album has 32 songs and is 1 hour 14 minutes long. Looks like we’re going to be in for a long haul here. I’m used to most GBV albums clocking in at ca. 35-40 minutes or so. I just noticed that this is one of three albums that GBV put out in 2019. This guy must be locked in a closet writing songs 18 hours a day. Ok, here it goes…
The album begins with three good tracks, Good Morning Sir, Step of the Wave, and Carapace, so I’m off to a good start. Cutting right to the chase, the remainder of Zeppelin over China continues in this vein, with decent, solid rockers dominating throughout. A few of the songs suffer from the “GBV ramble” (i.e., songs with disparate pieces that wander around and don’t seem to carve a particular path) that I’ve come to expect from some of the later albums, but even these are not flat-out clunkers. The album is a fairly respectable collection overall, though I can’t say that any songs are sending me into a frenzy, at least on the first couple of listens. Some songs give me the impression that they could have been elevated from good to GREAT with a little bit of tweaking. I can’t pinpoint what exactly the tweaking might entail (that’s why I’m sitting here on my couch critiquing albums and not writing/performing my own songs) but there’s a feeling of a slightly sputtering spark on Zeppelin over China that could have potentially burst into something much bigger and more impactful. Overall, though, I’m glad to see that more recent GBV efforts can be pretty good, given my lukewarm opinion of Tremblers and Goggles by Rank from 2022.
Libbers
Was it Material Issue? Somehow over the years my super over-inflated sense of self-importance has made me think it was Smashing Pumpkins, that it was Billy Corgan I pelted with Altoids and who yelled at me from the stage to “knock it off,” making me semi-reexamine my life. Now that I know it was actually (checks Google) Jim Ellison, a far less famous Chicago rocker, I have to recontextualize this anecdote—and sheepishly consider correcting the record with all the people to whom I’ve bragged about upsetting irritant Billy Corgan. I think I’ll let it stand and hope it doesn’t come up again. Besides, Valerie Loves Me is just as good as anything on Mellon Collie, right? Right?
That Pixies show in Carbondale Mike referenced was concert-going highlight. Horton Heat opened, and apart from a faux pas where I made an obscene joke to one of Mike’s new friends who worked at the venue, and who had bragged about doing the Pixies’ laundry (I forgot most people aren’t as coarse as the crowd Mike and I ran with in the late 80s), the night is a very happy memory, every bit as good as when Mike and I saw The Smiths in 1986 and much better than when we saw the Psychedelic Furs some year later.
But enough of my digressin’, let’s talk about Guided By Voices. Zeppelin Over China was the first album to come out after I saw the band and the first to make me think what an undertaking it would be to listen to every note of music Pollard released. It was a February 1st, and I woke to fine the world 32 GBV songs richer. Good Morning Sir indeed. Pollard’s voice sounds a little creaky in this opening track like he really has just woken up. Carapace is the only song to my knowledge about turtle shells (They Might Be Giants has one) to make the observation “sacrophagus-fa-fa-fa.” The possibly twin themed songs “Send in the Suicide Squad” and “Your lights are Out” are GBV in fine form. To me these sound like Guided by Voices without influence. Not that the songs are sui generis, but there is less clear antecedent to these songs. This Pollard in his full Pollardness—now the snap crackle of the early stuff, but super confident, midlife form..
This album is an achievement, coming in a notably prolific period from a guy who is known for his prolificness. Several songs appear on my Spotify playlist GBV Gems, (which I’ve managed to restrict to 180 songs) including Rally Boys, Questions of the Test, My Failure in Barcelona, Cobbler Ditches and Cold Cold hands..
Isolation Drills
2001; 16 songs, 47 minutes
Dr S:
This morning, on the way to Walmart, I subjected my wife to Flowers of Romance by Public Image, a fairly unlistenable album of drumbeats accompanied by John Lydon’s shrill Middle Eastern-sounding wailing. Give it a short sampling and you’ll hear what I’m talking about. I used to listen to this album a fair amount when I was in college. I liked it then and found today that I still do. I wasn’t surprised at all that she hated it, but she told me she’s learned over the past 25 years to not even bother complaining. She doesn’t even really listen to music (yes), and I can only stand so much of Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me’s cleverness before I get antsy.
Going back to these old albums makes me reflect on what “kind” of music I enjoy most. I don’t even know the answer to this question, but I can see a multi-decade preference for unconventional, unexpected sounds that create a mood (e.g., Gang of Four). I’m also a sucker for fast, catchy songs with a good amount of distortion thrown in (e.g., Buzzcocks). That might be about 90 percent of it. I dunno…
With that in mind, I will now present to you my learned opinions on Isolation Drills. The opening track, Fair Touching, sets the mood for the album, with its relatively mainstream production and jangly-sounding, slightly distorted guitars - a teeny bit like later REM in its friendly sound. Most of the remainder of Isolation Drills follows this pattern – good, solid songs with a fairly conventional feel. Glad Girls has over 3 million listens on Spotify, which is basically Stairway to Heaven numbers for Guided by Voices. It’s a pretty good song with a decent hookiness to it. I can see why it has the most listens. But lo, on the horizon, I spy some glimmers of the older GBV aesthetic here! Want One? and Enemy are a bit more up my alley, as is Pivotal Film. Apparently nobody agrees with me though, as all three have just about the least numbers of listens for the whole album.
Overall, what we’ve got here is a good collection of straightforward and well-written rock tunes; one, however, that’s perhaps a bit too friendly sounding for my ear. For the most part, the sound is just not reeling me in as much as the earlier GBV albums that I’ve listened to (e.g., Alien Lanes, Vampire on Titus). While the songs on Isolation Drills comprise a laudable effort, I probably would have enjoyed the album a lot more if they had roughed it up quite a bit. I get it – artists evolve over time – but I like what I like.
Libbers:
Fair Touching starts the album and it’s a sweet, harmonious uplifter with a great Pollard winky title. Chasing Heather Crazy is on this album, as is Twilight Campfire. That’s all I wrote in 2019, pre Completerist days. I picked this one thinking, Mike will really love it, but he didn’t, and it sort of hurts my feelings, because I do. I love the raw GBV stuff, but I also like polish. I have always had an affinity for pop music which Mike has scorned. I didn’t like Dinosaur JR and he didn’t like Cindy Lauper or Culture Club. I wouldn’t be so crass as to point out which one of us history has vindicated: You have to Google just to even figure out what a Dinosaur JR was, while Cindy Lauper is saving lives selling adult psoriasis medication on teevee. I don’t think Isolation Drills is GBV at its finest or most textured, but I think it’s a great, pop friendly album filled with grooves and heart. I don’t have a whole lot to say about this album other than I love it, top ten for me. Mike is the star of the show anyway, I’m just the straight man; the blue test line on your positive Covid test. Besides, I know what the next album is and I know I wrote a shit-ton about it. No way Mike can match my output on the next album. See you then. PS: Mike is right about Wait Wait. It’s awful.
