Guided by Voices at 40
In which your humble servant offers an exhaustive playlist that largely avoids obvious choices in an attempt to capture the breadth and depth of Robert Pollard's genius
This year is the 40th anniversary of my favorite band, Guided by Voices, and the group is celebrating with two star-studded concerts this weekend in leader Robert Pollard's native Dayton, Ohio. I decided against going, but the Facebook posts from fellow fans making the trek have caused me to at least do some wall-to-wall GBV listening this week.
After seeing a few posts, like Steven Hyden's "Beginner's Guide to Guided by Voices" on Uproxx, I wanted to put together my own playlist. But this one differs in that it is not packed with whatever passes for hits for a band that's never had one, or even designed to bring new fans into the fold like Hyden's piece.
Instead, I wanted to create a list that would capture a bit of the evolution, eclecticism, and range of the band over its four-decade career. The result is something that I find immensely satisfying, but which might not even grab the ear of other rabid fans. While there are some consensus classics — such as the trio of albums that earned the band most of its mainstream attention: Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, and Under the Bushes, Under the Stars — some fans are willing to go the mat for something that just doesn't connect with others. Then there are the few who can justify every utterance from Pollard (and with well more than 100 albums to his credit, there are many utterances).
But rather than cause friction, it just means there is something for everyone. Pollard has enough music that you could have several rabid fans whose favorites don't overlap, who might not have even gotten around to hearing what is unimpeachable canon to someone else. Another hallmark of Pollard's music is that something that doesn't work for you today might suddenly click a year from now.
For this list, I chose one song from each of 37 albums, spanning the debut LP, 1986's Devil Between My Toes, through Welshpool Frillies from this July. Three songs taken from compilations or EPs round out the 40. There are songs that fans would consider hits (though with no overlap with the only real best of compilation in the catalog, 2003's Human Amusements at Hourly Rates), and a few deeper cuts. There are minute-long lo-fi gems, sprawling, multi-part prog excursions, tight pop songs, and chugging riff rockers.
This is just one way to go. You could easily assemble a playlist of short poppy songs that might make you believe this is the best band in the world (which is how many of us started), or a playlist showing the band to be purveyors of lengthy prog rock explorations, or one full of lo-fi tunes that make early Pavement and Sebadoh sound polished, or one jammed with arena-ready anthems. And that's just Guided by Voices. Another might feature only Pollard's solo work, or his side projects, or… the list goes on and on. He is certainly the most accomplished songwriter of our time, so there is always something new to discover, no matter how deep you may have gone before.
This does seem to skew toward recent work more than most playlists simply because the band has been more prolific of late. The current configuration of the group has issued 14 albums (including two doubles) in six years, compared with the 15 albums in 17 years from the first era of the band.
So, here we go, 40 songs in an hour and a half. You can check out the full playlist below or here on Spotify.
Hey Hey, Spaceman from Devil Between My Toes. 1987. Yes, it is clear from this debut that Pollard had heard R.E.M., and that he loved pop music.
"Long Distance Man" from Sandbox. 1987. A rare acoustic song with harmonies.
"The Great Blake Street Canoe Race" from Self-Inflicted Aerial Nostalgia.1989. More harmonies and a hint at the multi-part song structure that was to come.
"The Hard Way" from Same Place the Fly Got Smashed. 1990. While the other songs so far are more quiet, GBV rocked from the beginning. Here is your first taste as a pretty standard bar band rocker elevated by Pollard's vocal.
"Quality of Armor" from Propeller. 1992. While I'm trying to avoid "hits," that's hard to do with this album. Created as a sort of kiss off to a disinterested world, this is the album that actually earned the interest that has kept GBV in the studio and on the road to this day. On top of that, Pollard seems to have inadvertently penned a slogan for the modern GOP: "The worst defense is intelligence. The best defense is belligerence."
"Jar of Cardinals" from Vampire on Titus. 1993. This is where I came on board thanks to a record store clerk's suggestion. Given a chance to build on the interest generated by Propeller, Pollard offered an album of fairly abrasive, lo-fi tunes. Because the CD appended Propeller's tracks, those connected with me immediately while the VoT tracks needed time to settle in.
"Volcano Divers" from the Fast Japanese Spin Cycle EP. 1994. When the world finally caught up with Pollard, it found an artist with a backlog of material he was only too happy to offer up .The result was a few years where each visit to the record store found a new EP on the racks. FJSC is a favorite, its songs drawn from the same pool that led to the band's breakthrough masterpiece.
"Smothered in Hugs" from Bee Thousand. 1994. This is where everyone got on board, and the album still routinely makes "best albums of (insert era here)" lists. There are better known (and loved) songs, but this one hits hard for me, particularly when surrounded by fellow fans belting it out at a live show.
"Deathtrot and Warlock Riding a Rooster" from King Shit and the Golden Boys. 1995. After the success of Bee Thousand, the band's record label, Scat, reissued all of the previous albums in a boxed set cleverly titled Box, and included this album of unreleased tracks as a bonus.
