If a bomb had gone off at First Avenue on Tuesday night, we would have lost three-quarters of our local record clerks, half the staff at the Turf Club and an incalculable number of untucked plaid shirts. Amazingly, though, three-quarters of the musicians who played in Guided by Voices would still be around -- but not any of the ones who defined the Ohio band.
The so-called "heyday" lineup of GBV that played to a sold-out crowd Tuesday (dating 1993-1996) was not the most longevous in the group's twisted history, nor was it even the best one musically (I'd personally give that award to the final era). But it was the one that had the most personal chemistry and that seemed to, well, be the most GBV-like, traits that shined as bright as the old neon bar light hanging behind the stage declaring, "The club is open."
Of course, the '93-'96 graduates had a whole lot of songs to their credit, too, the kinds of songs that grown men in the audience rowdily sang into each other's faces like indie-rock Garth Brooks fans. By my count, the band played 40 on Tuesday, clocking in right near two hours with three encores. Even while focusing on that relatively short era of the discography, Bob Pollard was able to dust off a lot of nuggets from his canon, including quite a few songs every GBV fan should know, such as the opener "Salty Salute," third song "Tractor Rape Chain," "I Am a Scientist," "Cut-Out Witch" and the encore toppers "Motor Away" and "Exit Flagger." Some of the lesser-known highlights included the extra-punky "Lethargy," the darkly melodic "Jar of Cardinals" and the final encore opener, "Johnny Appleseed," which nicely set up the similarly arty and epic-sized (for these guys) "Weed King" as the finale. Other songs -- to just throw out random titles from the set -- included "Buzzards and Dreadful Crows," "Break Even," "Hot Freaks," "Striped White Jets," "Goldheart Mountaintop Queen Directory," "Awful Bliss," "Gold Star for Robot Boy" and, my personal favorite (I'm a softie for the softer ones), "Don't Stop Now."
Nothing too wild or unusual happened behaviorally on stage. In fact, the guys sort of acted their ages. Pollard made all his usual kicks and microphone twirls and seemed relatively sober, at least compared to guitarist Mitch Mitchell, who blurted out, "We all know why we came to Minneapolis: for the [rhymes with Lucy]." On the more touching side, Pollard gave bassist Greg Demos a big hug at the start of the second encore. It was definitely a sweet kind of show that merited public displays of affection over public intoxication.
