After a while, everybody runs out of steam.
You might not know who he is, but nevertheless, Robert Pollard is a legend.
As the guiding force behind four-track heroes Guided by Voices (GBV), Pollard has carved out a name for himself as the greatest rock 'n' roller since Axl, and, all things being equal, probably way greater. His credentials are unparalleled; well on his way to becoming the most prolific songwriter ever. The man was behind at least two of the best indie-rock records of all time (some wouldn't even throw the "indie" in there), and is an essentially peerless home-recording pioneer. This man from Dayton is a superstar in his own day.
Provided your definition of superstar includes pushing 50 from the wrong side, a life of perpetual underground obscurity and constantly making records no one hears, Robert Pollard isn't misunderstood he's just overlooked. Talented or no, anybody would get a bit burnt out on that.
And Pollard, not unlike our beloved Axl, is showing his years a little. Okay, a lot. GBV used to be the most reliable kids on the block, but around the time of 1999's Ric Ocasek-lacquered Do The Collapse, all sense of consistency got tossed out the window. Given a comparison of the run of the truly great 90s Guided by Voices records (five years worth, from Propeller to Mag Earwhig!) to the last couple, it would seem as though Pollard's talent is hitting its twilight.
What made Guided by Voices' renaissance so noteworthy was the songs; with 20-plus tracks on every record, Pollard managed to make each tune a 90-second gem and each album a tight, blistering unit.
GBV used to always manage to transcend its tinny production and nonsensical content ("Kicker of Elves," anyone?) to create a sound all its own. But that time, it seems, has passed. Blame the sheer lack of original ideas one can have after writing thousands of songs over a 15-year span, perhaps, but whatever the reason, Earthquake Glue, the brand-new Guided by Voices long-player, just doesn't gel.
For every GBV classic, there are at least a couple tunes that leave no impression whatsoever, which, given Pollard's incredible track record in his heyday, is more than a bit troubling.
Even last year's hit-and-miss Universal Truths and Cycles worked much better as a whole, with higher highs and at least vaguely interesting lows.
There are at least five tunes on Earthquake Glue that are virtually indistinguishable from each other, all of which trade in Pollard's '60s pop fixation for, of all things, recycled KISS riffs and murky, phoned-in vocals.
The problem, unlike with past GBV disappointments, isn't production sheen or mainstream ambitions; these songs, for the most part, just aren't that good.
Despite its shortcomings, Earthquake Glue still has its moments. The rollicking "Useless Inventions" and "I'll Replace You With Machines" get it right on all levels, and "The Best of Jill Hives" is an absolutely gorgeous, radio-ready classic that stands as Pollard's best song of the '00s thus far. The mournful "My Son, My Secretary and My Country" owes a lot to Elephant 6 and GBV's own "Skin Parade", but it works in ways the rest of the album just doesn't.
But ultimately, Earthquake Glue is nothing if not sobering. It's nice to hear garage rock without the gimmicks, and there's plenty of evidence to suggest Pollard still has some fire left in him.
But it's hard to listen to undervalued talent declining before most anyone got a chance to hear how great he could be.
