by Jack Peterson (@jacktweeterson)
It’s the stuff of cliche, sure -- Robert Pollard, the frenetically brilliant leader / creator / puppet-master of Dayton’s cult heroes Guided By Voices, writes a lot of songs. A lot of songs, a lot of albums, a lot of music, even a countless array of alter egos and band identities that are impossible to fully grasp onto for a listener without time and brain cells to spare. It is important to remember, though, that Pollard’s projects of the last four decades number not only thousands of songs, but at least several hundred lexical reference points for the last half-dozen generations of the ever-symbiotic genre of indie rock. Despite Pollard’s fractured knee that led to the cancellation of several shows late last year, 2023 marks the start of GBV’s fortieth year as a band since their humble beginnings being laughed off the stages of their local bars, and even if the band couldn’t tour upon its release (or at least not at the same kick-reliant level), they couldn’t start that milestone year without yet another triumphant album.
Last year’s Crystal Nuns Cathedral had a somewhat obvious and by-the-numbers approach to classic rock melodies, and although the special sauce that fills up every last Pollard release still carried it to contention for one of 2022’s better rock records, it was their follow-up, a mere four months later, that provided equal portions of answers and new questions about the Guided By Voices legacy. We’ve always known that songs outnumbered by a two-minute kitchen timer were the specialty and reliable filler of a Guided By Voices album, but the slow crawl towards hi-fi production marked by the last decade of their career had to culminate in a certain unexpected climax.
Tremblers and Goggles By Rank exposed the deep roots of Pollard’s songwriting, his ability to build a tune and the orchestra he commands into epic crescendos surpassing five and six minutes, and proggian wonders that name-drop Big Star’s frontmen in a manner that could not be more on-the-nose. Anyway, Pollard says that La La Land represents a direct follow-up, or as he says, “somewhat of a companion piece… [La La Land] continues to explore a path of diversity in styles and in longer, more adventurous song structures”. It’s clear, too, that a six-minute track wouldn’t fit any better than a sixth finger on GBV’s mid-90s output, so in order to continue down the path of innovation, it feels refreshing and necessary here.
On the other hand, the singles that preceded the release elucidate what thick guitar tones and thunderous vocal deliveries have become irreplaceable in modern era Guided By Voices. On “Instinct Dwelling,” a lyrically confounding verse gives way to a chorus that may soon become a live hallmark-- “Until then, keep us here!” Pollard shouts as if demanding the same for his spot in the indie canon, and the virtuosic Doug Gillard answers, instantly, with four strikes of his strings that lend the words urgency. Alternatively, “Queen of Spaces,” is among the closest GBV tunes to an emo ballad, channeling an opening riff shockingly reminiscent of Car Seat Headrest’s “Sober To Death,” but its sly entry to a vocal track pushes those comparisons away.
On the rest of the record, Pollard alternates between comedy - the bouncy riff of “Cousin Jackie” is suddenly sung by His Bobness, switching from a three-note lead to Pollard literally singing “bow wow wow” before the original line could get old - and self-reference. As for the latter, this record shines when it begins to dodge the expected GBV lens - that of the micro - to indulge itself in the macro. “Wild Kingdom” is a gem in this record’s crown for beginning its journey as a lo-fi hum, reminding the listener of an early Pollard recording, wherein the vocals mutter about “an invitation to suffering,” and transitioning as quickly as possible into its most comfortable mid-fi realm, all the while presenting a rare political song for the band. Whether the “vaccinations” and “baptisms” described are purely metaphorical or, more intriguingly, a send-up or religious hypocrisy, will likely never be explained outright. As the album reaches for those higher, larger stars, it exposes its purpose.
See, Pollard may release a lot of music, but his commitment to simultaneously (and sometimes indulgently) navigating many separate corners of his own signature sound leads us to assume that he is never done searching for what sound or album or song might, actually and substantially, define his music. The questions that are often asked of long-tenured “legacy” artists are a) whether a new release holds up to releases from years past and b) what target market the artist is looking to strike--old fans or new? Of course these new Guided By Voices albums are roughly as good as those released twenty years ago, but answering the second question is not as easy. Is Pollard looking for new Guided By Voices fans in 2023, or is he continuing to move at this pace in order to regain access to the Guided By Voices fan within himself? Forty years in, Robert Pollard the musician has nothing left to attempt, nothing left to really try for the first time. As he clearly sees it, though, he has plenty left to perfect.
While the micro-level -- of songwriting, song length, experimentation, and even the concept of being a working musician -- has naturally remained Pollard’s stubborn forte, his work takes on a whole new life when we zoom out upon it. If Pollard’s journey through La La Land was never meant to be, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. If his defining legacy is that he tried everything there is to try along his chosen path, the path continues. Obviously, Pollard will continue to pump out quality LPs until he decides it’s time to stop. Until then, keep us here.