Sunday, 14 June 2009

• Currently Wilco (The Album) By Wilco see related

  Live review of Wilco (the Album)

  There are two kinds of fans: the kind who adore everything the band does unconditionally, and the kind who hate it because it doesn’t live up to the “classic” material. I skew toward the latter when I first hear a new record by a band and grow gradually toward the former. To whit, below.

   

  “Wilco the Song”

  Hey, self-reference works for the Hold Steady, and they still matter. Maybe Wilco can do the same. I kinda like the slanted self-help vibe here. Life is shit, but hey, Wilco loves you and always will. I hope the lyrics on the rest of the record move away from clichéd rhymes and banal expressions, however. Love only counts for so much in rock and roll. Lots of shitty bands love me. Doesn’t guarantee it’s requited.

   

  “Deeper Down”

  OK, boxing metaphor. It traffics a bit in the sonic experimentalism that defined Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. I think we’re using lap steel, too, which is welcome. Great atmospheric song. Haunting and moody and marked by a wonderfully slanted beauty.

   

  “One Wing”

  Another gentle intro. Maybe in their forties Wilco isn’t into rocking anymore? OK, great Tweedyism: “You were a blessing and I was a curse.” There’s that old Midwestern self-hater I grew to love. “I fear we can only wait to die.” YES. He’s off the anti-depressants. Although the controlling metaphor of this song (one wing can’t fly—who knew?) is a little tired. Nels Cline’s guitar textures are magnificent towards the end here. But I sure hope the next one’s a rock song. Like a “boot in the ass” rock song.

   

  “Bull Black Nova”

  It ain’t. But I’m still open-minded. God, the synths in this track are annoying. And they’re getting worse. Couldn’t we have mixed these back a little? I feel like aliens are waterboarding me. OK, it’s getting better. Good, paranoid vibe to this song. And only Nels Cline could jam off of a staccato synth line. Nice work, that. OK, wait, what the fuck is this at the end? This is really unpleasant. This song is interesting, but I have trouble imagining that I’ll ever want to listen to it enough to parse it out. And it’s long, too. Apparently, we’re redoing “Spiders.” Oddly enough: it’s growing on me. The unpleasantness of it is kind of hypnotic, like dental surgery on nitrous oxide. And it’s beginning to rock. Jeff is howling. OK, I kinda like it now. Good: nothing on Sky Blue Sky was interesting enough to be polarizing.

   

  “You and I”

  Another down-temper number. Pleasant enough. Very seventies easy-listening vibe. Think “Seasons in the Sun” with better-quality cheese. It’s a duet (with Feist) called “You and I.” Nuff said?

   

  “You Never Know”

  Oh hell yes. Piano driven rocker. Jeff sounds pissed and annoyed. “I don’t care anymore” he says. Twice. This is the Wilco that I got drunk listening to in seminary.

   

  “Country Disappeared”

  Oh God he’s singing falsetto. It’s harshly lovely and the sentiments seem to have a stark, existential quality. I like despite the falsetto.

   

  “Solitaire”

  I’m harboring the secret paranoia that Nels Cline is brainwashing Jeff Tweedy into believing that Sonic Textures are the wave of the future. Nobody writes hooks anymore, dude.

   

  “I’ll Fight”

  I fucking love this. Driving and depressing, full of existential futility. The organ and lap steel backing is sublime.

   

  “Sonny Feeling”

  Great, subtle, sassy chord progression in the intro. Love the vocals—classic slanted Tweedy comedy.

   

  “Everlasting Everything”

  Feels ultimate, so at least form and content are mirrors. Closes the record out beautifully. Nels Cline is a wizard with sonic textures. (Psst: Jeff, don’t let him take over, though.)

   

  Verdict: I’ll preorder the damn thing. There’s enough here that might grow on me. I never love a good record on a first listen. I couldn’t even get through Sky Blue Sky. This is much better.

   

   And frankly I have a very unhealthy relationship with Wilco. I hated Sky Blue Sky because Jeff and Co seemed happy and well-adjusted on it. It bored me. I look to Wilco to resonate with all of my dysfunctions. I want the Jeff Tweedy who blames other people for his flaws and blames himself for everything else that goes wrong. I thrive on his anxiety and unease.

   

  Here’s what I’ve discovered: Wilco is for me a form a personal tourism. I listen to their classic albums to relive the existential hand-wringing that defined my mid-twenties, when their music was the centerpiece of my aesthetic universe. But these albums no longer resonate very deeply with me anymore, and the current, shalom-y Wilco sound doesn’t connect at all.

   

  What does connect now? The Hold Steady. More on that to come.

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