Deep into Guided by Voices' second reunion LP, Class Clown Spots a UFO, Bob Pollard makes an out-of-character suggestion: "be impeccable." Whoever he's talking to, it's not himself. Pollard, long prone to spiking even his most gloriously imperfect songs with out-there choruses, waves of static, and commercial prospect-shattering titles like "Game of Pricks", is not our foremost expert in matters of the immaculate. January's Let's Go Eat the Factory, the strange, spotty comeback album from GBV's "classic era" lineup, could've doubled down on Bob's back-bleacher arena-rockers or Tobin Sprout's tucked-in power-poppers, possibly earning them some new fans. But Factory wore its flaws proudly, sidestepping any and all easy "hey, we're back!" triumphalism and overeager "look how we've grown!" progressivism for a show-up-and-plug-in casualness that couldn't have come from any other GBV. So it goes with Class Clown Spots a UFO, their second LP on the year. Class Clown is shorter, punchier, and a lot livelier than Factory, but impeccable? Nothing doing there.
Tobin Sprout's age-defying voice and surplus of solid songs helped his return to the fold on Factory seem especially triumphant. This time around, it's Bob's show all the way. Class Clown's title track, a resurrected gem plucked from the outtakes collections Suitcase 3, deserves to stand as the resurrected GBV's new rallying cry. It's one of those dizzyingly catchy Pollard songs that seems to sew two or three viable hooks together, its criss-crossing chorus the product of some serious craftsmanship on Pollard's part. Next to Factory, his rockers are leaner and less fraught, while his ballads are more straightforward and more plainly gorgeous. Still, beyond "Class Clown" and "Keep It In Motion", Pollard seems the looser dude here, providing Class Clown with nearly all of its gnarlier rockers and oddball overtures.
Though Pollard is warmed up, Sprout's a bit stiffer. Long the classicist of the pair, Sprout's stately pop songs, at their best, play off Pollard's woolier mammoths in a way that does both sides favors. Here, though, his songs are too tame, seeming beamed in from another record. The especially bland "Starfire" finds Toby singing "worlds are falling down like raindrops" over an uninspired, starched-shirt string arrangement. The stripped-bare, minute-long "Lost in Space" is a good showcase for his striking voice, but it feels like a retread of Factory's similarly spare, Sprout-sung blip "Who Invented the Sun". Sprout's never been the font his buddy Pollard is, but after gracing Factory with some striking shiners, this pace of output seems to be stretching his songbook a bit thin.
Factory might've nailed that rickety old GBV feel, but the songs often seemed secondary to the sound. On Class Clown, a window's opened in Factory's dank back-basement and the songs make their way closer to the light. The production's brighter, the melodies more generous, and the songs themselves more fully formed. Still, as on Factory, pains have been taken to approximate the oversaturated, unpredictable feel of the classic-era LPs; writhing highlight "Tyson's High School" lets one of the set's best hooks-- standing "Be True to Your School" on its head-- ooze out of a psych-jam sludge, "Blue Babbleships Bay" goofily thrashes for 90 seconds before pulling the plug on itself, and "Worm w/ 7 Broken Hearts" ends quickly enough you'll wonder whether they actually got around to the "7 Broken Hearts" bit. This stuff gives the eclectic, at-all-angles Class Clown at least a spot of cohesion. But at times, the only thing holding the album together is its constant forward motion. A bit more of the title track's immediacy couldn't hurt matters; the best of the rest are growers, and they make you work for them. They've been peppering their recent sets with tunes from the new LPs, but as much as there is to like about the sputtering "Roll of the Dice" or the flat-out stunning "Chain to the Moon", they haven't earned the right to bump "Choking Tara" off the setlist just yet.
Being a Guided by Voices fan means adjusting your expectations for what makes a good record; when even Bee Thousand has its "Kicker of Elves", there's always the threat that things could get silly or stilted. Guided by Voices' 2012 output feels especially volatile in this way; Class Clown is full of left-turns and detours, willing to spike some of its better hooks simply to keep things interesting. Upon their return, a lesser band might've jettisoned the mess and noise of those classic records, leaving little but pure pop. But GBV Mark II have thus far proven way too ornery for that, and despite an uptick in catchiness, Class Clown's odd-angled pop and jittery arena rock keeps the weirdness on par with its predecessor. Granted, the sneakily tuneful Class Clown is still a few miles from impeccable. But that's what makes it a Guided by Voices album.
