Guided by solo voices

Carnival Boy (Matador)

ROBERT POLLARD

Not in My Airforce (Matador)

Now that Guided By Voices songwriters Robert Pollard and Tobin Sprout have each released solo albums, it's gotten easier to assign them both to a lineage in rock 'n' roll's brief history. Let's say Pollard plays the lyrically and musically elliptical Lennon while Sprout is the melodically gifted, more structured McCartney.

The band together

That might smack of hyperbole--after all, how could the heirs to the mid-'60s British Invasion be a couple of sad freaks from Dayton? Geography aside, under Pollard and Sprout's guidance, GBV consistently churn out smart, quirky, sloppy and infectious pop gems as indebted to the Beatles and the Who as to the current lo-fi gang. Whereas Not in My Airforce is an erratic disintegration into the depths of Pollard's weird, four-track psyche, Carnival Boy is an earnest and straightforward exploration of pop's greater harmonic possibilities.

Sprout has always seemed to have trouble keeping up with the sheer volume of Pollard's song catalogue. But the puckish sidekick has always seemed to give his songs more time than his uninhibited counterpart. True to form, there's not a single song on Carnival Boy that doesn't sound finished. Every riff, progression, awkward drumbeat, and squeal of tape hiss falls perfectly into place. The songs, though played loosely, boast a higher degree of forethought and intention.

On "The Natural Alarm," the album's opener, Sprout weaves together seamless arpeggios with atmospheric guitar chimes, subtle squawks of organ, and an insistently pretty vocal melody. "Martin's Mounted Head" and "I Didn't Know" coast along on similarly sublime washes of sound.

Sprout's lyrical inspirations and melodies are often gently bittersweet. They come even more into focus on stark acoustic pieces like "Gas Daddy Gas" and "Hermit Stew," in which Sprout sings, "Cool and serious walls around us, / I could be a party of one / ...Watch me come and go. / I'm everyone I know. / I could leave today, / but then I'd just have something on my mind." Poignantly simple, Carnival Boy's 30-minute playing time is regrettably short for such an outstanding collection of tunes.

At least Sprout edits himself. As opposed to Pollard, whose Not in My Airforce is a sprawling, at times incoherent mish-mash of sloppy performances, bizarre wordplays, and vocals that drift unabashedly in and out of key. While GBV's recent outings have started to toy with sound quality and more restrained song structures, this solo record features some of Pollard's wackier moments. While the album starts out sounding close enough to a sane rock record--there are cleaner drum tracks here than have ever been associated with Pollard--it gradually dissolves into a lo-fi nightmare.

Which is, perhaps, what Pollard knows best. He strikes paydirt on a few of the final tracks. "Party" is a lonely, pleading affair in which Pollard sings, "It's just around the corner / make yourself happy to know / it's going to be a scream." The plaintiveness of the mood is augmented by the blurred vocals, tinny, acoustic guitar, and ever-present tape hiss. The summit of four-track exploitation occurs on "Double Standards, Inc." Over a droning guitar line, Pollard doubles his voice to effect a wicked, eerie phase- cancellation effect.

There are a few straightforward rock songs here; the first four tracks sound conventional enough, as do the staccato stylings of "Flat Beauty." They all take advantage of Pollard's considerable melodic talents. But Not in My Airforce's more interesting moments show a troubled, wandering mind sloppily picking apart an acoustic guitar and wailing into the wee hours of the night.