Live from Austin, TX
2007; 30 songs, 89 minutes
Dr S:
So yeah, Dan and I were supposed to see Guided by Voices next Tuesday, so we’d decided to listen to the “Live from Austin, TX” album for our next review in order to get revved up for the real thing. BUT, as it turns out, Robert Pollard went and broke his kneecap last week and so, they’ve cancelled the show and we’re outta luck. I don’t know what he did to fracture his patella but apparently it’s bad enough that GBV cancelled all four Evanston shows. Maybe he owed money to the mafia. I told Dan that if they reschedule the shows, I’ll drive up (about 5 ½ hours) to see them and we’ll see what happens. In lieu of seeing GBV, Dan and I are going to meet up with college friends and talk about precious college-era memories – like the time an argument led to one friend shoving another friend’s head in the toilet in a hippie vegetarian restaurant in Evanston. Should be nostalgia-inducing.
I found the Live from Austin, TX album on YouTube, and it includes video from the show (a taping of Austin City Limits), so I will vicariously live through the Austin crowd from 15 years ago and deal with it. Now on to the specifics – First, I’m pleased to note that I know a lot of the songs on the Live from Austin album, so I probably would have been decently prepared to see GBV, which always makes a show better. Second, you can tell that Pollard knows how to work the crowd. He engages in a good amount of chatter with the fans – also a good sign, as you can tell he’s not just punching the clock so he can get back to the hotel room and go to bed. He swings the microphone around by the cord like Roger Daltrey – very rock n roll. I just wonder if he’s ever clobbered someone in the face doing that.[1] There are two metal tubs full of beers and tequila in front of the drum kit, which Pollard visits frequently between songs. By the fifteenth song or so, he and the rest of the band are pretty hammered. With a tongue loosened by alcohol, Pollard shits on some bands he doesn’t like - Smashmouth and Velvet Revolver, specifically.
Pollard’s singing is consistently flat and the backup vocals from the band are off as well – definitely not Beach Boys grade harmonizing. Now, this honestly doesn’t bother me at all as it’s part of the band’s vibe (i.e., an emphasis on energy and songwriting over musical virtuosity). I played a bit of GBV for my niece, who studies opera, and she winced when hearing the singing. Virtuosity can be boring as hell, however – if you don’t believe me, try sitting through a Joe Satriani album. But, as Pollard mentions during his moments of banter, “you can suck and still rule.” I couldn’t agree more.
[1] My question is answered during the encore. While singing Fair Touching, one of the guitar players wanders into the audience and the fans yank on his guitar. He eventually makes it back to stage just as Pollard is swinging the mic and it looks like the mic hits the guitar, which sends his fellow band member reeling onto the stage. It takes him about two minutes to stand back up again and unravel the guitar strap from the neck.
Libbers:
Robert Pollard broke his knee. I found out when several friends reached out to do a wellness check on me. I like hanging out in breweries and eating pizza, so tomorrow should be fun anyway, but the last time I had tickets to a canceled show, it was Mose Alison. He got sick and was going to reschedule, but then he went ahead and died. I hope Mr Pollard fares better. (Another show that canceled on us was Georg Solti conducting Daniel Berenbaum, now both dead, so my fingers are really crosse for Pollard!)
The Live album is a fun, sloppy romp in GBV land for the fans. Starts with the audience chanting GBV, and Pollard interjecting, Say it! Learn it! Know it! The band seems to be eulogizing and mythologizing itself, as if they were all done. They seem to not be aware that this performance isn’t the end of anything, not even an era. Pollard gets sloppier and more drunk as the night progresses, but also more personable and funny. When he says, “This is fun,” he’s not saying it’s fun. He’s saying it’s not, not fun, like he’s surprised. Often he’s fumbling and halting when speaking but when the music starts, even if he’s still talking, a confidence takes over, as in the song Pendulum.
I have painstakingly and accurately transcribed everything Pollard says between songs. You can find my transcript below. Please read it out loud like a poem, and think of Mike and me not seeing a GBV show as you do.
This is a song that’s on the album Alien Lanes and it’s called Pimple Zoo. / Thank you kids. We’re going to have a good time tonight, aren’t we. This is a song, uh from our new album, Half Smiles of Decomposed, called, Everyone Thinks I’m a Rain Cloud when I’m not Looking. / Yeah baby. Aaight. This is a song from the album Propeller, called Exit Flagger. / Thank you. This is another song from Half Smiles of the Decomposed called The Call me Sleepover Jack. (inaudible muttering) / Thank you for that. This is a song from the same album, called The Girls of Wild Strawberries, all right. / Yeah. Fun rock. We are advocates of fun rock. Serious rock is good, but fun rock is better. This is a song from Self-Inflicted Arial of Nostalgia called Flood Regions. / This Gold Star for Robot Boy, one two three four! / Robot boy! (slurry) This is song from the album Half Smile of Decomposed called In The Window of my World. It’s a lovely. It’s a lovely song. You’ll love it. I guarantee you, you’ll all love it. Even if you don’t know who we are, you’ll love it. You guys know who we are (laughing.) Yeah... / Fun for the whole family. Ay, we’re going to begin; all right! This is a song called, Red Men and their Wives. It’s a lovely song about Ohio. / Thank you kids. Hey. All right. We got a song called Dayton, Ohio 19 Something and Five for you right now. This is a ballad of Guided By Voices. From Dayton, Ohio. Not a bad place to visit. Not a good place to stay. / All right. This an old song. / Rock and roll will never die. This is a song from the EP from the I Am a Scientist EP, called, Do the Earth. / This is a song kids, that we always like to play for a long time, it’s been on our set for twenty years, the song is (inaudible) called Game of Pricks all right. / (Inaudible.) Hey this is a song from the album Earthquake Glue, called Secret Star all right. Joining me will be the delicious vocal talents of Nate Foley and Doug Alou. /( Middle of song) I wanted to thank you. I want to thank you ladies and gentlemen for allowing us to do our thing for 21years. Twenty-one good years we played. (inaudible) But not without a lot of good times. Meet a lot of good people. Like Tom Yorn. Is he over there? Get him up here. Get Tom Yorn up here (inaudible—motherfucker?). We met good people. Hey, it’s been a good reign. And we, we saw the world. And we were the kings of low-fi. We (inaudible) the early 90s, when people were staring at their shoes. And we brought back rock and roll, Guided by Voices did. It was a good thing. It was a good thing, (starts to sing) it was a good thing, it was a good thing, to bring back rock and roll. To bring back rock and roll... Rock and Roll is for the kids. And all the adults who think it’s for them, get out of