Guided By Voices – Styles We Paid For

 

Guided By Voices – Styles We Paid For

By

Jesse E. Mullen

You’ve released over 100 albums. You’ve released six albums over the past two years. You’ve also released two double albums since you reunited with your current lineup in late 2016. But your group is more than just statistics. What happens next?

This was the story of Guided By Voices in December of 2020. The band led by the ultra-prolific Robert Pollard were on a hot streak which dated back to their second reunion in 2016. They had already recorded two albums to be released in 2020 by the start of March. But in a year that was anything but normal, some changes had to be made for their third album of the year.

Originally planning to record an all-analog album titled Before Computers live in the studio, the band would ironically record their most digital album yet. Using Pro Tools, file sharing, and five different studios in five different states, each member recorded his parts separately.

Producer Travis Harrison then assembled the recordings at his Serious Business Studios in Brooklyn, NY. Harrison – who also tours with the band as official soundman – has become a sort of “fifth Beatle” to Guided By Voices, producing every album from 2017’s August By Cake to the present.

All of the experience undoubtedly helped Harrison when assembling and mixing tracks recorded from thousands of miles apart. Harrison used the opportunity to experiment in Pro Tools, adding extra production touches not heard on a Guided By Voices record since the more colorful tracks on the early 2019 double album Zeppelin Over China. (an eternity in GBV time.) But fans still had to wonder – how coherent can an album recorded from such a distance really sound?

The album opens with the slow burning “Megaphone Riley.” A chugging rhythm guitar and Pollard’s vocals introduce the track in modest fashion. Gradually, drums and bass come in anthemically, in a way which resembles “Redmen and Their Wives” from 1996’s Under The Bushes Under The Stars. It also uses part of the melody from 2017’s “Whole Tomatoes.”

Lyrically, it’s a rare political commentary from Pollard. With lines such as “Your facts approved, click on/Check our jumbo virus,” Pollard seems to be alluding to misinformation online regarding COVID-19. And the final verse with lines about “building your walls very proudly” seem to refer to the former president Donald Trump.

Pollard uses the lyrics of “They Don’t Play The Drums Anymore” to lament the lack of live drums on modern pop songs. He uses cryptic language, referring to electronic percussion as “electric lily pads on cool blue amazon” while also namechecking famous drummers and pieces of a drum set.

Musically, it features some of the most diverse percussion on a GBV song to date. The guitars and basses drop out before the first verse, giving way to a variety of shakers, congas, and bongos. It all ends with Pollard complaining that today’s youth “sit beating their puds” instead of beating the drums.

Guided By Voices have been in the unique position of having a laundry list of talented drummers through the years – including The Breeders’ Jim “Jimmy Mac” MacPherson. But if MacPherson is the gold standard, current drummer Kevin March is easily silver medalist. March’s fills aren’t quite as manic as MacPherson, and he lacks MacPherson’s flow, but he has a rock-solid sense of rhythm and tempo.

On “Electronic Windows To Nowhere,” Pollard writes about artificial intelligence, seemingly dismissing it with the titular line. Pollard has always been dismissive of modern technology – see 2003’s “Useless Inventions” – but like on “They Don’t Play The Drums Anymore,” his target is much more specific.

Ironically – as pointed out by GBV podcaster Jeff Gomez – Pollard and the band would not have been able to make the album without modern technology. Without cloud-based storage, Pro Tools, or computers, the album would’ve had to have been shelved until it was safe to record face-to-face. And Pollard is famous for never slowing down.

“Slaughterhouse” resembles the dark dirges of Please Be Honest, but with the better musicianship of the current lineup. Lyrically, the track is Pollard’s “Meat Is Murder,” describing a slaughterhouse in cryptic terms. Lines like “they taught the babies to smoke” could have a double meaning – smoked meat, slaughterhouse, get it?

