I don't know if there's anyone, anywhere, ever, who can claim to be a songwriter quite as prolific as Bob Pollard in the history of pop music. This, however, is a mixed blessing. The knock on Bob has always been that self-censorship isn't always exactly his strong point, and I think it's a fair criticism, especially in the face of his myriad recent releases, both solo and as GBV, which have shown an alarming tendency toward being about 25% brilliant indie pop and about 75% self-indulgent filler. A friend of mine liked to compare post "Under the Bushes" GBV albums to post "The Shining" Stephen King books - the occasional decent effort, but by and large a whole lot of crap. (I guess that would make the horrible Ric Ocasek produced "Do the Collapse" the aural equivalent of "The Tommyknockers".... anyway, it's a comparison I found strangely apt). In the old days, it was almost like Tobin Sprout acted as a kind of filter for Bob's muse, so well did their partnership work (Tobin coming up with some gems of his own, of course). But Tobin's gone, and that fact has to be faced.
So - this album. I don't quite know what to make of it overall. There are parts of it I really enjoy, like "Best of Jill Hives", probably because it sounds the most like the old and now defunct GBV. There are large parts of the album I am relatively indifferent toward, a good example being "Of Mites and Men" which just sounds like pointless noodling to me, and there are parts I really dislike. I mean, really, "I'll Replace You With Machines"? It plays like a bad cover of a Who b-side. And this is the maddening thing about being a Bob Pollard fan. He always seems to leave you expecting more. This is not a horrible album, and nine-tenths of it is still better than the best commercial pap being played on the radio. But for those of us who know Bob, we'll just have to continue waiting for the next masterpiece to come along.