the way. The kids are confused. Hey this is going to be cut so get nuts. Going to be cut! All right! This could have been a perfectly great song. (Ends) Get it on! Get it on! All right! (fades) / All right! This is My Kind of Soldier all right. Two three four! Good clean fun! (middle) (muttering something about) “ladies over there.” (giggling) / Hey kids, let me tell you something that Guided by Voices taught the world. That you can suck and still rule. You can get out of synch. And you can, you can, and it doesn’t sound good. But it still rules. That’s what we taught the world. That’s the last thing we taught the world, did we? Didn’t we Chris? (Yeah) All right. Thank you kids, thank you kids. You guys are good! Good people. This is a song called sad if I lost it. / Ladies and gentlemen. Mr Pete Yorn. Mr Pete Yorn. (opening riff to Cutout Witch.) You know that song Pete? (laughs) Yeah. (Someone says something off mic) Finish it off and get a new one. Thank you. No finish it off and (inaudible--lead?) Good man! / Pete Yorn ladies and gentleman. I hope it doesn’t ruin his career. Pete Yorn ladies and gentlemen. (Inaudible off mic) This is called You’re never Gonna Have to Die. Do it! / (Long sentence here, might be thank you, very slurry and hard to make out.) / This is the Best of Jill Hives. Let’s do it. / Thank you. Thank you. This is an old song, kids, from the album Alien Lanes, it’s called Watch me Jumpstart. Two three four! / We’re having fun. This is fun. All right. This is an old song called Tractor Rape Chain. Two three four! / This is a song keeeds, from the album Bee Thousand called Buzzards and Dreadful Crows. Two three four. / Hey lo. This song, from Same Place the Fly got Smashed called Pendulum. Let’s do it. This is, this, this is a great one. It’s great. You’ll like it. You’ll like it. I guarantee you’ll like it. Two three four. You’re gonna like. You’re gonna like this one. I know you are. / That’s good. That’s good. That’s good shit, man. That’s good shit. Thank you kids, this is the last song. Good night. No, don’t go. We got, they said we could get one encore. We’ll be back. / Thank you. Wow bob wow. Wow. Wow bob. Oh, you guys are gonna dig, you guys are gonna dig the encore man, cause we’ve got hit’s galore. We got hits galore. You gonna dig the encore with hits galore. This is a song called Fair Touching all right. Two three four. / Thank you kids. This is a song called The Teenage FbI. They’re looking for you right now. / Wow. This is a song called (singing) Hey-ey Gald Girls.... / (middle) Thank you Austin. Good place to live. (end) (sings)Come on kee-yuds. (Speaks) All right. It’s all right. This is called. Hey kids, hey kids, I would like, we would like to play you a song right now from the album Bee Thousand, called I Am A Scientist. / All right. All right. Last song. Last song. Last song. Echoes of Myron. Two three four. / Thank you all! —Libbers
King Shit and the Golden Boys
1995; 19 songs, 41 minutes
Dr S:
This week, we’re going back to some of the early stuff. I see that my latest assignment, King Shit and the Golden Boys, was released in 1995 as part of a boxed set of early albums (entitled “Box”). King Shit consists of “previously unavailable material” that (I’m assuming) wasn’t included on the first five albums for one reason or another. I’m not sure when these songs were recorded but most of them sure sound rough (both musically and from a production standpoint) so I’m going to guess a lot of the tracks were from pretty early on. The lo-fi sound of the production doesn’t come off like an artistic statement or a hipster affectation. It really does seem like a low-budget made-in-the-basement endeavor.
A lot of “extra stuff” albums, like this one, tend to be peppered with weak tracks that were left off of their respective albums for a reason (e.g., they were half-baked ideas that didn’t work out). These albums often come off as an easy means to supply the public’s desire for new material by scraping out the crumbs from the bottom of the toaster. I’m thinking of the Beatles Anthology albums, for example, which are interesting as historic documents more than anything else.
I’m glad to say that this album is not one of those “crumb gatherings.” Rather, most or all tracks are solid, straightforward rock tunes. Many of them sound Beatle-esque or a bit like Velvet Underground, without showing overt influences from one band or another. To a large extent, the songwriting is fairly conventional stuff with the edgy sound coming from the production alone. Listen to Crutch Came Slinking, for example, and imagine it being sung by Turtles. As far as I can tell from the thirteen or so albums that I’ve listened to, GBV has always been a band that, despite its indie reputation, owes its sound more to straight-up melodic rock and roll than anything else. Looking into the earliest years of the band, there really isn’t much of a punk or experimental sound here. Strip off the distortion and buff up the sound and you’ve got yourself something fairly listenable. Knowing this, it makes GBV’s journey to the polished production of Do the Collapse (1999) and Isolation Drills (2001) a pretty logical endpoint.
Libbers:
Robert Pollard wants to know you you feel and how “it” feels, and he asks over and over again in the opening track, We’ve Got Airplanes, a solid, unmistakably GBV number with guitars that jangly, vocals that mostly soar, and a confusing little backing vocal that is off beat to leave a listener’s brows furrowed, a little discordance to remind you not to expect an easy ride regardless of whether you are a golden boy or a king shit. The songs here do seem to be in two modes, punky, muddy sounding numbers like “Squirmish Frontal Room” and upbeat toe tappers such as “Crutch Game Slinking” “Deathtrot Warlord Riding a Rooster,” and mock countrified “Sopor Joe.” It should also be noted, as these titles clearly indicate, Pollard seems to be in fine form as a lyricist, with his most abstract titles sutured to prosaic—what we in the rhetoric business refer to as—body paragraphs. “I’m not angry now folks, I’m not worried.” “Don’t Stop Now,” is a demo style version of Don’t Stop Now, just Pollard’s voice and a buzzing acoustic guitar sounding like it’s being clanged and banged in a hotel room. It would come to fruition in Under the Bushes Under the Stars achingly beautiful rendition of this song, sung magisterially. This time Pollard is singing, “Don’t stop now now” [sic], and it feels really important to him. Could be my mood, but I’m going back and forth from this version to the Under the Bushes version and listening over and over and actually getting weepy. I have no idea what it’s about, maybe the gloom outside my window. “At Odds with Dr. Genesis” appears somewhere else in some other form too, so maybe this whole thing is just experiments? (Mike tells me it’s part of a box set called “Box” and the disk with experiments and demos—so why is it one of my all time favorite GBV albums?) I actually like this version of that too. (Dr Genesis is “Ester’s Day” from Bee Thousand, a real stripped-down version. Album ends with “Crocker’s Favorite Song,” which is also another, slowed down version of some other song I’ve heard before which I can’t place at the moment.
