Guided by Voices: Isolation Drills

Filmmaker Eric Rohmer, himself a brilliant artist, wrote in 1952, "The history of art offers no example, as far as I know, of an authentic genius who has gone through a period of true decline at the end of his career; this should encourage us rather to detect, beneath what seems to be clumsy or bald, the traces of that desire for simplicity that characterizes the `last manner' of painters such as Titian, Rembrandt, Matisse or Bonnard, composers such as Beethoven and Stravinsky." While one might refrain from placing Pollard in such esteemed company, I nonetheless believe that Rohmer's words apply to him all the same.

Certainly there has been a shift in Pollard's songcraft over the last five years. Oblique pop songs with absurdist lyrics have largely given way to the more leftfield prog and psych influences which have always existed on the fringes of his songwriting. Perhaps the biggest change is in his lyrics; in a recent interview, he called them "kind of dark and personal. They're not about witches and robots and things like that." Fortunately, this newfound "maturity" doesn't come with the lack of inspiration that such a label often implies.

Isolation Drills kicks off with the punchy "Fair Touching," whose chiming guitars instantly make clear that melody remains one of Pollard's top priorities. Two tracks later, "Chasing Heather Crazy" hits the point home; it's arguably as catchy as any of his previous pop masterpieces. Another of the album's highlights, "Glad Girls," is a driving and tuneful rocker that invites comparisons between GbV and the Who.

The carefree lyrics ("Hey hey glad girls/I only wanna get you high") of that song are somewhat of an anomaly, though; the album's overall atmosphere, reflected in its title, is one of distance and detachment. "The Brides Have Hit Glass" deals directly with Pollard's marital problems. Yet he seems to be lamenting his increasingly open personal life at the same time in the closer, "Privately."

Among Pollard's greatest skills is his ability to sequence an album, displayed in the variety and cohesiveness of Isolation Drills. Many of the songs have a much harder edge than one might expect from GbV, but Pollard avoids the dirges that made 1999's Do the Collapse something of a misstep. Here, heavier guitars exude a desperate intensity, as in passionate songs like "The Enemy" or "Run Wild." The record is deftly punctuated by, among others, the minute-long "Frostman," a wistful acoustic number recorded on a four-track; a brief snippet of an old GbV song; and the haunting, cello-tinged "Sister, I Need Wine."

On the whole, Isolation Drills deserves to be seen as a success, exemplary of the artistic "desire for simplicity" of which Rohmer spoke. More hindsight will be needed to establish its place in the GbV oeuvre, but for now, both diehard fans and skeptics alike can rest assured that Pollard's genius is indeed quite far indeed from being wasted (TVT). —Sam Engel

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