I’ve written recently about favorite bands, and I’ve had quite a few. I’d wager, however, that my longest-running favorite band ever - through most of the 90s - is Guided by Voices.
I don’t just have one GBV story…I could go on for days. Here are a few memorable ones.
1. Introduction - Hara Arena, Dayton, Ohio, March 1994.
In the spring of 1994, five years following my first stint as their drummer, I re-joined The Lemonheads on second guitar. People get confused because I didn’t really play on the 90s Lemonheads albums; but I played every show between ‘94 and the end of ‘97. My re-initiation came in March of ‘94 with a few TV appearances. It was an exciting time - 7 years into being a full-time musician, finally seeing what it’s like to be in a mainstream rock band. It wasn’t without challenge, but we had a lot of fun traveling the world playing all those great songs.
[the actual show - you can see how hard Matt was working on the lights]
On a New York trip to do Conan O’Brien, people from Lemonheads’ management couldn’t stop talking about this band from Ohio called Guided By Voices. My friend Matt Sweeney, a well-respected and brilliant guitarist and producer, said I had to see them as soon as possible - they’d change my life. I didn’t need any more convincing. I found out the following week they had a show in their home town of Dayton opening for The Breeders in a hockey arena.1 That’s a few hours’ drive from my home in Bloomington. I called my good buddy fellow musician Glenn Hicks and said, “Guess, what, buddy? Next Wednesday we’re going to Dayton. We’ve got a band to see.” He quickly agreed, no questions asked.
I watched GBV from the lighting board where Sweeney feverishly ran the light show, loudly singing along with each song and occasionally pumping his fist. He was deeply involved in the band’s rise, having “discovered” them and brought their music to the attention of their label, Matador Records. The band sounded amazing, careening at the edge of control. The arena setting suited them, and they sounded like a high-octane British Invasion act racing to work as many songs as possible into their short opening set. The front man bounced from one end of the stage to the other, high-kicking and swigging beer after beer. Amazing.
Later, we went to an after-party in a hotel room followed by a late-night run to Waffle House. We met the GBV guys and they were much older than we expected. So freaking old! How was it possible? Hard-living regular Midwestern guys with jobs, at least a decade older than us. 2 Sweeney gave me an advance copy of their forthcoming album, Bee Thousand. At first I had a hard time accepting how different the album sounded from the live band. I expected this full-on, wide-screen arena rock band, and yet the sound of the album was tinny, claustrophobic, often out of tune. I loved the songs so I hung in there for repeated listens, and it got better each time. By the tenth listen or so, I believed it was one of the best albums I’d ever heard. Over time, it far exceeded my expectations. I still feel that way. Yes, it sounds like shit. It’s all over the place. It’s sloppy as hell at times. And yes, it’s perfect. If you haven’t heard Bee Thousand, please fix that now.
2. That One Perfect Night at Second Story (in 1995).
I spent many hours in the months that followed listening to Guided by Voices. I was obsessed. Glenn was obsessed. All my bandmates and most of my friends, obsessed. Indie fans all over the country were obsessed. I quickly found out that they’d been making and releasing albums and EPs on small labels since the 80s, so I bought everything I could find. Thirty years is just MY GBV history - the band has been a thing for 40 years! I cultivated a friendship with Bob, the primary singer and writer, and we exchanged a few letters and postcards. I lobbied him to bring the band to Bloomington for a show. Finally he wrote back and said sure, let’s find a date. Let’s do a show.
I booked and promoted a show for January 27, 1995, at my favorite local venue, an upstairs room of an old Moose Lodge called Second Story, upstairs from a drag show bar called Bullwinkle’s. Naturally, I put my own band, Velo-Deluxe, in the opening slot. Their second Matador album, Alien Lanes, was set to come out in April, and I had the advance tape - which I’d already pretty much worn out. In the months since the Dayton show, they’d gone from obscure to one of the hottest underground acts in the world. I spent the summer on tour, but I heard countless stories from their legendary run of Lollapalooza side-stage performances. For one thing, they drank so much beer they became known as “Guided by Beer.” I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited for a concert.
My recollection is that the show was a “door deal,” meaning in this case they’d get paid whatever we took in at the door. The venue made money from booze, and at that they did very well. GBV, with a growing international profile, sold the room out with over 400 in a room that held 350 comfortably. My band - able to fill the room on our own - didn’t take any money because we were so grateful to be there, to have our favorite band in the room. The GBV set that night is one of my favorite shows I’ve ever seen. They played over 3 hours - seemingly every song they knew. Cathartic. They brought five or six cases of beer in coolers they emptied over the course of the set, and they still managed to set an all-time record in beer consumption from the bar in the club’s 15-year history. Wish I had a tape to relive that incredible night.
