First cut straight out of the gate, I’m thinking, “My God, this is where Calvin Johnson escaped to!” ’Cause that first cut sounds exactly like the former Beat Happening frontman’s graveling, wavering baritone-bass. The song sounds weary. The singer sounds weary. But it’s a strange thing about singing in that range; someone singing low can pull you in like a slow-acting downer and a quick beer. Making you see things from his point of view as you get ready to relax on your Barcalounger.

Elsewhere, short, sharp, shocked songs pay tribute to Guided by Voices. Guitars fulminate, drum sticks click. Polk doesn’t sound baritone-druggy after the first cut, shifting through declaiming, yelping, protesting, sometimes waving off the listener. I wished for some more lyrical variety and for the vocals to be buried under less studio trickery, but all in all, the album is a passable portrait of a mind at work. But think about more Calvin-ating.