Class Clown Spots a UFO
2012; 21 songs, 40 minutes
Dr S:
Ok – you knew it had to happen. Just when I thought we were making some headway with this project, GBV released a new album last week (La La Land). They’ve been dropping two or three albums a year these past few years, so I knew it was only a matter of time before a new one would be added to our already-lengthy queue. Tremblers and Goggles by Rank came out six months ago – what took you so long, Bobby?
I don’t have a whole lot to say about this album except that it connected with me from beginning to end. Class Clown Spots a UFO is a solid collection of great songs, each with its own personality. There’s a clear feeling of enthusiasm and excitement in the songwriting and performances on the album that kept my interest from beginning to end. Surprisingly, the full-ahead energy on Class Clown Spots a UFO isn’t something that you’d expect from a band’s 24th album. Try listening to the latest Eric Clapton album – anything especially interesting there? Probably not. There are some nice, quiet, introspective songs on Class Clown Spots a UFO (e.g., Be Impeccable, Chain to the Moon) as well as some great rockers (e.g., Hang Up and Try Again, Tyson’s High School). Throw in a weird one or two (e.g., Fighter Pilot) and you’ve got everything you’d want from an excellent GBV album. This is probably one of my favorites so far but hey, there are still 28 albums that I haven’t heard yet.
Libbers:
This is a happy little album, whose infectious little title track bounces like the Archies and gladdens the spirit with its refrain of “up, up we go now.” (I would later hear a demo-y version of this song on the Suitcase 3 album which was released four years prior) It’s the 4th song on the album and feels like the first. Much of Pollard’s vocals are front and center with the music being almost afterthoughts or, as in Chain To The Moon, not present at all. The music is more a place holder. Fighter Pilot has fronted lyrics but the noises are nonsensical, like the Cocteau Twins. Although their noises sounds like they could be words, whereas this just sounds like, noise, a language in search of meaning. Actually, is this a concept album? With Tyson’s High School and Starfire (which is also a beaut, “Words are falling down raindrops...”) there seems to be an awful lot of tunes about high schools and spaceships. Or is it all a coincidence? Some of his best title work here, the eponymous one as well as the inscrutably titled opening number, “He Rises! Our Union Bellboy,”
August by Cake
2017; 32 songs, 71 minutes
Libbers:
Late era GBV albums are long, and not just by early era GBV standards. This one clocks in at over an hour. Dr. Feelgood Falls off the Ocean starts like Everywhere With Helicopters. I kind of think this albums is annoying and noisy. Another song sounds like the guy from Fleet Foxes is singing at a noisy coffee shop. I always found this to be one of my least favorite GBV albums, and fortunately Mike has done some research as to why that might be.
This is more about us than it is about GBV, but Mike and I used to have a shorthand term for songs that weren’t written by the main guy in the band. We called them “Diggles,” after Steve Diggle, the guitarist for the Buzzcocks. “Harmony in my Head” was a Diggle. It’s a fine song, but no “Orgasm Addict,” no “Sixteen Again,” no “Fast Cars,” (To be fair, “Fast Cars” is actually half Diggle.) Those songs and most of the others that really say “Buzzcock” were all written by Pete Shelley. Because we were such big Cockheads, we started applying it to every band. The Who’s “My Wife” is a Diggle having been written by John Entwistle, and so is the beloved “Boris the Spider.” A dubbing of Diggle makes no inference about quality, just provenance. Anyway, August by Cake seems to be an album of Diggles, not all of them bad, just not Shelleys. It’s pretty forgettable.
Dr S:
August by Cake is the sixteenth GBV album I’m reviewing/commenting on, so maybe it’s time to offer some thoughts about the band as a whole. As I’ve been going along, I’ve been marking the album titles that I would definitely like to listen to again. Of the fifteen reviews I’ve completed so far, I have nine “repeat listens” marked. So - GBV is currently batting .600 – a fairly decent track record. Having started with no knowledge of the band four months ago, would I say I’ve developed into a Guided by Voices fan? Yes, but their output is a bit hit-and-miss for me. There’s a helluva lot to like here (e.g., Space Gun, Class Clown Spots a UFO, Alien Lanes), all of which I can see myself returning to over and over again. Notably, these albums span the entire GBV catalog – nearly 40 years at this point. Pollard and his various bandmates are capable of keeping up the enthusiasm for the project and that’s admirable. Anybody can get burned out on “work” no matter what it entails. However, there are a number of albums in the GBV catalog that didn’t push any buttons for me (e.g., Sandbox, English Little League, Tremblers and Goggles by Rank). Like the awesome stuff, the klunkers are interspersed throughout GBV’s discography. Pollard isn’t superhuman, so blips in his creativity are expected. According to Wikipedia, the guy has written nearly 3,000 songs so…
Where does August by Cake fall? The album has a whopping 32 songs on it and runs 1 hour 15 minutes. It starts out with a pretty good, upbeat tune, 5° on the Inside, which has a bit of uncharacteristic horns or horn-like synth thrown into the mix. Immediately after that we’re asked to endure a couple of plodding/rambling songs (Generox Gray ® and When We All Hold Hands at the End of the World), both of which dropped my enthusiasm considerably. When I got to the fourth song (Goodbye Note) I noticed something odd. Not only did this song not sound like GBV, but the guy singing it obviously wasn’t Robert Pollard. Who the hell is this guy? Well - the song was written by guitar player Doug Gillard. As we go through the remainder of August by Cake, there are a lot of non-Pollard songs on the album (nine total), all written by “non-Pollards” Mark Shue (bass), Bobby Bare Jr. (guitar), and Kevin March (drummer). Some of the songs are pretty good (Absent the Man, Overloaded), while others are not so hot. Deflect/Project, for example, is pretty bad. Upon the Circus Bus, however, one of Bobby Bare Jr.’s contributions, is a really fantastic song. So what’s going on here? I peeked and saw that August by Cake featured a brand-new GBV lineup. Maybe these guys only agreed to join if they could include some of their own songs on the album? Who knows?
