Author: Jason

Posted on

Robert Pollard-Mania! #42: ASK THEM

Lexo and The Leapers
Ask Them
1999, The Fading Captain Series

“Time Machines” is a song that sounds like a door being suddenly kicked in. Or maybe a bomb going off. But, ya know… in a good way.

It’s the kind of explosive pop throwdown that Robert Pollard hadn’t put out in a spell. It’s a real gas pedal-pusher and it wouldn’t have fit on Kid Marine at all, but as the opener to an EP of lean, crunchy rock, it was perfecto.

I even love the lyrics. I think it’s a song about nostalgia and how you might enjoy living in it when you can, but present day reality will always intrude (“Time machines escape the fall/ But cannot climb the prison wall”). “Time Machines” doesn’t put down nostalgia, though. Pollard was 41 when he recorded it. That’s an age when nostalgia can hit you hard. I know from experience. It’s not necessarily about idealizing your past as glory days that can never be topped. Rather, it’s often a state of not feeling finished with your past.

There’s always something back there, too many decades ago, that you didn’t notice before. Something that you didn’t appreciate enough.

But now you think about it all the time.

Continue reading “Robert Pollard-Mania! #42: ASK THEM”

Posted on

Things I Will Keep #18: THE ROLLING STONES, Their Satanic Majesties Request

The Rolling Stones
Their Satanic Majesties Request
1967, London Records

I guess that I can understand why the longtime members of the Rolling Stones look back on this album with all the fondness that one might remember a case of food-poisoning. Despite their history of drugs and decadence and how the mere mention of their name conjures up fleshy images of the over-the-top rock star lifestyle, they ARE professionals. At least today, when they’ve cleaned up, fart through silk, blow their noses with $100 bills and play for huge crowds at the Palmolive Dish Soap Arena and the Speed Stick Deodorant Ampitheatre, where people pay three-figure sums (or more) for tickets to NOT hear shambling, lysergic drug-bombs such as “Sing This All Together” or “Gomper”.

With the exception of hit “She’s a Rainbow”, Mick ‘n’ Keith no doubt don’t want to bother with these songs today, either. Beyond a few moments, this album isn’t really them. It was a product of 1967 and if you were an English rock band then maybe you HAD to react to psychedelia in some way. Like the smell of strong pot from a fat joint, it was in the air.

You could ignore it and instead change with the times by indulging in concept albums like The Kinks and The Who did (and ignoring something is a reaction in its own way).

Or you could follow the purple flashing lights and trail of flower petals and embrace the acid and that’s what The Stones did. For one lost, crazy half a year or so, at least.

The result was out of character, strange and controversial. Decades later, Mick Jagger called it “nonsense”. Keith Richards called it “a load of crap”. It’s one of the few Stones albums of the time from which Martin Scorsese hasn’t licensed songs for his movies.

But, fuck me, it’s my favorite. I love it. As far as I’m concerned, any happy home needs a copy of Their Satanic Majesties Request. 

Continue reading “Things I Will Keep #18: THE ROLLING STONES, Their Satanic Majesties Request”

Posted on

Robert Pollard-Mania! #41: KID MARINE

Robert Pollard
Kid Marine
1999, The Fading Captain Series

Robert Pollard works fast, but the music industry works slow. Negotiations for the first Guided by Voices major label release–it was all`recorded and pretty much ready to go–took time. Meanwhile, the band played the odd show here and there in 1998 and early ’99, but without a new album out, maybe Pollard wasn’t feeling a full-fledged tour.

So that meant sitting around at home a lot.

(I love this vintage Dayton Daily News article about Pollard’s downtime in 1998. He rented 676 movies from Blockbuster that year! Wow! I wonder if he ever rented Shakma.)

For a guy like Pollard, who never stops writing, it also meant a fresh batch of songs. About sitting around at home a lot. Contemplating the ceiling (literally, in the song “Living Upside Down”). Watching TV. Observing the human parade. He also got into leafing through an acquaintance’s personal photo album–that guy would be mullet-sporting cover star Jeff “Kid Marine” Davis–and then wrote songs inspired by that.

