Dayton rocks
The many voices of Guided by Voices
by Jonathan Perry
I'm in the middle of leaving a message for Guided by Voices head honcho Robert
Pollard on his family answering machine when a voice, breathless and flustered,
interrupts. "Hello! Hey, it's me, Bob," he says, his slightly hoarse twang
immediately recognizable. "Sorry. I was in the other room. An individual has
some rare records he said he'd give me if I taped a private performance for
him, so that's what I was doing." It's 10:30 a.m. and Bob Pollard is already at
work on another song.
Although most of the indie-rock world outside Pollard's hometown of Dayton
caught on to Guided by Voices following the release of their lo-fi masterpiece
Bee Thousand (Scat), in 1994, Pollard was writing songs long before
anybody was paying attention. And he's likely to continue doing so whether or
not he has an audience. Pollard estimates he's penned some 5000 tunes -- most
of which he keeps, literally, inside a suitcase that's packed with demo
cassettes. So in theory he has enough material to fill at least another couple
dozen GbV albums, not to mention the solo discs he's taken to releasing more
recently.
Pollard's latest is Waved Out (Matador), which is credited as a solo
album. Despite promotional claims that four-track Bob is finally getting
comfortable with a formal studio setting and indulging his passions for Cheap
Trick and prog rock, Waved Out doesn't sound terribly different from the
last couple of GbV discs. (A slicker Bob may yet appear when former Car Ric
Ocasek takes over the production of the next GbV album, which is scheduled for
release early next year.) That said, the hooks do seem to be getting sharper
with every new Pollard offering, and there's been less and less gray static and
fuzz to cut through in order to hear the glorious sunburst melodies he writes.
It helped that he ditched most of his backing musicians last year and recruited
Cleveland's Cobra Verde as his new support band, though that arrangement has
since fallen through.
At age 40, Pollard is the first to admit that he's older than much of his
audience. "But it doesn't seem to bother the kids. I think they look at us like
we're their silly drunken uncles. To me there's no reason to stop doing this
until my voice gives out or my hip breaks." In fact, Pollard's hoping to take a
new Guided by Voices line-up on a first world tour early next year. He says
he'll be getting longtime creative foil Tobin Sprout, who quit the band last
year for family reasons and released his own Moonflower Plastic (Welcome to
My Wigwam), on Matador, back in the GbV fold full-time. They've talked
about making a record together, but who knows? Keeping tabs on the GbV extended
family tree is as exhausting as trying to collect the band's singles in a
timely fashion.
"Well, at least it's slowed down these days -- not by my choice, but at the
request of my label [Matador]," Pollard explains. "They asked me to stop
releasing so many songs and take up fishing or something. The important thing
to them, I guess, is not to call too many things Guided by Voices. Some people
think this overwhelms the consumer too much." Hence the solo stuff. "It's my
scheme, basically, of getting more GbV records out there."
In the meantime, some of Pollard's former bandmates have gotten busy with
projects of their own. Dave Doughman, who turns up playing guitar on Waved
Out, is also part of Swearing at Motorists, a duo with drummer Don
Thrasher. Their new The Fear of Low Flying Cloud (Spare Me Records)
should appeal to anyone who's enjoyed GbV's lo-fi pop. Doughman and Thrasher
certainly follow Pollard's example of home-baked hummability and brevity --
The Fear of Low Flying Clouds features 12 tunes that clock in at a mere
20 minutes and 47 seconds.
Also from the GbV camp comes the recent EP Search for Omega Minus
(Albert Ayler's Jukebox Records), by Terrifying Experience, whose line-up
features former Guided by Voices windmilling guitarist Mitch Mitchell. The disc
sounds as if it had been recorded while the principals were tapping a keg --
something that should come as no surprise to GbV fans. There are other echoes
of Mitchell's former band, including its modest length (16 minutes) and the
fact that four of its five tracks were recorded by Waved Out engineer
John Shough at the same studio Pollard frequents, Cro-Magnon. Mostly, though,
both Mitchell's Terrifying Experience and Doughman's Swearing at Motorists
sound like well-intentioned tributes to the real thing. And when the real thing
has a suitcase of 5000 songs waiting to be sung, why not just wait for his next
album? In Robert Pollard's case, another one should be along any minute now.