It is something remarkable that Robert Pollard, of the Guided by Voices fame, still crafts interesting music. One of the great economical songwriters, he has built a sprawling discography from just a handful of guitar chords and well-worn rhythms. And we are not talking about a triumph of quantity over quality here—Pollard has to his name some of the great albums and songs of the last twenty years. Moreover, there is no Robert Pollard formula as there is for AC/DC or The Ramones. Sure, his music falls around the intersection of punk, folk, and classic rock, but that would be a reductive generalization. Hinging largely on Pollard’s versatile vocals—think Roger Daltrey with the bombast dialed down—his songs are in some instances rousing, in others contemplative, and in still others simply bizarre. All that said, the question that a veteran songwriter like Pollard poses to the listener is this: to what degree can he still be inspired and compelling?

With 2010’s “Our Cubehouse Still Rocks,” Pollard gives us yet another chance to weigh the evidence. His new band, Boston Spaceships, is something of an indie rock super-group. Chris Slusarenko, the band’s bassist, played with Pollard in Guided By Voices, whose 1994 release

“Bee Thousand” is considered one of best albums of the 90s. The band’s drummer, John Moen, is likewise no stranger to critical acclaim, being a member of the folk rock group The Decemberists. The three band members make, in many ways, the music you would expect. The feel is distinctly Pollardian—garage rock immediacy tinged with the ethereal. The album is, however, uncharacteristically inconsistent. There are some gems scattered about, but some insignificant numbers as well. That makes for a worthy addition to the Pollard oeuvre, but nothing to dot this millennium’s best-of lists.

The album begins with the competent opener “Track Star,” which, while not among the record’s best, does evince one of the its strengths: the coherent vision of each song. “Our Cubehouse Still Rocks” is largely written by Pollard, and there is a skillful unity among the elements that comprise the music. “Track Star” begins with a steady acoustic guitar riff punctuated with booming down strokes from a second axe. Underneath, a metronomic snare beats away at half-speed—just constant enough to make the listener slightly uncomfortable. Here, the instruments all work towards a common purpose—to evoke in the listener the titular protagonist’s baseline anxiety.

Pollard maintains this tight composition throughout the album. The kinetic closing song, “In the Bathroom (Up ½ The Night),” is among the record’s best. Pollard’s unique and inspired songwriting makes this track a rare gem that rocks hard even when played softly. Quite strikingly, there is no steady drum beat during the opening verse. Instead, Moen is locked in rock solo mode, providing smatterings of percussion on impulse. Then, the guitars cut out as the drums break into a beat that slowly winds down as if the recording tape were melting. All of a sudden, the guitars surge back with the drum beat resurrected at full tempo, ushering in the song’s exhilarating chorus. As with the album’s opener, Pollard uses instrumental interplay to craft music that moves.

It is during the more subdued songs that the album’s momentum flags. To be sure, a few of the record’s laid-back numbers are its highlights. With its majestic one-note chorus, falling in and out of harmony with the pounding guitar riff underneath, “Unshaven Bird” is a dramatic ballad of sorts. Nonetheless, the less urgent songs tend to fall prey to Pollard’s predilection for lethargic, spacey moods. In “Dunkirk is Frozen,” the monotonous vocals are drenched in reverb, blending into the fuzzed-out ether of the guitar. Though the song succeeds in creating the stoned mood it targets, it lacks the edge needed to keep the listener’s focus.

The problem posed by these uninspiring songs is compounded by the album’s organization. Pollard’s songwriting on “Our Cubehouse Still Rocks” expresses itself along two contrasting poles. On some tracks, Pollard’s poppy melodies break through the lo-fi haze of his guitar work. In others, his melodies drone, fading into the musical backing. Had the latter songs been interspersed with the former, a redemptive dynamic may have been established. However, as the album is sequenced, Pollard’s shoegazing numbers are bunched into sleepy suites.

Nonetheless, “Our Cubehouse Still Rocks” is, when taken as a whole, a solid album from a great artist. Here’s to hoping, though, that Pollard’s next effort will have the energy to carry all of his strenghts.

—Staff Writer Mark A. Fusunyan can be reached at fusunyan@fas.harvard.edu.