The GBV Project — Week 18: Do the Collapse

The Releases: Do the Collapse (LP—TVT, 1999) / Teenage FBI (Single—Creation, 1999) / Surgical Focus (Single—TVT, 1999) / Hold on Hope (EP—TVT, 2000) / Dayton, Ohio-19 Something and 5 (EP—The Fading Captain Series, 2000)

It was bound to happen. At some point after breaking through to indie-level stardom during the mid-nineties, it was inevitable that Guided by Voices would eventually find themselves in a fancy studio for the purpose of recording a big budget album. Robert Pollard’s love for the widescreen rock spectacle of The Who, his affinity for prog, and his seemingly-limitless ambition all but foretold it. After all, lo-fi had been a choice born of necessity, not one based on a principled rejection of the finer things—and any claim to the contrary was generally posturing or self-defense.

It was bound to happen. At some point after achieving hard-earned recognition, it was inevitable that Guided by Voices would eventually work with a hotshot producer. After all, Robert Pollard was enough of a student of pop music history to understand how instrumental the likes of George Martin, Ken Scott, and Andy Johns had been in crafting the records that he loved most. And while Steve Wilbur and Tobin Sprout had performed admirably in the role—especially given the constraints of economy—Pollard needed someone outside of his Dayton inner circle to land GBV on mainstream airwaves. He needed someone who could instill a sense of perfectionism and discipline on the band; more so than the ‘engineer-only’ approach of Steve Albini, or the drinking-buddy-turned-producer Kim Deal. While those indie rock icons had both worked with GBV at various points during the sessions for Under the Bushes Under the Stars, their comparatively light touch resulted in a record that was more of a half-measure than a wholesale reinvention.

It was bound to happen. After putting their first EP out on a local label “without permission,” Guided by Voices had risen through the ranks of indie imprints: Halo, Scat, City Slang, Domino, Matador. The last of these was arguably the most prestigious independent record label in America, but with Pavement on the verge of a ‘hiatus’ that felt more like a breakup, GBV were unchallenged as Matador’s marquee act. But after Mag Earwhig it appeared that Matador had taken GBV as far as they possibly could, which was still only to moderate success. Yes, for Guided by Voices to really make it, they needed a label that could truly push a record—one whose promotional budget didn’t place a cap on commercial expectations.

It was bound to happen. After fifteen years of revolving door lineups, often filled out by self-proclaimed ‘non-musicians,’ Robert Pollard needed to find consistency in his collaborators. The so-called “classic lineup” had fallen apart between Under the Bushes and Mag Earwhig, beset by family obligations, addiction, bruised egos, and the promise of more stable occupations. The ‘Guided by Verde’ lineup had imploded in much shorter time, done in by competing ambitions and personality clashes. Pollard pulled Doug Gillard from the wreckage, and added Breeders’ drummer Jim MacPherson alongside a returning Greg Demos—on hiatus from his law career—to the mix to create the most ‘professional’ GBV roster to date.

And it was bound to happen. After a winning streak that still seems dizzying with a quarter-century of hindsight, Guided by Voices was well overdue to deliver an album that left both long-time fans and the typically-fawning rock press cold. They were bound to release a record that sounded labored over; a record that found Pollard often sounding like a parody of himself; a record whose best song had already been released (in superior fashion) two years prior. Yes, GBV were set for a genuine dud.

And now—after triggering those of you who pushed against the prevailing critical opinion from the moment that Do the Collapse dropped in the summer of 1999, or those who are part of the oft-cited ‘reputation rebound’ that the album has apparently experienced—here’s where I capitulate; at least a little bit. While I agree with much of the criticism of Collapse—and have a few comparatively unique gripes about it—I find it to be far from the outright disaster that its most vocal detractors have long claimed it to be. Yep, even when given the chance to actually pan a GBV record, I still can’t do it. After all, Do the Collapse is still a GBV record.

I won’t relitigate everything that I like, hate, and tolerate about Do the Collapse. It’s unlikely that it would change any minds, and that’s not what I’m trying to do anyway. Really, if you love this one, I’m kind of envious of that; even though I’d wager that, for many, it’s at least partially out of nostalgia—after all, I have multiple friends for whom Collapse was their first GBV record. And if this had been my gateway to “Exit Flagger,” “Indian Was an Angel,” “Little Whirl,” and “The Best of Jill Hives,” I’d probably love it too. I love plenty of ‘not great’ albums for sentimental reasons—including one produced by the same guy that was at the helm of Collapse—and I’m not in the business of taking that away from anybody.