As far as the Pollard contributions are concerned, there’s a mix of good and not so hot. Warm up to Religion, It’s Food, Cheap Buttons, and Dr. Feelgood Falls Off the Ocean are some of the better Pollard contributions. Other, as I mentioned above, are a bit rambling, which seems to be my major hangup with some GBV albums/songs. Overall, August by Cake is a fairly middling addition to the GBV discography. It didn’t knock my socks off but there are a good number of decent songs to enjoy. Given that there are 32 tracks on the album, August by Cake could have easily done with a culling of some of the weaker contributions – the result would have been a lot stronger.
Propeller
1992; 16 songs, 36 minutes
Libbers:
Starts with that GBV chant and classic Pollard ditty called “Over the Neptune/Mesh Gear Fox.” The Neptune part is in that heart-lifter GBV mode, but halfway through we get a more downbeat, trippier song, the Mesh Gear part, I assume, although even this revolves in a satisfying manner, but not something I’d want to repeat too often. This is not the case with the rest of the album as it has some solid GBV all timers, including 14 Cheerleader Coldfront and Exit Flagger and On the Tundra. Thrown in are some less strong ditties like Weedking and Red gas Circle.
One of the reasons I love this project is because Mike came to the world a GBV naif, a wide-eyed babe looking to suckle mamma Pollard’s musical teat. Over a score of listenin’s he had grown to be a GBV adolescent, still full of wonder but now inquisitive and forthright. His approach is more scientific, (get aload-a those footnotes which Squarepace won’t let me import) and he has discovered aspects that I, a moribund GBV doddard, never noticed. Like this this circus business, which had eluded me despite having already listened to the full Circus Devils corpus—a decidedly different freak show than GBV. Mike has yet to notice (or has not commented on) Pollard’s falling back on Indian themes in his music. (E.g: Liquid Indian, Indian Angel, White Crime Indian…) He’s got something to look forward to! Now I have go figure out how to format those footnotes.
Dr S:
Before I review Propeller, I have to report the results of some important GBV-related research that I’ve been working on. There is a song called Circus World on Propeller. Coincidentally, on August by Cake, the previous album I reviewed, there were two songs with the word “circus” in the title.[1] Is Pollard a circus aficionado? Is he a birthday clown on the side? In order to clear up this critical question, I referenced the online Guided by Voices Database (yes, a real thing).[2] Apparently someone has undertaken the Herculean task of recording every last thing that Robert Pollard has been involved in. It’s pretty damn thorough and absolutely overwhelming. I wouldn’t be surprised if a cassette tape of fart noises he made when he was ten isn’t listed there. To get back to the question of Robert Pollard’s possible circus fetish, I queried the database for songs containing the word “circus.” There are seven total (out of 2868) songs. Plus, Pollard was in a band called “Circus Devils” and did an album called “I Sell the Circus” with Ricked Wicky. Given these results, I would say that Pollard probably isn’t obsessed with circuses, but there’s a possibility that he has an Emmett Kelly crying clown painting in his den.
Now on to Propeller, which presents us with 15 songs in only 36 minutes. This is the album right before the “lo-fi” Vampire on Titus and Bee Thousand, both of which I liked a lot. Propeller starts out with a bunch of fans yelling “GBV, GBV!” Seems like the band had a rabid fanbase even before they made the jump to big indie label, Matador. I was in a number of bands some years ago and never had fans chant our band’s name. They mostly just stood there with their arms folded, probably because we sucked.
Propeller is a solid rock album that, with a few exceptions, shows why those damned fans were so excited. It’s a pretty straightforward collection of well-written songs, with the necessary distorted guitars and vocals to establish its indie cred. Some of the highlights include Weedking, a song that sounded a lot like Pink Floyd. Quality of Armor is a good, tight, upbeat rocker, while 14 Cheerleader Coldfront is a great acoustic number. Lethargy isn’t much of a song, but damn, it was done with so much energy that I was won over. There were only a couple of songs that I wasn’t too excited about. Particular Damaged, for example, rambles along and has those über-distorted gimmicky vocals that I’m not a huge fan of, while the “song” Back to Saturn X Radio Report is just short clips of older GBV songs strung together. It doesn’t seem to have much point or message but, sure why not? The album isn’t at the top of my GBV list, but Propeller shows us that Robert “Circus” Pollard was putting out some consistently solid material during this period of the band’s history.
[1] OK yes, one of the two was not written by Robert Pollard, but work with me here.
[2] https://www.gbvdb.com/home.asp. A good scholar always provides references.
Styles We Paid For
2020; 15 songs, 38 minutes
Libbers:
Funny cover—Pollard the visual artist. Megaphone Riley builds, has recognizable GBVness. They Don’t Play the Drums Anymore has a trippy poem in it about, I think beating drums and how they don’t do it no more. Has a lyric about “staring at screensavers,” which tracks alliteratively but doesn’t 100% make sense in 2020. “They taught the babies to smoke, they didn’t laugh at the joke,” are two things Pollard says occurred down at the slaughterhouse in the song “Down at the Slaughterhouse.” His vocals are more up front in these songs and as meat for archivists and super fans, they’re fine. They’re good for wondering what Pollard was musing about in the days leading up or maybe during the pandemic. In “Endless Seafood,” Pollard assures us that we can write a song in the “shake and bake” and that love songs are as cheap plentiful as fish in the sea. Okay! (Note: checked the lyrics and he actually sings “fake and bake.”) To my ears this sounds like a potentially solid GBV heart-lifter, warm vocals and sincere, even has the pivot two minutes in to the more stately GBV, but somehow he forgot to add the Old Bay seasoning: where’s the fuzz, where is that warm guitar? “Mr Child” rolls with the punches and remains as a child, and works for me. “Stops” also has that wistful Pollardy feel to it, with an actual rising action like a Carpenters song. (Have you seen that video with just Karen Carpernter’s vocal track isolated from the rest of “Close to You” track? Damn, yo!) “War of the Devils” plods a bit, but you need one of these on every late era GBV. “Electronic Windows to Nowhere” another half finished GBV classic waiting to happen, just add the band. …. By the time “Liquid Kid” came around I felt like I had heard all these songs already and checked to see if I didn’t accidentally have Spotify on repeat. I didn’t. Still three more songs. Feels like a long 40 minutes but I feel like it was a visit, though I may book elsewhere in the future.
