When Athens first met Ohio-based rock band Guided by Voices in the fall of 1994, the quintet had already been playing its unique blend of power-pop, garage and British Invasion-rock for eight years—mostly in singer Robert Pollard's Dayton basement studio. But '94 marked the beginning of a new phase for GBV. The band's buzz-generating Bee Thousand had just come out on the hip Matador label that summer. It made a huge splash on college and alternative rock radio, and even caught the attention of "120 Minutes."

At the 40 Watt, Pollard stood at the stagefront, just steps away from a massive beer cooler stationed in front of drummer Kevin Fennell's kit. Guitarists Tobin Sprout and Mitch Mitchell flanked Pollard on either side. Jim Greer (an editor for Spin magazine at the time) was on bass, sitting in for founding member Greg Demos.

During the most rocking moments of the set, Pollard spun his microphone like a spazzy Roger Daltrey and delivered soccer-punt high kicks. The group's solid delivery and cool personality made a powerful impression on those hearing and seeing the band for the first time.

"[T]he reception we got from the fans on that tour was incredible," Sprout remembers. "We didn't expect that. We knew we had fans, but it was much bigger and crazy than we expected. They loved it and rocked as hard as we did… I don't remember a lot about some of the tours, but for some reason, I can remember that show."

Despite artistic and commercial success, the original GBV lineup dissolved in 1997. Pollard carried on, enlisting members of Cleveland rock act Cobra Verde to record Mag Earwhig!, a heavier, riffier affair. Pollard and guitarist Doug Gillard led GBV through several more albums and lineup changes throughout the next eight years, before the group officially disbanded in 2004. Most fans assumed that the GBV journey would end there, but in 2010, the classic lineup unexpectedly reconvened.

"It just came together; one step led to another," Sprout says. "It just seemed to pick up where we left off. It clicked right away, and we still remembered how to play most of the songs."

In characteristically prolific style, the reunion resulted in two new full-length albums: Let's Go Eat the Factory and Class Clown Spots a UFO. Released within six months of each other, both records are 21-song collections of typical GBV pop, rock and mischief.

"I don't really look at Factory as a reunion album," Sprout says. "It just seems like the next album in line, followed by Class Clown. It seems by the time we finish an album, we're already on the next with not much time to reflect."

The saturated guitar tones and room-simple drum sounds on Class Clown more closely resemble the production qualities of the band's early albums than Pollard's slicker records of the late '90s and 2000s. Sprout says there was an intentional no-frills approach in the studio.

"We'd wanted to get back to basics, but sometimes it's better to use what is available at the time," Sprout says. "I took a long time mixing Factory, and I had to overdub some of the drums just because of how badly I had recorded them."

Sprout now resides in the small northern Michigan town of Leland; he says it's a challenge to find time to travel to rehearse with the band. He often pitches song ideas and sketches via demos. "I know when Bob sends me songs he has written, I have to write more songs," he says. "I like deadlines. If I have a deadline, I will kind of lock myself in the studio and write for a week or two. It's slow at first, and then it all comes together. I think it makes a difference when everyone has a hand in the creation of a song.

"I don't think the chemistry has changed," he continues. "It was there when we first got together, and it's still here. I don't think that happens with a lot of bands, and it's most likely the reason we can still make records."

Indeed, the reunited Guided by Voices is already finishing tracks for the next album, and bandmembers have plenty of travel plans in the works, as well.

"I like being on the road now," Sprout says. "We didn't have cell phones in the '90s. I still sometimes see a pay phone and get this image of finding change, dialing the number over and over, trying to get connected to home—letting home know where you are, numbers where you can be reached. Now, you're in touch all the time. Going away doesn't seem as far away.

"We're looking forward to this month's trip," he adds. "We haven't [ever] been to some of the places we are playing on this tour. [And] I'm looking forward to playing for people who haven't seen us in a while."