Mirrored Aztec is the next edition to Guided by Voices’ long, long span of recordings, which come out in threes on a good year. It has all the marks of being a GBV record with its poppy hooks and songs played in less-than-three-minute bursts. The artwork on the front cover has traded its usual vintage photo/cubic modern art style for a mural worthy for the side of a hippie van or on the side of a building in Milwaukee’s South Side.
At first, it’s hard to dig into this album and look back at mid-‘90s hits like Bee Thousand or Alien Lanes and pull out the differences. GBV’s newer albums have better fidelity, their guitars are cleaner-sounding and Robert Pollard sounds a little like Bob Mould now. But Mirrored Aztec lacks energetic, bass-driven riffs like Japanther’s Don’t Trust Anyone Over 30 or hypnotizing hooks like Unwound’s grungy first album. In short: like all other indie rockers at their age, GBV jams a little more slowly nowadays.
There are 16 songs on this record and around half of them have the same structures from the past five-or-so GBV records. They’re mid-tempo indie rock with alt-country riffs and shoegaze-y distortion, reminiscent of bands like Yo La Tengo or Sebadoh. The problem is nothing that could be pointed out here couldn’t be pointed out in their albums for the past five years. Plus, the band usually gives its songs a two-minute window to grow and evolve in. But with 16 songs there is the guarantee of subtle diversity.
“I Think I Had It. I Think I Have It Again” is a promising opening song with some simple chords with Pollard leading a call/response chorus over them. “Bunco Men” has a catchy chorus that incorporates dual-take vocals and warm-sounding rhythm guitar. “To Keep an Area” uses synth sounds and reminisces of fuzzy-sounding Brit-pop. “Please Don’t Be Honest” opens with prog-like lead guitar notes and a lucid bridge, like a late ‘70s power pop song written at the original Woodstock. The name also might be a reference to a previous album, Please Be Honest.
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The band deserves credit for recording their last 15-or-so albums on their own label and still finding the time, money and sanity to record, especially in a madhouse year like 2020. Spotify’s servers are grinding right now, so if you want to listen to it in the best way, order it at your local record store. If you’re a passionate GBV fan, you probably already had it pre-ordered and it’s buried amongst your Uncle Tupelo records somewhere. Either way, wear a mask when you go out and happy record hunting.
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