Robert Pollard isn't just a hilarious drunk, he's also one of the most prolific recording artists in popular music. He's released 22 albums since 1987, and that's just studio albums under the Guided by Voices umbrella. This isn't counting EPs, live albums, solo recordings, or even his album comprised entirely of soused stage banter (wonderfully titled Relaxation of the Asshole).

Still, 22 albums don't even tell the full story of Pollard's output. Most of his efforts are packed to the brim with material - 15, 20 songs or more per super-stuffed record. His LPs are brimming with ideas, sometimes half-baked and frequently beautiful music that explores every wandering notion that breezes by. The miracle is that the quality has remained mostly high for all of these years.

There's more than a little bit of Pollard DNA in the output of Brock Ginther. A Portlander by way of Ohio and Boston, Ginther share's Pollard's desire for playful experimentation. On his most recent release, The Breakfast Cowboy, Ginther has populated the album with 22 songs that frequently come across as more than sketches. The concepts are left-field and verging on the surreal, and the melodies are as airtight as a minute-long song can be.

"I started writing songs without a guitar when I was eight years old, and I eventually learned how to play a few years later," says Ginther. "In fifth grade, I heard a Blink-182 live album, and the guitarist said, ‘This song's really hard to play, so shut the fuck up.' And I was like, ‘I know how to play this song.' It was this thing where I realized that these people don't know what they're doing, not really. It was pretty classic, this feeling of getting validated by punk music and knowing that there's more than one way of playing."

The Breakfast Cowboy covers a dizzying amount of ground over its 22 tracks. Though everything is couched in a similarly wry, lo-fi aesthetic, Ginther takes excursions through Moldy Peaches-esque, conversational singer-songwriter fare ("The Tallest Hamburger"); '60s Latin music appropriation ("Litter"); Ween-esque trips down weird rabbit holes ("Lizard Defender"); and stop-start grunge ("Exotic Cop Lingo").

"I just create an environment or a setting and fill it with the appropriate character," says Ginther. "There'll be a more honest song, here and there, but it's still the same concept, just playing around. I did a lot of improvisational street performing, in high school, with my friends. People would give me topics, and we would make up a song about them. I think that that improvisation has shaped a lot of my playing in my adult years. Sometimes it's more specific, like "Belly Actor" is supposed to be a Robyn Hitchcock imitation. Sometimes I'm just imitating specific singer-songwriters and writing in their style."

For those playing along at home, "Belly Actor" does certainly have a Robyn Hitchcock vibe, but, as is the case with these things, it can't help but be filtered through the interpreter's unique style. What you end up with is a song that started out in one area, but found its way to Ginther's voice along the way. Much of The Breakfast Cowboy has this feel, of Ginther fucking around with a tape recorder and seeing what sticks, and what sticks is almost never pastiche or imitation, but rather genuinely unique and compelling ideas and melodies that come from the man himself.

If you ever find yourself facing a Brock Ginther song that you don't like, you can take comfort in knowing that he's probably about 40 seconds away from turning on a dime into some other flight of fancy.

BROCK GINTHER, w/ Super Brown, 10 p.m., Wednesday, May 21, Le Voyeur, 404 E. Fourth Ave., Olympia, no cover, 360.943.5710