"Blimps Go 90" from Alien Lanes. 1996. Some fans claim this as their favorite, and it's difficult to argue. Packed with 28 short songs, nearly all of them built around one gargantuan hook, it is a killer. This one overcomes a warbling violin (?) with a strong melody and an insistent bass line.
"Drag Days" from Under the Bushes Under the Stars. 1996. A favorite tune from my favorite album. I've always found this a perfect blend of the charm of the band's lo-fi past and the fidelity of its later work.
"Cocksoldiers and Their Postwar Stubble" from the Sunfish Holy Breakfast EP. 1996. Released on the same day as another EP, Plantations of Pale Pink, it shows Pollard's prolificacy. Just months after the packed UTBUTS, he issues 16 new songs on two EPs… and then drops a 21-track LP five months later.
"Jane of the Walking Universe" from Mag Earwig. 1997. Some early GBV fans wondered what the band's anthemic songs would sound like if recorded in a regular studio rather than the guitarist's basement. While this wasn't exactly the Beatles at Abbey Road, Mag Earwig does for the first time offer a GBV album that had the same fire and ferocity that fans had long enjoyed at live shows.
"Liquid Indian" from Do the Collapse.1999. And then the band went for it. A bigger label, a real studio, and Ric Ocasek in the producer's chair. It's the most polished (and thus divisive) album in the band's catalog. I love it, but I'm also glad it was a blip in the catalog. Pollard's music works best when presented with a bit of grit. Despite that, the chorus here, with its synthesizers and stacked Pollard backing vocals, still gives me chills.
"Run Wild" from Isolation Drills. 2001. A better, more organic stab at the big time. Rob Schnapf produced, and seemed more intent than Ocasek on highlighting the band's raw power.
"Pretty Bombs" from Universal Truths and Cycles. 2002. Back to the indie leagues for the band, but some of the fidelity remains. One of a handful of albums that had to grow on me, but which now reveals hidden gems like this when I pull it out for a listen.
"Useless Inventions" from Earthquake Glue. 2003. To me, this felt like a band lacking passion. Several of the songs were as good as ever, but the performances seemed a bit rote. The usual sparkle had given way to a workmanlike quality.
"Huffman Prairie Flying Field" from Half Smiles of the Decomposed. 2004. Given my feelings about the previous album, I was not surprised that this was announced as the band's last. Pollard felt the band had run its course, and they would go out on a high note with an album that was more spirited. This album closer felt like a fitting epitaph.
This is a fitting midpoint for the playlist, because GBV took eight years off. That's a bit confusing, because Pollard never went away, and by this point, Guided by Voices was just one brand under which he released music. He kept up the robust solo career that began in 1996, as well as several side projects, most of which sounded a lot like GBV.
In 2010, the band's record label for most of its career, Matador Records, celebrated its 21st birthday with a concert in Las Vegas. Pollard reunited what came to be called "the classic lineup" of the band, the one that performed, more or less, (there wasn't really a stable lineup at that point) during the Bee Thousand era. The reunited group toured after that, and hope against hope, started to record again.
"Hang Mr. Kite" from Let's Go Eat the Factory. 2012. This first album for GBV in 8 years (and first time this lineup had recorded a full album together), it was a bit tentative, but had high points as well as moments like this, which showed the band in nuanced a gear it didn't previously have.
"Class Clown Spots a UFO" from Class Clown Spots a UFO. 2012. Sometimes I just opted to go with a hit (there's no compilation to compete with from this era). Again, the band's reach seems to have aligned with its grasp over the long layoff, and this sprightly pop song is the result.
"White Flag" from The Bears for Lunch. 2012. You'll notice these three LPs all came out in 2012, which was a frenetic pace, even for Pollard. This is the acknowledged best of the (spoiler alert) six LPs this lineup would produce in three years, though the sound is tougher and less poppy. Through this stretch, I'm tempted to share songs contributed by guitarist Tobin Sprout, whose tracks from these LPs gathered together would be better than any one of these six, but this is a Pollard-centric exercise, so you get this one instead.
"Xeno Pariah" from English Little League. 2013. I'm leaning on the obvious singles through this stretch. I like these albums, but they haven't aged as well. Pollard shows that he needs little more than a good riff and decent melody to create a toe-tapper.
"The Littlest League Possible" from Motivational Jumpsuit. 2014. A song that finishes before most even get off the mark. Who needs a second run through the chorus?
"Pan Swimmer" from Cool Planet. 2014. There are more obvious tracks to pick here, but this slim rocker shows how much Pollard can do with what is essentially a riff and a vocal.
Pollard abruptly pulled the plug on this lineup, and I'll leave it to others to delve into the interpersonal politics at play. Pollard hadn't stopped releasing solo LPs during this period, so it seemed he would seamlessly slide back in that direction. But after two under his own names and an uneven trio of LPs with a group called Ricked Wicky in 2015, he reunited GBV. Sort of.
