Guided by Voices/Cobra Verde
1997, Wabana Ore Limited
What, ANOTHER 7″? What year is this? 1994?
No, this is definitely 1997. There’s no mistaking this record for the Guided by Voices of ’94.
All of those guys were out and were replaced by an already-existing band who didn’t sound much like them. The newcomers were Cobra Verde outta Cleveland. Mean guys. City guys.
Old Guided by Voices had that small town thing happening. They were weirdos in the basement rocking while their neighbors slept.
By contrast, Cobra Verde hailed from urbanity and they kicked up the kind of confrontational roar that rises from street noise. Most of them had been in bands and put out records for as long Pollard had (a little longer, actually). They were seasoned and versatile, sometimes quiet, but often hard, mean and spiked with classic big balls 70s rock and a few splatters of punk. The also had a smokin’ lead guitarist (Doug Gillard).
In them, Robert Pollard heard the future of Guided by Voices.
Now–spoiler alert–this Cobra Verde edition of Guided by Voices flamed out fast. We’ll talk more about that in #38 when we get to the album that came out in June.
In the meantime, this 7″ taster preceded it by a month or two. The Guided by Voices side (ie. Pollard backed by Cobra Verde, or GBVerde, as some called them back then) offers two exclusive songs. Not only are they not on the album, but they wouldn’t fit on the album. They’re misfits. They belong here, on this odd duck of a record.
Now, Guided by Voices are not political much at all, in my opinion. Some people will tell you that everything out there is political. The episode of The Flintstones where Fred drops a bowling ball on his foot and accidentally invents a new dance is political. These people see politics as the big box that culture comes in.
I’m not one of those. I think that most good stuff is beyond politics. Music, in particular, appeals to the pre-literate side of us. It’s sound and it’s either pleasurable or it’s not. People will love songs forever and never analyze what the words say. Sometimes the words don’t say anything. Sometimes all a song means is that one line rhymed with the other line.
And even when something is explicity political, it rarely matters to me. I like lots of different personalities and points of view. Good things and bad things come in all sorts of packages.
I see culture as the big box. Politics is in there, but it’s no bigger than sex or raw thrills or things that make you want to dance or sing.
BACK TO THIS RECORD, its theme is violent revolution. The songs reference guns and bombs and terrorists. The sleeve art has a military font. More guns show up on the creepy back cover. Red is a prominent color, but is it Commie red or right-wing red?
The songs are vague on that matter. All that we know is that somebody wants to blow up somethin’.
Research further and you’ll find that the front center art is a Russian piece from 1922 by Aleksandra Exter. It’s a design intended for the production of an avant garde stage show called Satanic Ballet that, as far as we know today, was never performed.
So, maybe it’s Commie red.
Or maybe it’s ironic. This is rock music. And this was 1997. Irony was still allowed.
Pollard’s “Aim Correctly” and “Orange Jacket” are two songs that sound like one song with two parts. There’s no pause between them. The short and swirling “Aim Correctly”, true to its title, is all about gun-sight imagery. Bullets and targets and such. Just when it sounds like someone’s about to finally pull the trigger, “Orange Jacket” jump-cuts in. It’s another clenched fist, but with a chorus about a “psycho bird” who “throws a bomb into the crowd”. It’s GBV in rare Mission of Burma mode. Post-punk, dark, and threatening. It’s one of my favorites from this period.
Also, you can tell right away that this is not the old band. This record isn’t slick, but it is SURE. It’s precise. There’s some extra muscle and agility to the playing. Cobra Verde glide through the air, shift their weight just right, and land exactly where they’re supposed to land and with perfect poise. Even when the song is only just over a minute long. Pollard’s signature economy of time is no big thing to them. They can hang.
This is not a radically different take on Guided by Voices. It’s the same vision. But this time, it can juggle knives and do somersaults.
Cobra Verde stick with the theme on their own song on the flipside, “Terrorist”. While Pollard is aloof though, Cobra Verde go with the snotty punk rock approach. “I’m your terrorist”, singer Jon Petkovic shouts while also flinging blood your way.
Come to think of that, that’s another thing that the red on the cover might mean.