Dr S:
I was thinking about the validity of the “music review” process this week and whether it’s possible to give a fair review to an album after only a couple of listens. I won’t attempt to get into what makes an album good or bad, but I can state with certainty that some come off poorly from the get-go. These albums typically sputter along, ramble, and don’t spark any interest. Others grab you right away and you can feel the inspiration and energy from the first track on. There’s something intangible there, which is probably the reason why a very large percentage of albums are terrible. If there were an easy formula for making a good, catchy song or album, everyone would be doing it.
That being said, there is a certain subset of albums that creep up on you, growing better with repeated listens. I remember the first time I heard All Things Must Pass by George Harrison, my reaction was, “eh, what’s the big deal here?” I had pretty much written it off for many years but, for some reason, returned to the album at some point, only to really appreciate how fantastic it is (minus the throwaway “jams” on the third album). Getting back to Guided by Voices, I’m wondering if some of the albums I previously poo-pooed might actually be better (or worse) than my initial impressions. I’ll have to give Tremblers & Goggles by Rank another listen, for example. I don’t think any number of repeated listens will get me to like Sandbox, however. That one is just plain meh.
Ok, now on to Styles we Paid For. This is the third of three albums put out by GBV in 2020. It came out in November, in the midst of the COVID crap and end of the Trump presidency. Not surprisingly, the album is a bit darker and introspective sounding than most GBV output. There are a couple of songs where Pollard sounds like a crabby old man. These include They Don’t Play the Drums Anymore, where he laments people who are “staring at their screensavers” which he equates with “beating their puds.” This pud-beating sentiment seems to be echoed on Electronic Windows to Nowhere. Endless Seafood is one of the few happier sounding tracks on the album. How could you feel otherwise with a title like “Endless Seafood?”
Regardless of its gloomier sound, I’m happy to report that Styles We Paid For is a well-written collection of driving rock tunes. The album’s highlights include Mr. Child and War of the Devils, both of which are satisfying rockers, while Roll Me to Heaven is a good multi-part tune that barely cracks the two-minute mark. I’m getting a very strong Who vibe from Styles We Paid For, which seems to pop up a bit more overtly on the later GBV albums. As a Who fan, I wanted to get out my tennis racket and play air guitar.
I’ve mentioned this before but some of the GBV albums (like this one) have relatively few listens on Spotify. It’s inexplicable but I’m reluctant to descend into some old-man complaints about “music these days.” There’s always been boatloads of shitty music out there, plus I already feel old enough already.
Get out of my Stations
2020; 11 songs, 22 minutes
Fast Japanese Spin Cycle
1994; 8 songs, 10 minutes
Clown Prince of the Menthol Trailer
1994; 7 songs, 10 minutes
Libbers:
Welcome to the first ever The Completist Dot Com Guided by Voices Project Boxed Set: I’m boiling 20 gallons of sap down to three tablespoons of syrup today so I’ve got nothing but time—enjoy!
Fast Japanese Spin Cycle Album begins with Third World Bird Watching, a wonderful title but the song seems a bit jaunty and twee for GBV, but second song, My Impression Now is a rip snorting GBV heart-lifter. It’s on my best of GBV playlist and if I had to cull it down from the 180 songs it’s at now, My Impression Now would stay on the list, and if I had to make a “Best of my Best of List” My Impression now would be there. This is followed by the moody Volcano Divers, with its plea “You’ve got a lot to say, but hey don’t say it,” and ends with some jangling guitars. This album is so short and every song a tour de force anyway, so as we say about midwestern weather, if you don’t like it much, wait a few minutes and it’ll change. Sure enough here comes Snowman, with Pollard straining to reach the high notes, something about plastic money and Polonesia. It’s okay if you don’t get it, this song is 40 seconds long anyway and here comes Indian Fables, another song in Pollard’s Indian musings. Marchers in Orange is an 80 second toe tapper about who knows what. No time to worry about because here comes the epic lengthed (for this album) at two minutes Dusted, a driving guitar and a focused Pollard, singing about tasting sadness with his eyes.
Get Out of My Stations First song, Scalding Creek, about being happy about being happy, sounds like a twee British pop band, and second song, which begins with what sounds like “fuck fuck fucking fuck you,” uses the phrase “going mobile” over and over, a clear reference to The Who, (I imagine Mike will make this observation) and ends with Pollard saying Move, over and over, reminiscent of the way Daltrey sings it. Queen of Second Guessing is horrible and annoying. A nice live versions of Motor Away, Hot Freaks, and Postal Blowfish round it out.
Clown Prince of the Menthol Trailer Feels low-fi and slapdash even by GBV standards. Broadcaster House appears, at least in part, in some other form on some other album. Maybe that collage-y song on Bee Thousand? Is this then a rough draft of sorts for Bee Thousand. Or castoffs? Another track Scalping the Gurus, seems to be a minute of silence. Nope—just my phone fucking up. Although it is soft at first.
Dr M:
Holy crap. I just figured out how long it’s going to take to get through all the GBV albums. According to the GBV online database, the band has 38 studio albums. We’ve done 17 so far, which means we’re not even halfway finished. I started this in October 2022 and if I’m dutiful in finishing one every week, we’re not going to finish until mid-July 2023. That’s not even counting EPs and live albums. Does Pollard write songs in his sleep?
This time around I’m looking at three short EPs from 1994. All are from the lo-fi era, which usually scores a hit with me. Ok, here goes…
Clown Prince of the Menthol Trailer This EP is pretty much just some lo-fi snippets containing all the necessary elements (i.e., buzzy vocals, sloppy drums, and out-of-tune guitar). All songs are less than 2 ½ minutes and seem to be nothing more than half-baked ideas. Clown Prince of the Menthol Trailer isn’t terrible but there’s nothing particularly compelling here. Hunter Complex is probably the best of the lot.
Fast Japanese Spin Cycle The collection starts off with 3rd World Birdwatching, which consists of forty-two seconds of plinking around on the piano w/ some enigmatic lyrics thrown over it. Hmmm - not a good start. I was relieved when the next song, My Impression Now, started, as it’s an actual song. Not only that but it’s catchy. The rest of Fast Japanese Spin Cycle continues along this vein, offering us a collection of decent lo-fi tunes, all less than 2 ½ minutes each. Volcano Divers and Snowman are middling efforts but overall, Fast Japanese Spin Cycle is worth revisiting.