And if you hate Do the Collapse, I’m also weirdly kind of envious of you too. As of this week, I’m about one-third of the way through this project, and I’m still plenty happy devoting a majority of my listening time in 2025 to Guided by Voices. And whether it’s Do the Collapse, Sandbox, Please Be Honest, or some surprise contender that ends up claiming the title of my least-favorite GBV record by the end of the year, it’ll still be a record that I don’t hate. I kinda wish there was one that I did—if only to assure myself that I’m not actually part of a cult. So yeah, if you hate Do the Collapse, hate away. I won’t argue with you in the same way that I would if you suggested that Devil Between My Toes sucks; because it doesn’t, and you’re wrong.

No, I’m just merely ‘okay’ with Do the Collapse. Its two singles,”Teenage FBI” and “Surgical Focus,” are both very good—especially the former, despite the already-mentioned superior 1997 take that appeared on Wish In One Hand. “Things I Will Keep” is a plenty-satisfying example of ‘hi-fi’ GBV; and as a bonus, it did nothing to slow the momentum of the consistently-brilliant 2003 compilation Human Amusements at Hourly Rates. “Wrecking Now” is quite lovely, and stands as a highlight of a ‘4th quarter’ that finds Robert Pollard in particularly fine form as a vocalist. I don’t even hate “Hold on Hope”; sure it’s a bit saccharine, but it’s nowhere near the disaster (or GBV nadir) that Pollard and others have cited it as.

But this is also an album where Bob Pollard’s quirks can kind of come off as a schtick. While there’s some truth to the pair-any-two-random-words-together-for-a-typical-GBV-song critique, you try writing something as melodic and endearing as earlier-career highlights like “Postal Blowfish,” “Chicken Blows,” or even “Melted Pat” (go ahead, I’ll wait…). However, on Do the Collapse, tracks like “Optical Hopscotch,” “Strumpet Eye,” and “Mushroom Art” sound about as inspired as their tossed-off titles, while “Liquid Indian” is a nice-sounding song bogged down by insipid lyrics, and “Zoo Pie” feels as if it were designed primarily as a vehicle for Jim MacPherson’s drum fills.

And all of that comes before even addressing the production, courtesy of Ric Ocasek. On paper, a collaboration between the architects of The Cars and Alien Lanes sounds like a power pop dream come true; and there are times at which Do the Collapse nearly delivers on that potential. The aforementioned highlights are all varying degrees of excellent—even if Ocasek’s predilection for the slick and shiny can occasionally sand off a little too much of the rough edges that helped to made GBV such a breath of fresh air. Still, when the emphasis is squarely on melody, this Pollard/Ocasek joint is plenty charming.

But none of this gets to the most baffling thing about Do the Collapse. If the album were really Robert Pollard’s great play for the big time, shouldn’t he have put his best material from the sessions on the record? I’m far from the first person to suggest that the songs on the Hold on Hope EP—released seven months later—are generally superior to those found on Collapse. Even the title track sounds better in this context. And even songs that were omitted altogether—like “Perfect This Time,” released a year later on the nearly-identical EP Daredevil Stamp Collector—outshine most of the Collapse material.

So, what gives? I mean, it’s often said that artists are the worst judges of their own work; but in Robert Pollard’s case, his instincts were usually spot on. Look at the various incarnations of Bee Thousand that Pollard tinkered with before landing on the genuine perfection of the finished product. Look at the flawless ‘GBV mixtape’ that is the aforementioned Human Amusements. Could it be that one of Pollard’s greatest artistic gifts was beginning to fail him as he entered into the middle-aged phase of his career? I could launch a deeper investigation. After all, as the executive producer of The GBV Project, I have full authority to authorize an extra week of study for Do the Collapse.

But I’m not gonna do it. First, there’s a 100-song release coming up next week that I’m far from intimately familiar with, and I’m genuinely excited to fully dive into it for the first time. But also, this is the first Guided by Voices album in a long time—all the way back to Sandbox—that I can honestly say I’m underwhelmed by. Maybe next time, Bob.

Ratings: Do the Collapse (6.8) / Teenage FBI (★★★★1/2) / Surgical Focus (★★★★) / Hold on Hope (8.0) / Dayton, Ohio-19 Something and 5 (6.6)*

*Singles are star-rated by their A-side; albums and EPs use the “Russman Reviews” scale.

Bob-ism of the Week: “I’m a born again boot stomping witch-humper.” (“Liquid Indian”)

Next Week: We’re going on a long trip. Pack your Suitcase.