Pollard settled on his perch in Dayton, Ohio, USA and took in the things around him.

And Kid Marine is the result.

Continue reading “Robert Pollard-Mania! #41: KID MARINE”

Posted on

DISMEMBER THE ALAMO at the Richardson, TX Alamo Drafthouse 10/26/19

So, you like horror movies, but can you sit in a theater for a ten-hour marathon of them? And can you do it even when each one is kept a secret so you don’t know what the hell you’re gonna see?

Sure, you can! It’s like trick or treat. All you know about this show is that your butt’s going to be numb when it’s all over and you’re going to see a lot of people die. Also, the coolest thing about it is they don’t show anything that this theater has shown before, which means that they have to dig deep and go for the weird stuff.

It gets you in the Halloween spirit.

Me, I’m a broken-down old creep. I don’t really do Halloween anymore. Maybe I’ll put on a Cramps record or watch some old horror movie faves (Arrow’s new An American Werewolf in London Blu-ray restoration should be in my hot little hands this week, says Amazon) in October, but I don’t carve pumpkins or wear costumes. I mostly enjoy the fall weather and rationalize eating some candy. That’s my idea of a party.

So the annual Dismember the Alamo horror-o-rama pretty much IS Halloween to me. Everyone’s in a good mood. Anticipation fills the room. Some people show up in costumes. Next thing you know, even a little introverted mosquito like me chit-chats with the guy in the next seat about the movie we just saw and what the hell might hit us next. (This year’s theme was creepy-crawlies. Snakes and bugs and worms, oh my!)

In other words, it’s a great show. It’s the kind of show that blasts your brain with movies like THESE:

Continue reading “DISMEMBER THE ALAMO at the Richardson, TX Alamo Drafthouse 10/26/19”

Posted on

Robert Pollard-Mania! #40: WAVED OUT

Robert Pollard
Waved Out
1998, Matador Records

In 1998, Robert Pollard was 40 years old and his plan for Guided by Voices was that he was gonna at least take a stab at mainstream success while he was still spry. It was cool with me. I was rooting for him. A slick, Ric Ocasek-produced GBV album was something that I was curious to hear.

One might have wondered though if maybe we were losing the eccentric psychedelic genius that we’d been following. Part of GBV’s character was a curious freedom on record. Noise. Accidents that sounded cool. Albums in which strange, misfit songs found a comfortable home next to killer hooks. A very uncommercial sort of beauty. It wasn’t mere indie/lo-fi snobbery. Robert Pollard found his voice (and his audience) embracing rough edges and home recording. It was how his songs sounded good. It was why he didn’t sign with Warner Brothers in 1994 and remake Alien Lanes for radio like the suits wanted.

How was any of Ocasek’s studio magic gonna compete with that?

If you were paying attention though, you didn’t worry about that much. Robert Pollard does his job each day and new songs are not a problem. He was still writing little oddballs and making low-budget recordings. Pollard had stacks of fresh goodness that didn’t fit on Guided by Voices albums anymore. Great songs, haunting songs, shadowy moods, alien vibes and psychedelic nutcase stuff that the deep-diggers want to hear.

Sounds like a great idea for a solo album, to me.

Sounds like Waved Out. 

Continue reading “Robert Pollard-Mania! #40: WAVED OUT”

Posted on

Things I Will Keep #17: THE MUFFS, Happy Birthday to Me

The Muffs
Happy Birthday to Me
1997, Reprise Records (original vinyl on Telster Records)

The news of Kim Shattuck’s sad and unfair death at age 56, due to ALS complications, knocked all of the wind out of me last week.

I first saw it on Twitter and I couldn’t believe it (“Huh, Kim Shattuck is trending? I wonder wh–OH, FUCK!”). Total punch in the gut. Her illness was kept private. It was a complete surprise to us in the peanut gallery. At the moment, other people were around me and I had to walk away from them and find a quiet place to sit and think.

The deaths of musicians rarely get to me like that. Even if I liked them. For the most part, I tend to figure that they made their mark and will live on through their work. I might get a little wistful and misty, but I don’t feel hurt.

But Kim Shattuck’s passing hurt. 