Get Out of My Stations GOoMS (good abbreviation, no?) starts out with Scalding Creek, a slow, pleasant acoustic number. After that, the EP is pretty patchy. There are a few decent songs (e.g., Melted Pat, Dusty Bushworms, Spring Tiger) that are interspersed with some irritating non-songs that sound like stream of consciousness jams made up on the spot (e.g., Mobile, Queen of Second Guessing, Blue Moon Fruit). I’d probably just snatch the best bits of this one for a GBV playlist and leave the remainder behind. There are four live tracks tacked on to the end of Get Out of My Stations that were added for the 2003 rerelease. All four are from 1992 to 1994 shows and give some idea as to the live energy of the band. Wish I’d been able to see GBV live but Pollard broke his damn kneecap.
Motivational Jumpsuit
2014; 20 songs, 37 minutes
Libbers:
Littlest League Possible is almost a novelty song, but tough to resist. “Difficult Outburst” and “Breakthrough” feels like a transitional song, still the old GBV in there somewhere. I think a lot of these songs are Tobin Sprout’s, the genial GBV collaborator, and I find them very appealing, particularly “Calling Up Washington” and “Some Things are Big (and Some Things are Small).” I listened to a couple of Tobin Sprout’s albums after hearing Jumpsuit for the first time and didn’t quite connect to his solo work quite as much as I have with Pollard’s solo stuff, much of which I adore (“Pop Zeus”, “Secret Weaver,” “It’s a Pleasure Being You”). It’s all a continuum. Motivational Jumpsuit seems to be linked thematically through politics with songs about Columbus and Washington and voting and borders, but darned if I can say exactly what the overall idea is other than maybe Pollard was thinking about politicians during the three weeks he was working on this album or maybe on a tour in Maryland or something?
Dr S:
My go-to website for music info is allmusic.com. I probably visit it multiple times a day, looking up the discography for such-and-such band or the track listing on a particular album. Yesterday, I made my way through most of the Siouxsie and the Banshees discography while I was working in the archaeology lab and I found that, for the most part, I was in general agreement with the album reviews. Usually this is the case, no matter what band I’m interested in. Not so with Guided by Voices. There seems to be little correspondence between the albums I’m listening to and the published reviews. For example, every single album from 2004 on (with one exception) is rated either 3 ½ or 4 stars out of 5. How is this possible? I realize that one’s enjoyment of an album is a fairly subjective thing, but it’s pretty damn clear to me that some of these albums are very good, some are middling, and some are flat out meh. Like any band with a long recording career, a portion of their output is going to nail it, while other efforts will miss the mark. Does anybody listen to The Who’s “It’s Hard,” for example? The GBV reviews on allmusic.com aren’t signed, so I don’t know if it’s the same person doing all of them (i.e., their assigned “GBV guy”) but the consistency of their ratings defies logic. Whew, glad I got that off my chest.
Motivational Jumpsuit gets a 4-star review on allmusic.com. Honestly, I have no idea where that’s coming from. It’s certainly not a bad album, but it ain’t their best either. There’s a distinct psychedelic vibe on a number of songs (e.g., I Am Columbus, Jupiter Spin, Record Level Love) with a jangly Byrds-like sound coming through. All are decent tunes. There are some good rockers as well – Planet Score and Alex and the Omegas are the best of the lot.
A big part of the album consists of quieter tunes, which I can get behind in principle, no problem. Some have just an acoustic guitar, while others are played by a subdued sounding full band. Bird with No Name is the best of these. Shine (Tomahawk Breath) is pretty good as well. Many of the remainder, however, suffer from the “GBV ramble” that I’ve mentioned before. Songs that fit under this heading tend to wander around without much direction and have little to hook you in. It’s hard to put your finger on what’s missing, but oftentimes it seems like the “ramblers” could use some tightening up and polishing to make them into something more impactful.
I’ve lived with a Greek for the past 25 years, so I’ve been conditioned to not sugarcoat my opinions. I’m gonna give Motivational Jumpsuit a C.
The Pipe Dreams of Instant Prince Whippet
2002; 10 songs, 23 minutes
Universal Truths and Cycles
2002; 19 songs, 46 minutes
Mikers:
This past week I gave myself a little extra GBV homework. I went back to Tremblers and Goggles by Rank (an album that I poo-pooed a few reviews ago) and listened to it all the way through a number of times to see if my opinions might change if I let it sink in a bit better. Since I’ve started this process, I’ve always had this nagging feeling that I was making snap judgements about albums (whether positive or negative) based on one or two listens and not really giving each one a fair shake before spouting out my half-baked opinions.
So, what’s the verdict? I’m reluctant to say I’m “happy” about the outcome, but repeated listens to Tremblers and Goggles by Rank hasn’t changed my opinion all that much. There are a couple of good songs there but most fall flat. One of the good ones is Alex Bell, a sort of mini rock opera, a la “A Quick One” by The Who. The other song that I enjoyed was Goggles by Rank which, I realized halfway through the week, is pretty similar to “I Can See for Miles.” Seems like Pollard has been listening to The Who quite a bit recently. Many of the other songs on the album, however, bugged me in some kind of weird way. I thought long and hard and I think I have an explanation. Consider the song Focus on the Flock. It starts out as an upbeat rocker and I’m feeling “ok, this one has potential.” About 20 seconds into it, the rug is yanked out from under you and it slows down, losing all momentum. The rest of the song jumps from one chunk to another without any coherence or path. It feels like I’m being put through a blender of song ideas, as though Pollard took five good songs, chopped each one into 15 second snippets, and then glued all the pieces together randomly. The end result isn’t all that satisfying or memorable and the listener is just bounced around from one mood to another, feeling like they’re yanked in five different directions.
Ugh – that was taxing. Now on to Universal Truths and Cycles from 2002. Looking at the GBV timeline, I see this album is immediately following Do the Collapse and Isolation Drills, both of which are chock full of good, catchy tunes done up with fairly slick production. From the get go, you can hear that Universal Truths has a much different mood than the previous two albums. It feels like GBV is getting back to its roots a bit here, as Universal Truths is definitely not as sweet sounding as the previous two albums. As far as the songwriting is concerned, this is a solid album of well-written tunes. The songs on Universal Truths and Cycles perhaps aren’t as catchy as those on the previous two albums but nearly all deserve repeated listens. Thankfully, there’s no sign of the disconcerting “random chunk” songwriting approach here. Personal highlights from the album include Christian Animation Torch Carriers, which starts out soft and turns into a multi-part juggernaut. The difference here is that each of the chunks contributes to a buildup of energy and emotion from the beginning to the end. The song has a path. Other great tunes include Back to the Lake and Everywhere with Helicopter. There are no “blecch” songs on Universal Truths and Cycles. OK, maybe the whiny singing of “Chey-enne!” on Cheyenne is annoying but that’s about it.
