It's been seven years since Bee Thousand helped this Dayton, Ohio band buzz its way out of total obscurity into the semi-obscure world of indie rock (and, in the process, helped to formally transform the adjective "lo-fi" from an audiophallic dis into an aesthetic unto itself). Five albums and numerous lineup changes later, Guided by Voices ringleader Robert Pollard has not only dug lo-fi's grave — he wants to slam the last nail in the coffin.
The first five seconds of "Glad Girls" dispels any delusion that Pollard wants to return to his home-recorded four-track roots. Right at the start, he sings, a cappella, "Heeyyyy glad girls!," just as the rest of the band, in unison, pounces on the word "girls." Throughout Isolation Drills, GBV's sound is filled out with a 1970s AM power pop polish that's as sweet as a bowl of ice cream topped with raspberries. Doug Gillard is able to balance pretty, chiming guitars with just the right amount of punch 'n' crunch, and his playing is supplemented by the deft rhythm section of Tim Tobias (bass) and Jim MacPherson (drums).
From the joyous "Glad Girls" to the gloomy "How's My Drinking?", Pollard staggeringly steers his way through a greater range of sounds and moods than ever before. "How's my drinking," Pollard sings with a subtle slur, "I don't care about being sober/ But I sure get around in this town/ To hell with my church bells/ And leave me die with you/ I won't change." The soft, slow, ringing guitar chords are passionately played, but it's the bass that provides the song's harmonic and emotional center point, further fleshed out by a guest appearance on organ by former GBV-er Tobin Sprout.
As a recording unit, this is Guided by Voices' most effective lineup, and despite the jingle-jangle joy brought by Gillard's guitar, it is newcomer Tobias' buoyant bass that's the secret weapon here. On the album's lead track, "Fair Touching", his ascending and descending lines are the kind of thing that can send the most stiff and jaded head bobbing — and if that doesn't do the trick, Pollard's infectious vocals provide a nice neck massage.
Ditching lo-fi aesthetics for a more radio-ready sound in the spirit of, say, the Raspberries or Badfinger, Pollard has wisely chosen not bury his songs in oblique lyrical references and muddy tape hiss. Although the band's last album, Do the Collapse, started this job, Isolation Drills finishes it with more direct songs, a tighter lineup, and an unapologetic desire to connect with a bigger audience.