Continue reading “Things I Will Keep #17: THE MUFFS, Happy Birthday to Me”

Posted on

THE PRISONER #5: Schizoid Man

(October 27, 1967; writer: Terence Feely; director: Pat Jackson)

In 2019, the line between television and le cinema is blurred to the max. Major directors do important work for television now. Auteur shit. Shit that’s a part of the same conversations that people have about theatrical movies. There are people who will argue that there’s still a division between the two forms of media, but, from where I sit, it looks like the walls are a’ tumblin’ down, Charlie.

The rise of high-definition television and cable networks (and streaming services) who can be more ambitious than their more dorky broadcast TV counterparts, still tethered to those FCC regulations and Doritos commercials, are the obvious steps forward.

But there were earlier advances toward this. The original run of Twin Peaks is a stepping stone, for sure. In my opinion, Miami Vice was one, too. (I intend to write about that show here in time, if you care.)

And way back in the 1960s, The Prisoner was similarly ambitious. Over fifty years later, these episodes look and behave like “a movie” to me. Its shots are beautifully composed and packed with information. Its background characters are sometimes a Fellini-like collection of memorable faces and bodies. Nothing about it seems cheap. When they went for a special effect, they put in the work to pull it off.

“Schizoid Man”, in which star Patrick McGoohan plays two roles, is a perfect example of what I’m babbling about.

(I’m also going to spoil the fuck out of it in this piece, so beware.)

Continue reading “THE PRISONER #5: Schizoid Man”

Posted on

Robert Pollard-Mania! #39: I AM A TREE

Guided by Voices
I Am a Tree
1997, Matador Records

Robert Pollard writes tons of anthems on his own so it was a major endorsement of GBV’s new lead guitarist Doug Gillard when Pollard not only recorded Gillard’s “I Am a Tree” for Guided by Voices, but also consented to it as the second and final single from Mag Earwhig!. Until Tobin Sprout scored a few A-sides about fifteen years later when the old line-up reunited, “I Am a Tree” was the only GBV single not written by King Shit himself.

Pollard still sings it like it’s his own, though. He thinks it’s a great song. You can tell. Meanwhile, Cobra Verde summon thunder and the song itself is powerful and yet unpretentious. It’s total pop with Godzilla guitars. In 1975, it might have been a hit. In 1997, it was the sound of a band known for lo-fi brevity taking its boldest step yet in shedding its old skin.

“I Am a Tree” is almost five minutes long and recorded to fill a stadium.

Continue reading “Robert Pollard-Mania! #39: I AM A TREE”

Posted on

Things I Will Keep #16: GEM, Hexed

My cracked CD case says “hi”.

Gem
Hexed
1995, Restless Records

Happy September, folks.

August will probably always be a slow month on this site. I write everyday, but in the drag days of late summer in Texas, my brain takes a vacation. I won’t repeat my rant from the beginning of my Jill Cunniff piece from last year, but I always spend the 100-plus degree days of August annoyed at everything. I make notes and write fragments for new articles for this site, but in my cranky, sweatball state they rarely feel like anything worth pursuing. If this was my job, I could work my way through this misery, sure, but this is not my job, so I can say “fuck it” with impunity and just not update for a few weeks.

Now, it’s mid-September and it’s still fucking hot (Texas), but the nights are getting more pleasant. The supermarkets have Halloween displays up. Changes are happening, however slowly. The leaves here haven’t yet changed color, but as the world around me slides back into routine, I feel myself receiving good energy again.

What I’m trying to say is that I’m in the mood for some for some killer back-to-school rock and Gem’s shotgun blast of a debut album nails it. Maybe none of these guys had been in school for awhile when they made it. Maybe main songwriter Doug Gillard had been in bands for about fifteen years at this point. Nevertheless, they still kicked up the kind of blare and had the kind of songs that, in a better world, would have shouted out of high school parking lots in 1995.

From the cynical, misfit kids, at least. The kind of kids who could hear a song like “Your Heroes Hate You” and it just confirmed what they suspected about the world already.

Continue reading “Things I Will Keep #16: GEM, Hexed”