Industrial noises and clanging sounds recall earlier tracks such as “The Caterpillar Workforce” and “The Grasshopper Eaters.” Gillard’s three note guitar solo recalls the sound of Joy Division. It is an almost dreadfully hopeless tune, one which – while enjoyable in certain moods – will have the listener glad when it’s over.

The next track brings some much-needed optimism. “Endless Seafood” begins with a bouncy, descending chord progression which never quite crosses the line into cheesiness. Pollard uses the concept of “endless seafood” as a metaphor for “plenty of fish in the sea” with regards to love.

It’s the kind of cheerful pessimism that R.E.M. perfected on 1987’s “The One I Love.” Pollard sings that “you can be hungry, but empty inside.” An almost perfect anti-love song, it ends with swooping strings, and a skillful decrease in tempo.

On the other end of the spectrum is “Stops.” A beautiful love song about how feelings evolve as we age, Pollard uses a succession of bus stops as a metaphor. Doug Gillard turns in an absolutely gorgeous guitar part, recalling Neil Young during his On The Beach era.

Speaking of excellent Gillard guitar, “Mr. Child” features one of the albums best riffs. The track opens with a Gillard riff which can only be described as having the gusto and confidence of Keith Richards. Pollard describes a Peter Pan-esque character who attempts to stay young forever. But as we all know, this isn’t possible.

The track ends with a three-part prog suite. It slows to crawl with pounding drums and melodic bass, before building back up into an explosive finale. A thrilling would be single, it is the perfect bridge to the latter half of the album.

As the album gets closer to the end, Pollard becomes more obsessed with the passage of time. “Time Without Looking” is an absolutely gorgeous ballad. Gillard arpeggiates every note on his Les Paul in crystal clarity, before a midtempo acoustic guitar joins in with the rest of the band.

Pollard sings that he knows “the time without looking” before cryptically asking “where do they go? After the goldrush? After the screentest?” An obvious nod to Neil Young and a possible nod to the movies of his youth, Pollard seems to be looking back through the decades of his life.

It’s a haunting commentary on aging, which is put into sharp relief by album closer “When Growing Was Simple.” Bob treats this tune as a memoir of sorts, talking about his school days, his discovery of his athletic abilities, and his maturation as an artist.

A cold, almost industrial tune, it is less accessible than “Time Without Looking.” Still, Bob’s haunting vocal and lyrics when combined with Mark Shue’s Codeine-like bassline send chills down the spine of the listener. After a full album of twists and turns, Pollard gives the listener a chance to meditate on what they’ve heard.

While many bands floundered in 2020 or had to rely on Bandcamp handouts to stay afloat, Guided By Voices proved there was a third option – making three kickass albums and capping the year off with the strongest one. Styles We Paid For may have been recorded under different means than originally intended, but the end result was one of the group’s best outings.

GBV Inc./2020

 

 

 

Smudge - Manilow

 

Smudge – Manilow

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

Musical partnerships are hard to come by. You meet another artist you really connect with and you make records together until falling out, drifting apart, or one of you dies. But what happens when the partnership is forged over thousands of miles?

So was the problem Tom Morgan was dealing with in 1993. He’d connected with Evan Dando of The Lemonheads in 1991 and co-written their It’s A Shame About Ray album. He was also in a supergroup with Dando called Godstar. But there was one particular problem with the relationship. Dando was in Boston. Morgan was in Sydney, Australia.

There was no way to sustain a functioning band with the two. So, they did the only logical thing they could. They split apart. Not entirely, mind you. Morgan’s songs appeared on the next Lemonheads album Come On Feel. Dando’s cowrites appear on Morgan’s next project’s debut album.

And just what was that project? Morgan formed the power trio Smudge in late 1991. They were modeled after the American indie rock sounds of Dinosaur Jr., Husker Du, and – yes – The Lemonheads. In retrospect, they were the perfect time capsule for their era.