"Zodiac Companion" from Please Be Honest.2016. Pollard played everything on this LP, and when it was done, he decided it felt like a Guided by Voices record and decided to call it such. Never mind that a record with "GBV" on the sleeve sells better than one with "Robert Pollard." Thing is, he's not wrong. It has the ramshackle charm of the band, and he seemed so into the idea that he quickly assembled a group to tour as GBV. Again, a few more HR issues that I won't bore you with, but he landed on the quintet that continues to record and tour at a blazing pace. This LP is a sort of interregnum between two periods, but I'll lump it with the latter because it was clearly the impetus for this run.
"5° On The Inside" from August by Cake. 2017. Much as with the first album from the reunited "classic lineup," this feels tentative, a band that hasn't yet found its footing. There are highlights, but it's uneven and I don't pull it out much. Some of the highlights are songs written and recorded by the other four musicians, who contribute 9 of the 32 tracks on this double album.
"Diver Dan" from How Do You Spell Heaven. 2017. This is where the new lineup seemed to gel and certainly won me over. The group has learned its strengths and plays to them, offering a muscular backing for Pollard's strong melodies.
"I Love Kangaroos" from Space Gun. 2018. Fans herald this as a classic, but I find it about as good as the albums surrounding it. Pollard says his music captures the four "P"s: punk, pop, prog and psych. Somewhere in there is another common quality: absurdity.
"The Rally Boys" from Zeppelin Over China. 2019. The band started 2019 with a surprisingly consistent double album. It was the first of three for the year. That's how we have 10 songs from 10 albums left despite this being only four years ago.
"Cohesive Scoops" from Warp and Woof. 2019 Pollard issued four six-song EPs in 2018 and 2019, and then resequenced those 24 tracks as W+W. This was a return to the shorter, poppier sound of the band's heyday, though with higher fidelity.
"Heavy Like the World" from Sweating the Plague. 2019. When you put out three albums a year, you have enough material to separate them out by style and feel. This album has a darker, heavier tone, but the hooks remain.
"Volcano" from Surrender Your Poppy Field. 2020. There are so many GBV albums from this era that I almost missed this one, the first of three in 2020. This is a nice opportunity to hear Pollard flex his slow jam muscles. Would love to hear a few more Ocasek-esque massed vocals on that chorus, but that's nitpicking.
"Bunco Men" from Mirrored Aztec. 2020. One thing I haven't yet mentioned is that Pollard is also a prolific collage artist, and nearly all of GBV's album covers are his creations. This is an exception, featuring a stunning drawing from a Dayton artist. Another note: Pollard loves to revisit old songs -- either in whole or as a way to mine bits for future tracks. In this case, he revisits a 25-year-old composition that had been compiled on one of his four 100-song Suitcase boxed sets that captured unreleased tracks, demos and other ephemera.
"Mr. Child" from Styles We Paid For. 2020. This feels like the point at which Pollard grew a little tired of past lineups. But unlike those past LPs that signaled a break, this relative lull is followed by some of the strongest albums of the band's career.
"The Batman Sees the Ball" from Earthman Blues. 2021. The GBV marketing team always has some angle to sell a new LP, usually related to the way Pollard wrote or the band recorded the songs, and I can't even recall what the hook was here. Suffice to say it's another strong collection of songs.
"Dance of Gurus" from It's Not Them. It Couldn't Be Them. It is Them. 2021. In contrast to albums of old with 24 minute-long songs, the Pollard of this new decade offered multi-part suites that combined what might have been a handful of songs into longer strings that allow him room for more detailed narratives.
"Mad River Man" from Crystal Nuns Cathedral. 2022. A companion (in my mind) to Sweating the Plague,a collection of longer, darker songs leavened by what passed for a single or two.
"Alex Bell" from Tremblers and Goggles by Rank. 2022. Here, Pollard really takes a swing at something grand, offering a sprawling (well, for Pollard anyway) homage to Big Star founders Alex Chilton and Chris Bell.
“Cousin Jackie” from La La Land. 2023. Finally, we have made it to the current year. Some albums seem to excite the fan base more than others, and this is one of them. It hasn’t really clicked for me yet, but there are highlights like this that show Pollard still has a way with a melody.
“Romeo Surgeon” from Welshpool Frillies. 2023. And we’re caught up… for now. I long ago stopped wishing Pollard had an editor or anything else that might lead to greater success, but I do wonder about the bland cover and odd title for one of his strongest albums in years. In some ways this hearkens back to the sound of the early 2000s when the band shed the polish of Do the Collapse without losing the power behind it.
With it only being September, I assume we’ll get one more LP before the calendar flips to 2024. Wherever Pollard goes from here, whether with this crew or others, I will follow.
Bonus: Check out this great comic from Iowa City musician and comic artist Sam Locke Ward. From the August issue of Little Village, our local free monthly. Ward, a fellow Pollard fan, lists his own favorites. While you’re at it, check out Sam’s latest LP with the legendary Mike Watt, Purple Pie Plow.