3. That Other Perfect Night at The Basement East (Last Weekend).
I actively kept up with GBV’s output and saw a bunch of shows between 1995 and 2001, but then I went to law school, had kids, and dropped out of music pretty much completely. The last album I spent any time with was Isolation Drills from 2001, which I still consider a creative peak for the band. But as I stopped paying attention to music for several years, Bob picked up the pace and he’s made over 25 GBV albums after 2001, along with a bunch of solo albums and other projects. He’s truly one of the most prolific artists of the rock era, and I’ve dipped in enough to know that his output is consistently great. Maybe I’ll spend my declining years getting to know every release. But in the meantime I’ll keep returning to my old 90s favorites for a dependable sugar rush.
About 8 years ago I was getting settled in Nashville and finding my way in the music scene. A musician friend of mine, Bobby Bare Jr., got himself a gig as the new guitarist of GBV! The band has had a fluid lineup since the beginning, with Pollard as the one consistent member. Bobby had to learn a huge number of songs for an upcoming tour, so our mutual friend, producer and former Uncle Tupelo/Wilco drummer Ken Coomer, had a great idea. What if we got some musician pals who share our love for GBV together and made a tribute band? A tribute band with an actual band member! Along with bassist and longtime Ben Folds collaborator Jared Reynolds and singer Jeff Boswell - a frontman of a legendary Nashville cover band called The Guilty Pleasures - we formed King Shit & the Golden Boy.3 We played three shows featuring classic-era GBV covers that year. It felt truly amazing to play those songs with such fantastic musicians. We had Pollard’s blessing and he threatened to drive down once to join us. Or maybe Bobby made that up. Anyway I think it served the purpose of learning the songs.
We couldn’t Bobby in KSGBs, so we’ve never revisited the project (though we talk about it periodically…who knows). Then when my friend David Newgarden, GBV’s manager, asked me if I’d like to open their Nashville show at the Basement East (incredibly at Pollard’s request), I knew I could count on Ken. I called my dear friend Glenn Hicks, my wingman for the ‘94 adventure who also recently led the band for my Bloomington, Indiana solo show. Another quick yes. Then my old Birmingham bandmate and pal Alex Yaker, who saw my social media announcement, called and said “I’m in.” I had a gig and a great band, and - like the song says - something to look forward to.
These days all my shows are “instant band” - I pull together some musician buddies familiar with my tunes who are fun to be around, send them a set list, then we have a single run-through before the show. That’s exactly what we did, and the show came off great…at least I think it did. The GBV set was as good as any I’ve seen by them since that incredible night in ‘95. It really was a perfect night - I love to play but I don’t like to self-promote. No need, GBV sold out the room! I love to play but it’s better with a big, receptive audience…rooms don’t sell themselves out! The GBV audience couldn’t have been any more welcoming, encouraging, or responsive. I love to play with friends, among friends, and for friends, and to make new friends in the process. That’s exactly what it was! Joyous. It felt like a gift, and a way to reconnect in a meaningful way with one of my all-time favorite bands - my literal favorite band and inspiration during my most productive years as a full-time musician. Pollard is still getting after it, still high-kicking and swilling beers onstage from his personal cooler. And he still sings those songs better than anyone else could ever do. Funny to think that I was alarmed to meet a band like that in their late 30s 30 years ago. Different times. Ageism is bullshit. Catch their show when they come through town; it’s truly a celebration.
Hara Arena, March 18, 1994. Full bill: Breeders, Afghan Whigs, New Bomb Turks, GBV. What a night.
Bob Pollard is almost exactly ten years older than me. I was 27, he was 36. It’s hard to understand how unusual it was at the time for anyone in an up-and-coming “indie” band to be over 30. He would have been younger than Kim Gordon or Mike Watt…but for some reason we didn’t hold age against already successful acts.
Named after a 1995 GBV album.
Wonderful article! Thank you.
I'm a huge music head (Record store clerk, college and pro radio DJ) and GBV have taken their place alongside my beloved XTC as my favorite bands of all-time. I got to finally "join in" when I was able to create the artwork for two of their San Francisco gigs (Fillmore poster in 2004 and a Warfield screenprint)... I've just finished a Robert Pollard typographic portrait (made up of over 100 of their greatest songs... surrounded by all of GBV's album titles.... I want to try to get it screenprinted up when I have the funds... or go through the band to do it, but I can't reach them. You can see it here:
https://x.com/JpMavroudis/status/1648466953181499399
Again... thanks for those memories! Amazing to experience these through eyes. (and yes. Their albums over the last 5 years are simply ASTOUNDING. This is the tightest version of the band ever... (and if you're going going to go for Pollard's side projects: BOSTON SPACESHIPS are absolutely phenomenal.)
This article gave me the feels. I too have an "instant band". Reading about here is a big affirmation. Thanks!