Robert Pollard – From A Compound Eye
Think of Guided By Voices’ 2004 breakup as analogous to a puzzling Chapter 11 bankruptcy declaration, in which a thriving enterprise is dissolved so the proprietor can…well, continue doing exactly the same thing as before, more or less. That would be frontman Robert Pollard, the lone constant throughout GBV’s existence. (Toward the end, he was fond of bowing before audiences and drolly declaring, “Yes, we are the indie-rock Jethro Tull.”)
With or without his old band, Pollard’s records tend to fall into one of two categories. There are the tight pop albums such as 1999’s Do The Collapse that leave you wondering why the heck “Teenage FBI” didn’t make Pollard bigger than Bryan (or at least Ryan) Adams. Then there are the peculiar self-indulgences which stem from Pollard’s apparent conviction that his every thought deserves committing to tape.
From A Compound Eye, Pollard’s first post-GBV solo album (but something like 189th overall), is closer to the latter. There’s almost no way it couldn’t be, given its 26-song sprawl. But there are plenty of gems, and even the also-rans are weirdly interesting. As always, the good ones sound completely effortless — the Paul McCartney-style hook of “Dancing Girls And Dancing Men”, the chiming “U.S. Mustard Company”. Then there’s “Kensington Cradle”, which sounds like something Eugene Chadbourne might have concocted on his electric rake.
Of course, you can listen for days straight without a clue as to what Pollard is on about. “I like the sound of breaking glass,” he croons in his best Roger Daltrey voice on “Conquer The Moon”, “’cause it’s too loud.” Somehow, he makes that sound like it means something.