We all know the legend: before Bob Pollard became a full-time musician, he was a fourth grade English teacher. In fact, he once had his students color in the album cover for Guided by Voices' Propeller album. So, in keeping with the tradition of Pollard educating the young in the ways of rock, Pitchfork proudly presents: The Bob Pollard Guide to Writing and Performing Music:

There's no such thing as a throwaway
People love records. The more records you put out, the more people will like you. Naturally, this means writing as many songs as you can. I recommend setting up a tape recorder, taking in a 12-pack of beer, noodling around on your guitar, drinking a few more beers, and then waking up a few days later and listening to what you did. There may be some good songs there.

Never use the same band twice
This is a big one. Bands are like beers. Once you've been through one, you want another. And another. And you can't drink Bud all the time. Sometimes you have to switch it up. Go with a Guinness or a Harp. Maybe a Heineken once in a while. Remember Zima? I liked a Zima now and again, but I have to say, a nice, warm Sam Adams tops 'em all. Of course, you never want to use bands from outside of your own state.

Words are alright, and more importantly, necessary
I never thought there were enough words in rock music. I recommend picking at least two unrelated words and stringing them together. Then write a song about it. Some possibilities: "telephone hazings," "everest imaging," "fraternal nightingale..." It's a pretty simple process. Hey, if you get really good at it, you can even try alliterating a bit: like "robotic reasons" or "the fantastic frying football fillet." This is a basic trick that will have you writing and performing music of some kind in no time.

Re-use songs
This is cool. Sometimes a song is so good, you can't release it just once. Also, sometimes you might be too drunk to remember which songs you've already released. Like this one time when I was recording this song with Doug Easley or someone, and we were just knocking 'em back. Anyway, it was like three in the morning, and the well ran dry. All we needed was just maybe another half a beer between us and this song would turn out awesome. So we dug around in my fridge and we found this old, stale open can of Pabst from probably like six months earlier. And I just figured the alcohol had evaporated, but Doug found it had kind of fermented into this really potent, sickeningly sweet, weird beer. Anyway, we finished it off, and it was sick as hell, but we definitely thought it was stronger than Everclear. We were just on the floor, trying to finish this song. Anyway, shit happened and we got the song done, and we realized after we put it out that it was just "Kicker of Elves" played faster.

Sound British
Another biggie. People love British people.

There was a time when Pollard could pull songs out of his ass that most songwriters would spend their lives trying to compose. But, as Do the Collapse demonstrated, those days appear over. The band's new nine-song EP, Hold On Hope, which consists mostly of outtakes from Do the Collapse, is more of the same over-produced junk Pollard seems infatuated with these days.

"A Crick Uphill" is a feeble attempt at alt-country; the kind of boring, weak shit one would expect to find on Kid Marine. "Idiot Princess," aka "Snuff Movie (She's Gone)," aka "Reptilian Beauty Secrets," which was released on the "fanclub-only" album Tonics and Twisted Chasers, is a mediocre blast of unfocused fuzz. "Underground Initiations," "Interest Positions," "Avalanche Aminos," and "Do the Collapse," all sound like what they are; leftovers from Do the Collapse. And while Ric Ocasek's production is, in Pollard's words, "slick as snails," the glossy coating can't hide the fact that Pollard is on the verge of losing his muse. The only really worthwhile track on this EP is "Tropical Robots;" a 40-second acoustic ballad that harkens back to the good old days of GBV when UFOs were hardcore, demons were real, and blimps went 90.

The funny thing is that all of these outtakes are better than the actual album cut: the sugary sweet "Hold On Hope." Note to Bob: we all liked it better when your lyrics were whimsical and absurd instead of trite and infuriatingly dull. "Everybody's got to hold on hope/ It's the last thing that's holding me." If Pollard's recent output is any indication, he'd better hold on hope that the elementary school he used to work at will take him back.

-Matt LeMay