Earth Man Blues (2021)

Earth Man Blues

 (2021, Guided by Voices Inc.)

In the Robert Pollardsphere, the concept LP is a bridge that’s been crossed several times. While often not overtly rooted in any tangible concept, Pollard (ever the rock aficionado), has slapped that label onto various records that seemingly contain little to no theme. It’s part of what makes the snaking creative labyrinth of his colossal body of work so enjoyable, intriguing.

With the concept record in mind, we find ourselves at a hodgepodge of ideas smashed together as only Pollard and Guided by Voices can present. Beyond his penchant for assigning elusive meaning to some of his LPs, Pollard is a collector of his own ideas strewn across notebooks, cut-and-paste collages, and dusty cassette tapes straight from the boombox. Armed with a collection of such ideas, and always looking for new ways to assemble his art, Pollard went different route in constructing GBV’s frenetic LP Earth Man Blues.

A collection of discarded songs, Earth Man Blues resurrects some of Pollard’s scraps from recent years and gives them new, often exciting life. It’s an assemblage of nearly lost bastard songs and snippets redone and remotely recorded from several locations across the US (including Kevin March’s drums being put to tape outdoors from a Montclair, NJ parking garage). To top it off, Pollard assembles the liner notes and artwork to mimic that of a stage play with the essence of a Playbill. The front cover boasts “John A. Morrison Production” (Pollard’s elementary alma matter in Dayton, a school that has since been bulldozed), as we embark on twisted, small town public school theater.

Pollard may not always be profound, but he is always intriguing. And after a potent 2020, GBV with stalwart producer Travis Harrison have delivered a somewhat confounding record; a times a return to basics, other times venturing off into bold new experiments. It delights, it frustrates, it keeps you coming back for more looking to uncover more pieces of the puzzle, much like GBV themselves.

 

SIDE A:

Made Man- 2 For an LP of discarded songs, this opener stalls out of the gate as one of the most trash heap worthy GBV fragments come to life. Practically one verse, so cloying that it somehow infects your brain over time. Interrupted by an extraneous orchestral bridge that drops in from left field, making for a maddeningly out of place yet exciting moment. Damned if you don’t walk around whistling this blink-and-you-miss-it tune after few spins though.

The Disconnected Citizen- 4 A waltzy, breezy ballad carried by more lush orchestral backing. Pollard sounds warbled, frail but in a positive way. The whole track feels triumphant, yet dusty, like an old photograph unearthed in an attic to see the light of day. A potent number that takes it time, allowing you to interchangeably raise a fist or shed a tear. 

The Batman Sees the Ball- 3 Lean repetitive riff rocker devoid of any extra baggage. Carried on the merit of said lead riff, this one feels mostly like a no harm no foul (no pun intended) track. It’s in the pocket groove gives sculpts it, but almost feels as if the song suffers from a lack of rock propulsion. It hits more like a mid-00s Tobias track, missing that certain something that fails to push this over the edge into greatness.

Dirty Kid School- 3 A rare moment of GBV swagger mixed with a healthy dose of schizophrenia; from the drums to the guitar work, complete with Pollard's free-swinging vocal lines. Travis Harrison, ever the mad scientist juggles ideas around making this an aural free-for-all full of daredevil instrumental changes, complete with Zappa-esque percussive bridge. It's a head scratcher in some of the best ways. 

Trust Them Now- 5 A propulsive pop track that leans into punk territory with a healthy dose of Pollardian pop melancholy. Uncle Bob lays down a low registered vocal track that flows with easy, imbedding itself in one’s brain. The undeniable anthem and new classic of the record that makes you wonder what could’ve possibly kept this off any past records in the first place. 

Lights Out In Memphis (Egypt)- 4 If you're looking for a multi-layered progrocker, strap on your jetpacks, zip up your jumpsuits and fall face first down the looking glass as this nearly 5 minute monument of rock unfolds before you. This one takes its time to even get started, eventually jump cutting from verse to chorus. However, once those choruses hit, and eventually repeat, it becomes a slow burn cause for celebration. If you stick it out and revisit, you may find the anticipation of the track, combined with the instrumental swelling make this too promising to pass up. 

 

SIDE B:

Free Agents- 5 Another new GBV classic! Steady hook filled verses build upon each other until the song eventually feels as if it takes flight thanks to Gillard's chiming leads and Pollard's building intensity. By the time we hit the second half of the song, the band feels aloft, Pollard bellowing dreamy worthy hooks with ease and purpose.

Sunshine Girl- 4 "Sunshine Girl" feels like a large chunk of the GBV ethos crammed together in a 2 and half minute package of ear candy. At its core, the song is a delightfully mixed bag of waltzing folky jangle pop. However, it's bookended by a hell of a pair of mid-fi psychrock snippets that makes you beg to wonder what wondrous roads they could've taken us down as well if expanded upon.  

Wave Starter- 3 Rolling toms, pounding snare, and gurgling bass line give this declarative run of the mill track a strong frame work. Perfectly fine song, almost destined to get lost in the sea of tunes. Feels like a potential mid set live song Pollard insists on keeping on setlist for the long haul. 

Ant Repellent- 2 One of those GBV moments in common with a Circus Devils’ idea than a GBV song. The song is essentially a slow chug and stomp while Pollard and gang annoyingly deadpan "Ant Repellent. Ant repel ant." A few moving parts, including a brief stoner jam ending that is a breath of fresh air, but never feels it has much purpose or direction. 

Margaret Middle School- 4 One simplistic minute of midtempo rock given life padded nicely with vocal pop hooks that flow with easy. Gets stuck in your head with little notice. Joyfully short and sweet for a quick revisit. 

I Bet Hippy- 4 GBV tackle this track with welcomed minimalism. Pollard sounds somewhat vulnerable but surefooted. Mark Shue plays a descending bass line that sounds like dense a melodic avalanche of melancholy slowly rolling down the hillside backed by brittle guitars. Has the power to slyly sink its teeth into your psyche. 

Test Pilot- 1 After listening to the LP about 20 times, I still can never recall what "Test Pilot" exactly sounds like. It manages the rare feat of feeling like a black void on the LP; a song that simply can't be recalled. Pollard sort of sneers over forgettable guitar licks backed by stiff, uninspired midtempo drumming. And then it ends, sitting there to be rediscovered and forgotten for another time.  

How Can A Plumb Be Perfected? - 3 Perhaps the most cryptic GBV track of the record. Like “I Bet Hippy,” the band goes with a minimalist approach, keeping this hushed, letting the beauty lay low. Pollard chooses to veil this in a shadowy reverb and chilling minimalism. The approach is somewhat fascinating, and it works, except the chorus constantly brings to mind The Psychedelic Furs in a way that continues to haunt me in all the wrong ways. A roadblock yet to be passed. 

Child's Play- 3 One of the wildest, if not THE wildest closer in GBV history. Actually, one of the stranger mishmash of songs in the GBV catalog. Absolutely jarring upon first listen; a fragmented nightmare of high-octane rock, jilted stops and starts, and masturbatory guitar soloing that begs for a double take and a deep dive once more. A disjointed send-off on an album full of resurrected ideas.