Morgan had a warm speak-sing quality to his voice which resembled a more melodic Lou Reed. Drummer Alison Galloway had a snappy method of playing which resembled Grant Hart. And permeant bassist Adam Yee had a melodic method of playing, acting as the non-existent rhythm guitar.

But while their early singles were excellent, fans had to be wondering – what would their album sound like? And could Morgan match his previous work with Dando? Both of these questions would be answered when Smudge released Manilow in 1994.

“Superhero” is evocative of Dinosaur Jr, with J. Mascis-styled leads all over the track. It starts out in aggressive start-stop territory with pounding drums and guitars, but then moves into punk-pop territory in the verse. But the chorus is especially catchy.

The lyrics pay tribute to basement punk shows and low ceilings. Morgan is in full free-form mode here. Not spelling everything out explicitly, but still giving the audience enough to work with.

“Pulp” and “Ingrown” both display the sweetness of Dando’s influence. Jangling three-chord ditties with staccato monosyllabic verses, Morgan has written a pair of pop-punk tunes for the ages. Relationship issues seem to be the subject du jour this time around. On “Pulp” he blames himself for the failings, whereas on “Ingrown” he is being emotionally manipulated.

Morgan has the rare ability to make these tunes catchy rather than depressing. The tightness of the band is also something to be praised. The way the trio lock into the songs and create a perfect din speaks volumes to their musical talents. And what would a Smudge album be without a couple of Dando collaborations?

The song “Down About It” would prove to be one of the catchiest pop-punk tunes The Lemonheads would ever record, with double tracked Dando vocals and quick chord changes. But the Smudge version here is a bit different. A slow drumbeat and slightly twangy version of the opening chords introduce the track.

The drumbeat steadies at mid-tempo, and Morgan sings the words with a slight country drawl. This blends nicely with his usual way of singing and gives the track an unpolished charm which The Lemonheads version lacked. However, it is not as immediately catchy. For this reason, I give The Lemonheads version a slight edge. But both are great.

Dando’s other collaboration was actually fully written by Morgan, but also appeared on a contemporary Lemonheads release. The track – “Divan” – is jangly country rock at its best. While he didn’t write it, Dando’s presence is felt in the delivery. The lyrics describe lazy days on a sofa, but the music evokes the wistful feelings of the summer sun.

“Desmond” is an interesting excursion for the album. Sung by drummer Alison Galloway, it has a dreamy quality not heard elsewhere. Her voice also has a more pronounced Australian accent than Morgan’s which gives it a different feel. Lyrically, Galloway is lamenting the type of men she attracts, and humorously considers giving up relationships – as if they were a vice like smoking or drinking.

On “Scary Cassettes,” Morgan pays tribute to one of his contemporary heroes. Lou Barlow of Sebadoh had a big impact on the American indie rock which Smudge took inspiration from. Musically it’s another fast catchy pop song. The guitars fill in the gaps in Morgan’s minimal lyrics. Barlow would later return the favor, covering “Down About It” on a Smudge tribute album.

But perhaps “Impractical Joke” is the best of the bunch. A steady drumbeat and ominous three-chord progression introduce the track. Morgan’s voice enters and he uses the Dando trick of substituting words for similar phrasing. He describes a breakdown in relations between lovers, and the man’s attempt to regain the attention of his girlfriend.

But the track is not just clever wordplay. The trio lock into a tight groove with strong drumming by Galloway, and melodic, almost majestic guitar by Morgan. It’s the kind of track that bands build an entire career on and a song that should’ve taken Smudge into international stardom.

Sadly, they remained cult heroes in Australia until their eventual disbandment in 1999. But not all was lost for Smudge. They eventually reunited in 2002 and have continued to tour sporadically since then. However, they have not released a new album since 1998.

While some musical partnerships spark great success, this is not always the case. Sometimes great bands are left by the wayside, while whatever trend of the time dominates the charts. Such was the case with Smudge. While they may only be known to a small audience, they released an absolute classic in Manilow.

Half a Cow/1994