Soldiers of June

There was a time when I dismissed Robert Pollard's Circus Devils project. I had been burned a few times already -- Nightwalker, anyone? -- and after the noisy CD debut, Ringworm Interiors, I vowed that this was one side project that I'd sit out. That lasted until the announced release of the next, The Harold Pig Memorial. Like an abused girlfriend I gave in to Pollard's smooth talk and gave him another chance. I'm glad I did, for this album was everything I felt it's predecessor was not: an experimental tangent that didn't sacrifice hooks and melody at the altar of difficulty.

A song like "Soldiers of June" is a good example. It's a short, jangly little song that could stand as an instrumental, but Pollard delivers a solid vocal that is propelled by earnestness. Not only that, but for perhaps the first and only time, a Pollard concept album actually seems to follow the concept for more than a song or two. This track in particular is a pivotal piece of the story, a coming of age chapter in the life of Harold, a third person view of his father's pride in the way his son had turned out. He taught him to "eat, drink, fuck and hold his gun," they took excursions where they would "swim naked and baked" and sat in mountain hotels "counting holes in the moon." It's downright poetic, and shows that, despite later slips in the quality of his countless side projects, Pollard was at least paying attention at this point.