For first-time listeners, _Let’s Go Eat The Factory_ might seem like a strange name indeed for a rock album, but upon even a cursory listen it’s an apt label for a release that seems like a work in progress. It wouldn’t be the first from songwriter Robert Pollard and his indie-rock brainchild Guided By Voices. From Dayton, Ohio, the group hit its peak in the ’90s, patenting a distinct brand of low-fi garage rock free of the stoner pretense of groups like Pavement, instead infusing its compositions with a lighter touch that bordered on whimsy. When the ingredients mixed well, it was a winner; Pollard definitely has a knack for uncovering pop hooks underneath scuzzy sonic exteriors.
Unfortunately, the notoriously prolific writer tends to occasionally pen tunes that exchange brevity for all-out fragmentation. Songs sometimes barely reached the minute mark, and to compensate, the rest of the group sometimes needed to resort to almost dirge-like filler to combat the sweetness. The group’s latest release, _Let’s Go Eat The Factory_, is the first since their reunion and a return of all the players responsible for such ’90s low-fi hallmarks as _Bee Thousand_ and _Mag Earwhig!_ Clearly the factory is a bit rusty, its fragments and wanderings (barely) held together, but these uncertainties are swallowed by a pure enthusiasm for the craft. The result is an album as shambling and slyly melodic as it is sprawling and unfocused: an effort that will be swallowed up by fans and at least worth a listen for those curious about low-fi music. The contrast between the short pop tunes and long experiments isn’t elegant, but it’s enough.
From the band’s beginning, Pollard’s strength has always been injecting a sardonic sense of humor into compositions that slowly reveal their hooks through the crackly haze. It’s an age-old formula done extremely well. Tracks like “How I Met My Mother” and “God Loves Us” sound almost primitive — stiff guitar chugs and slippery bass lines come off as if they were recorded in a basement, but there lies the charm. Combined with Pollard’s ingenious melodic structures, they become quaint little exercises in classic garage rock, made even more so considering the approximate 90 seconds the band gives each track. There’s incessant experimentation with this formula, however. “Chocolate Boy” lightens it up with airy acoustic guitars and string work, “Doughnut for A Snowman” adds some lovely, weirdly appropriate recorder lines, and “Either Nelson” has some wonky piano additions that complement the zaniness of the composition.
These nuggets are fine enough, but _Factory_’s true strengths come out when the band is given time to flesh out the work and create some actual songs. “Imperial Racehorsing” starts off slow but builds to a stomping conclusion with some fiery guitar work from Mitch Mitchell pushing the group beyond their comfort level. That level is broken again on the album’s highlight, “Spiderfighter.” Acrid guitars and relentless tempi of the first half dissolve into a lovely piano coda, and the band seems in total balance with its 4-track mastery and melodic potential.
Unfortunately, this balance is fairly elusive in _Let’s Go Eat The Factory_. Too often, styles don’t quite mesh and the constant gearshifts in the 22-song sprawl make for an inconsistent listen. For every high mentioned earlier, there are some curious lows, from “The Things That Never Need” and its odd spoken-word fragments to “Cyclone Utilities (Remember Your Birthday)” reminding listeners of the bad kind of Frank Zappa music, cripplingly self-conscious and inaccessible.
In the end, the record is more interesting than accessible, which has in some ways always been the case with Guided By Voices’ music. This, then, makes _Let’s Go Eat The Factory_ a perfect introduction to the group, as well as a reminder that low-fi will always have its place in modern music, best served by groups who know its simplicities enough to make its something more and substantive.