Guided By Voices | Let’s Go Eat The Factory

The Reverend waxes Biblical on the new LP from Robert Pollard and co.

Most likely to: make you settle for a kiss on the cheek even after you’ve bought it dinner and everything!

Brethren, let us now turn in our Bibles to the book of Genesis, Chapter 38, Verses 9 and 10: “And Onan knew that the seed should not be his; and it came to pass, when he went in unto his brother’s wife, that he spilled it on the ground, lest that he should give seed to his brother. And the thing which he did displeased the LORD: wherefore he slew him also.”

We’ll not concern ourselves today with why exactly our Lord had commanded Onan to shag his sister-in-law in the first place – as it concerns one of those laws that He used to seemingly feel quite strongly about but later on decided wasn’t such a hot idea after all – and instead focus on the outcome. Onan was supposed to be makin’ a baby and plotzed on the ground instead and God indignantly lightning-bolted his ass, resulting in a heartwarming tale that to this very day is still used to make young men despise themselves for thinking about Kat Dennings just a little too hard.

If there’s any individual who’s been vying for the title of the Onan of Rock & Roll, it has to be Robert Pollard. For a couple of decades now – whether it’s on solo albums, or albums released under about 40 different band names, or the now-reactivated Guided By Voices brand – he’s been spilling seed on the ground like a crazy man, consigning tunes with the basic genetic material to be world-beaters into sad stains on the mattress of music history.

This sad bit of business is offset by the fact that during the same time period Pollard has managed to write as many truly great songs as any five other songwriters combined. The man truly is a marvel, with a brain capable of churning out a seemingly infinite number of melodies that combine British Invasion hooks with post-punk attitude – little miracles of heartbreaking catchiness matched with Dadaist lyrics that are most likely gobbledygook but seem like they must mean something. He first burst out of Dayton, Ohio with GBV’s 1993 album Vampire on Titus, kicking off a string of albums with the “classic” GBV line-up which enthralled the indie-rock nation of the mid-90s until that line-up was retired and Pollard continued with a rotating cast of sidemen until he retired the band name in 2004.

With Let’s Go Eat the Factory, Pollard has gotten the old “classic GBV” gang back together – including his invaluable songwriting companion Tobin Sprout – and released another album following the time-tested, frustratingly brilliant, brilliantly frustrating Guided By Voices model. It’s chock full of amazing crap like “Waves,” “Chocolate Boy,” and “The Unsinkable Fats Domino,” which sport such obvious, indelible hooks that it’s difficult to fathom how no one has written them before. Half the album is like that and it’s a reminder of all the reasons why GBV is a beloved outfit and truly one of the best damn bands of all time.

But then there’s the other half of the album, where Pollard gets to wanking around, and songs that start out incredible suddenly just fizzle out because no one involved could be bothered to finish them. The band starts playing a tune like “How I Met My Mother,” and they’re really cookin’ man, really building up a head of steam, and then just when they get to the point where the song’s going to kick into high gear and nail classic status they say “Right, that’s enough” and just fucking stop. It’s frustrating as all hell – it’s about as bad as when a young man is thinking really hard about Kat Dennings and is just about finished thinking about her and his mom knocks on the door.

That’s the thing that has always made Guided By Voices albums as annoying as they are enthralling. Each one has a handful of the best songs you’ve ever heard, and an even bigger handful of the best potential songs you’ve ever heard that the band decided to just wad up in a Kleenex and flush instead. I can never decide if Pollard is lazy or arrogant – does he not finish things because he can’t be bothered to put in the effort or because he gets off on being so talented he can waste massive amounts of killer material? And yes, I realize it’s odd to wonder if a guy who releases a 22-track album every two weeks is lazy, but with just a little bit more effort he could release an 11-track album every week instead, and all eleven tracks on each album would be masterpieces.

I suppose it’s the curse of being freakishly gifted. Pollard can come up with 35 great pop hooks in his head in the time it takes him to gnaw off a hangnail, so it doesn’t bother him to piss away a bunch of them. That’s just plain selfish. Hell, if nothing else, he should think of poor sad bastards like Adam Duritz or those nitwits in Train, who’ve been in the business about as long as Pollard has but who have yet to come up with their first worthwhile song, and there Pollard is throwing great tunes away like they grow on trees.  How frigging mean is that?

So come on, Bob. Stop being Onan and spilling your seed all willy-nilly. Stick the follow-through and bless the world with your fully-formed offspring, lest you one day also find yourself with a lightning bolt up your ass from a vengeful God, who was really tapping His toe to “The Head” and was all geared up for a rafters rocking chorus when the damn thing just sputtered out.

Listen to Let’s Go Eat The Factory single “Doughnut For A Snowman” below:

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