In the 90s, GBV are known for soaring Beatlesque melodies, short and smart acoustic and electric song structures, and the musty smell of basement productions. Their current material (the "low-fi" trilogy: "Vampire On Titus/Propeller," "Bee Thousand," and "Alien Lanes") is for the most part, rock/pop buried in an intriguing murk of tape hiss, static, amp hum, and general weirdness. What at first seems inaccessible turns into a grab bag of hooks and melodies with a decidedly humorous and depressing slant towards middle-America suburbia. GBV ain't love at first sight, but if you invest the time, the payoff is ten-fold.
Some of this material is underdeveloped (no endings, no verse-chorus-verse, too short, etc.) if played individually, but GBV have bigger fish to fry. They seem much more interested in atmosphere and spontaneity, and such snippets, stashed in between more developed material, is very effective in helping to create the eerie feel that surrounds the band's recorded sound. While Pollard and company have proven that they can write some truly great singles ("Metal Mothers," "Tractor Rape Chain," and "Motor Away" to name only three of many), GBV make albums that are best listened to as such.
"Box" contains five albums spanning from 1987 to 1993, including their first four LPs: "Devil Between My Toes," "Sandbox," "Self-Inflicted Aerial Nostalgia," "Same Place the Fly Got Smashed," respectively, and a compilation of unreleased material, "King Shit and the Golden Boys". The most interesting revelation in "Box" is that the band seems to be working backwards, or at least differently. Most artists opt for a cleaner sound with each trip to the studio, but GBV seem to be moving in the other direction. These early efforts are fairly polished compared to their current work.
The first two LPs, "Devil" and "Sandbox" adopt a clearer, albeit demo-like, 8-track sound which makes the band come off somewhat like the early Feelies or REM; adventurous polyrhythms, clean guitar lines, and smart lyrics. The structure of the music, while adventurous, is fairly conventional_ this is a band looking for its niche. Tone and texture experiments take a backseat to a defined, consistent sound. These are solid underground records that are well worth owning, but no new ground is broken.
"Self-Inflicted Aerial Nostalgia" and "Same Place the Fly Got Smashed" are clearly transitional records. "Fly" is the bridge between the more conventional "Sandbox" and the creepy edges explored on "Vampire On Titus." When the first four LPs are listened to in succession, you can "feel" the weirdness that seeps into "Aerial" and continues through "Fly". The band seems restless, giving the music a bite not so evident on previous efforts. The crafted pop sound of the first two records is bent into a more basic approach. The song writing and delivery are confident and the hazy, gray production, soon to become a GBV trademark, rears its head. The band knew they were onto something and the result is two pioneering records; guideposts to genius. No small feat in today's market.
"King Shit and the Golden Boys" contains assorted material arranged into three time periods (88', 91', and 93'), mirroring the band's transitional periods. There are some true standouts (e.g., "Squirmish Frontal Room," "Indian Was An Angel," "Postal Blowfish"), but this one takes a little longer to swallow because of production values; yet it's arguably the best of the five once digested.