These are the words which the Lord spake to the prophet Pollard concerning the Philistines before their harrying of the Kingdoms of Pop and Rock and the peril his disciples faced:
"Concentrate not on reaching your disciples through familiar voices and sounds. Go forth and find your own voice, your true, pure voice. Heed this voice. Take the words you hear and mold them into poems, psalms. Then separate the wheat from the chaff. Gather the wheat into a sheaves, bind them well, and gather the members of your guild, those closest to your heart, and with fibers of granite guitar, weave the sheaves into hymns. Gather the hymns into an album. Call the album, Kid Marine (#1 In the Fading Captain Series). Sing this album aloud to the masses. Your disciples will feed on the marrow of your hymns, a taste they've come to know and understand, but they will rejoice in its new thickness and enduring flavor - its completeness and singularity of vision. But the bellies of the Philistines will know no satiety. They will destroy one another in an internecine battle over the worth of your labors. Do this now."
And he did.
These are the words which the prophet Pollard disseminated to the teeming masses from his rocky pulpit:
(From "Men Who Create Fright," verse II)
"When you exist/Are you observable?/When you resist/Are you approachable?/When you pretend/Are you unreadable?/The unspeakable must settle/On your spy frame mind/The reason you came here/Is the reason you flee/Always to the same place."
And the Philistines didn't understand him. His disciples didn't quite understand him either, but they felt that he was right. They felt that he knew.
And he sang to the multitude again:
(From "Far-Out Crops," verse I)
"Look to the outside/In the failing garden...Single-minded erections/Not so observable/From the inside/You must listen/You must look/In a soft-shelled vehicle/Gaze through this book/See them!"
And the Philistines grew more confused, and began to doubt their worth in the eyes of the Lord. They shifted restlessly where they stood, sending up thick clouds of dust. And Pollard's disciples moved closer to his feet, the better to hear his words.
Once again, he raised his voice above the mob:
(From "You Can't Hold Your Women," verse I)
"You the priest/You the creator of self pain/In the house you built/On stilts/Above the crashing waves/Psychic realtor."
And each Philistine thought that his companion was the subject of this hymn. And each accused his companion of deceit and falsity. And Pollard's disciples watched calmly from the base of his rocky pulpit as the Philistines slew one another, one by one.
Then the prophet Pollard spoke:
"It is accomplished."
If you like Kid Marine, check out:
Robert Pollard Not In My Airforce / Waved Out
Guided By Voices Alien Lanes
The Creation Making Time: The Complete Collection, Vol. 1
The Creation Biff Bang Pow! The Complete Collection, Vol. 2
Genesis The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway
The Who Meaty Beaty Big and Bouncy
Grandaddy Under the Western Freeway
David Bowie Hunky Dory
-- p