Now moving on to Pipe Dreams of Instant Prince Whippet, also from 2002. This EP, consisting of ten songs, clocks in at a whopping 23 minutes. The EP starts out nicely, with Visit This Place, a good mid-tempo rocker. After that, most of the songs are just OK. They’re not stinkers but none are particularly compelling either. Considering that most of the material from this time period is pretty strong, the majority of the tunes on “Pipe Dreams” sound like ones that didn’t make the cut but were felt to be decent enough for release. Dig Through My Window and Beg for a Wheelbarrow are the best of the lot. Each of the songs on “Pipe Dreams,” with the exception of Visit This Place, have fewer than 20,000 listens on Spotify, so apparently I’m not the only one who thinks that this EP should get a listen here and there but isn’t something one needs to visit repeatedly.
Adjunct Faculty L:
Universal Truths is a formidable album with slower tunes and some outright foot stompers. Starts out with a 40 second humdinger: “Wire Greyhounds,” which segues into the weird “Skin Parade,” with fake non paying-attention fans as he will perfect in the Cash Rivers albums. “Christian Animation Torch Carriers” is a fine enough song, not too memorable, and it did help me crystalize my thoughts about a very specific Pollard songwriting issue: his title are too long for my stupid iPhone. I glance a the phone and Spotify takes a few beats to engage the chyron crawl of the title and my screen goes dark before the last words because Steve Jobs makes you have to have the screen lock before anyone can read your texts about what bar your friends are waiting for you in. Then when you do manage to see the whole Pollard title, it’s so meaningless you can’t remember the first part it so you have to go back to your phone and start the whole process over again. Cheyenne is real toe tapper with an almost Bruce Springsteeny wall-of-soundy production. Two “Human Amusement” songs appear, “Everywhere With Helipcopters” and “Back to the Lake.” “Wings of Thorns” sounds like an outtake from Quadraphenia. Other standouts: “Factory of Raw Essentials.” The eponymous “Universal Truths and Cycles” is a song that makes me very happy. It makes me happy to use the word ‘eponymous’ too.
The Pipe Dreams of Instant Prince Whippet feels like a place holder EP. When I was a young lad I read an interview with Tom Baker in Omni magazine. Tom Baker was the then Doctor Who. Omni was a magazine peddling “Science Fact and Fiction.” A magazine is a what we used to call a blog. It came on paper and a guy with a satchel and a hat would stick it in your mailbox. Anyway, Tom Baker kept using the phrase “whippet-shit” which I didn’t understand then and I don’t understand now—but it stuck with me. Back then only the losers like me watched Doctor Who. I thought if the show got popular, I would be considered a cool person for watching it. Then it did get popular but cool kids only watched the new episodes, anyone who had watched it before was still a losers and not invited to cool parties. We were still whosonas-non-grata. If Pollard had made a better 23 minutes EP than this my mind wouldn’t be wandering this much.
The Bears for Lunch
2012; 19 songs, 43 minutes
Libbers:
One of the things I like about this project is Mike’s musings on the whole notion of being a critic, and his diligence in going back and checking his own initial responses. He’s honest about his doubts and second thoughts. I, on the other hand, did this several years and one global pandemic ago, and all I’m doing is sprucing up my old notes, which were written for myself with no sense that The Completerist would ever demand to see them. (Not counting writing new reviews for the dozen albums Pollard has released since 2020.) With that in mind, here is everything I wrote about The Bears for Lunch:
“Dome Rust a nice little ditty. Not much of an album. Detritus from UFO, released same year?”
Not only is it dismissively brief, I don’t even really understand what I’m talking about. So I’m relistening to Bears as I go over the proofs for my upcoming novel, Book of Grudges, (release date this fall from Spyutin Dyuvil, Brooklyn NYC, put it in your calendar under things to buy). The first time I am moved to take a note is Dome Rust, which is the one thing I wrote about before. I guess at least I’m consistent.
With our Nets in the Corners Glowing is a really pretty little number, along with Waving At Airplanes. A lot of the rest is forgettable, like forgetting to end a parenthetical aside as I just noticed I did in one of the chapters of my novel Book of Grudges, to be released later this year. I’ve been called the Robert Pollard of being lazy, which explains my paltry two books in 55 years output. Mike, I mention you in one of the sections, by name, so you’ve got three days to let me know if you want me to use a pseudonym for you.
Dr M:
I’ve been systematically recording my positive and negative reviews over the lengthy GBV discography and I’m starting to see a pattern here. With the exception of 1987’s Sandbox, I’ve given a positive review to every GBV album from Propeller (1992) through Class Clown Spots a UFO (2012). That’s a pretty impressive stretch, I’d say. There are still five albums during this time period that Dan and I haven’t looked at yet, but based on that track record, it looks like most or all should be pretty good (I’m hoping). After 2012, however, the road gets quite a bit rougher. Of the seven 2013-2022 GBV albums I’ve listened to, I’ve only really liked two – Space Gun (2018) and Styles We Paid For (2020). So far, it seems that a lot of the post-2012 output has been less focused, including a fair number of tunes that could have done with a good bit of tweaking to tighten them up. A fair amount of that might have to do with the crazy-ass number of albums GBV has put out over the past decade, a situation that likely results in a lot of less-than-stellar ideas committed to vinyl. Personally, I’d prefer one album of great songs over three albums where half the tunes miss the mark. They’re Pollard’s tunes, so he can do whatever he wants with them, but I’m just sayin’…
Now, the reason I’m bringing this up in the first place is that The Bears for Lunch – our album of the week – lies right at the cusp of my “consistently good 1992-2012 GBV” and “hit-or-miss 2013-2023 GBV” periods, so it’s perhaps a 50/50 coin toss as to whether this is going to be a good one or not. After a couple of listens, I’m ready to launch my opinions on the world – The Bears for Lunch is a good, no-frills, no-nonsense album. A lot of the songs are relatively laid back. The Corners are Glowing, Have a Jug, and Waking up the Stars are all good acoustic numbers. Waving At Airplanes is a slow, mellow, British Invasion inspired song. A few songs (e.g., Dome Rust and Have a Jug) even harken back to the über lo-fi sound of Vampire on Titus-era GBV. Very enjoyable overall.
I’m not sure what happened between this album and the next one, English Little League, which included a number of songs that I described as “turds” in my now-infamous review a few months back. Creativity is a strange, unpredictable thing though – it seems to run hot and cold.