Show Pics: Guided By Voices @ Mohawk (6/20)

B. Gray’s note: We have a little bonus show coverage for you today, Guided By Voices played The Mohawk and we got Raphael Umscheid out of the studio and into the crowd with the simple task of enjoying himself in a shower of Lone Star.

“Shit Yeah, It’s Cool!”

Everyone knows the lyrics to Guided By Voices’ songs and they are eager to sing loudly as a flurry of beer suds ascend into the air. Guided By Voices took the stage in the early Summer Texas heat, in support of their latest album “Space Gun”, in coordinated shiny gold jackets with the album title affixed to the jacket backs. Within the span of a typically short GBV song, Pollard was removing the jacket for the comforts of cotton. The band followed their leader’s queue within a song or two. The energetic 60 song set covered a wide range of albums and hits. Pollard worked the old school rock cliches to full effect.

Photos of GBV and opener Park Doing with show notes after the break.

1. Strut to the back of the stage and take a bottle of tequila out and take a hearty swig and offer the rest to the Jack Black look alike, die hard fan in the front row.

2. Call out the song title and album (how does he even remember anymore…. 103 albums!).

3. Stand on one leg like a flamingo and give the over the shoulder look.

4. Stage front, mic pressed to mouth with various degrees of slur that correspondingly increases as progress on that set list is made.

5. Requisite high kick on queue with amazing flexibility; I wonder if he is secretly taking pilates and who his instructor could be.

6. Song is over, repeat.

It was a full sing along especially during the latter half of the set. The audience was mirroring the tone set by Pollard. Strangers toasted me. I yelled, “MY CAN IS EMPTY!” as i crushed the can. The exuberant GBV brother poured my a half beer and then did a pull up in the rafters.

Total success and a night to help forget those workday blues. “Most of us are quite pleased with the same old song…”

P.S. Opener Park Doing, a friend of Pollard’s from high school days in Dayton, played a short, fun set of looped guitars and repetitive lyrics that stuck to your head like bubble gum.