Polvo's latest forces a square pegs into round holes

Shapes (Touch & Go)

What's wrong with having an opinion? Ask Polvo's Dave Brylawski. In a rambling interview entitled "Straight Outta Context" in the Tuba Frenzy zine, Brylawski bemoans the state of music criticism. He's pissed that snotty rock critics have usurped power from defenseless musicians. His proof? Critics, apparently, claim that their opinions are objective.

Of course, the phrase "objective opinion" is an obvious oxymoron, and if there is a single critic in the world who believes that he can prove that his opinions are facts, he's either on the way to establishing a new philosophy that will radically redefine humanity's place in the world or he's an absolute moron.

Unfortunately, the alleged claim to objectivity made by these invisible, anonymous idiots is just the beginning of the "problem." Brylawski's even more peeved with critics who analyze bands' work in the context of their own careers. "When you criticize a band for going in a certain direction, you're applying your own layers of context to that band. There'll be a certain few bands that we all know can do no wrong, and then all of a sudden their core fans are writing them off . . . It's sort of a copout," he says. So for Brylawski, critics are "copping out" when they analyze Miles Davis' development over his career, or claim Wowee Zowee isn't up to par with earlier Pavement. Dave's logic fails: without value judgments, you can't have criticism.

But Dave wouldn't mind that scenario. He'd rather promote a goofy system in which nobody can say anything bad about a piece of music. Instead, one should give the artist the "benefit of the doubt." I'm not making this up. But why the resentment? Maybe Dave disdains critics because his band just made an awful record.

Polvo's last effort, Exploded Drawing, was one of the best albums of 1996, combining technical innovation and clever musical appropriations with impeccable songcraft. The new record, Shapes, has none of its predecessor's unity. Polvo has always had a knack for putting non-Western musical styles in a rock context. But on Shapes, they merely echo those styles. "The Fighting Kites" is a directionless sitar drone. "Twenty White Tents," a whispery Ash Bowie tune, tries to be a Nick Drake song, but never gets around to developing a hook, a chorus, or even any strong emotions. And "El Rocío" has the guitar wizardry of earlier Polvo, but none of the restraint or songcraft.

In their early years, Polvo were often pigeonholed as a Sonic Youth rip-off, probably due to their penchant for crafting catchy pop songs out of noise and bizarre guitar tunings. On "Rock Post Rock" Polvo don't go beyond rock, they slide backward into the murky musical tarpit of the '70s. The song does indeed rock in a testosterone-charged, Led Zeppelin way, complete with noodly guitar solos and cock-rock attitude. And if "Rock Post Rock" suffers from overindulgence, "Downtown Dedication" is even worse, with a cheesy organ riff and embarrassing, strained vocals.

Perhaps I'm a bit hard on Dave--who up until yesterday could do no wrong--picking apart his opinions, then trashing a record he and three other amazing musicians worked hard to produce. But even an amazing musician can fall prey to the mistake of pursuing new directions in music for their own sake. It makes me sad, since I'm just a record reviewer who'll probably never put out a record of my own, let alone one as bad as Shapes, and these are just my stupid opinions. But seriously, if musicians as talented as Polvo can't come up with relevant rock music in 1997, who can?

--Josh Westlund

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