Wilco - The Whole Love

I was so impressed with Yankee Hotel Foxtrot that I bought my Dad a copy for Christmas that year.

He asked me “So what’s good that’s new music?” which is a question he asks regularly, to the point where I offer up something that I absolutely know he’ll like.

It wasn’t that way with Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.

I wasn’t entirely sure that he would like it.

And that’s what made the record so good: there were enough weird moments, off-putting sounds, and challenging topics to make the album something you needed to spend time with.

And time is a very precious commodity with my Dad.

I never heard a word about what he thought about the album, which means that it was probably too timid to devote any time with it.

Virtually every album since then would probably be more to his liking, while each one of those very same albums would become increasingly more pedestrian in my ears.

The Whole Love shows Wilco fans that a post-Bennett masterpiece is possible and goddamn if Tweety and company don’t get as close to a ball-hair to gain that very distinction.

And part of it is that The Whole Love sounds like a record that either compliments Tweety’s dominance or pressured for more of a partnership with him. The band sounds relaxed, playful and complimentary. Guitar interplay starts from nowhere, the rhythm section sounds more assured, and Tweety himself is in top form lyrically with phrases that shock, humor, and impress.

The difference between Y.H.F. and The Whole Love is how much the new album incorporates everything for the past decade proudly on its sleeve. It also doesn’t make a big deal of its weirdness. It’s learned to use the sounds and scratches more subtley.

The results are great. It’s an album you can settle into for years to come and one that puts Wilco back on track with an album that you’ll want to keep from your own father, choosing instead to hand it down to a son or daughter.

Jay Bennett R.I.P.

Jay Bennett certainly was not very flattering in I Am Going To Break Your Heart. The constant bitching, ill advised comments (“easy rockers” remains my favorite), and obvious attempts at asserting control of the band just didn’t present itself well in the documentary.
You get the impression that the person most surprised when he eventually got sacked from Wilco was Jay himself. The rest of the band and everyone watching the movie could see it coming and, at some points, welcomed the event when it eventually happened.
Yet lately, there are some Wilco fans that began to consider the band’s output sans Jay and making their feelings known that they would like him back in the fold. The argument? That everything since Yankee Hotel Foxtrot has not been up to that album’s lofty heights, therefore, his presence-as divisive as it was-is needed if the band every is to return to the brilliance they once had.
It’s an interesting thought and one that I have agreed with.
Don’t get me wrong, I liked A Ghost Is Born-particularly what it stood for-and I thought Sky Blue Sky was a smart, subtle record. As good as those albums were, they weren’t great like Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and Summer Teeth were. Those two releases challenged the listener, often not revealing their appeal until after repeated listens. And after two brilliant albums in a row, you began to miss those moments after two good albums in a row.
Yes, I would cite Jay as a big reason why those records came out so fantastic.
Recently, Jay sued Jeff Tweedy claiming unpaid royalties during his tenure, an event that surely would erase any possibility of a reunion just yet. In realistic terms, that lawsuit probably put the notion of a reconciliation years away.
Sadly, Jay Bennett passed away today, making any news of a reconciliation or reunion an impossibility. He was 45.
Bennett stated that he needed those royalty funds to assist with paying for hip replacement surgery. Evidently, he had been living in pain for several years and was looking forward to a life without it after the surgery was completed. I don't know if the surgery created complications that cut his life short.
His passing may have indeed presented him with an opportunity to be pain free-admittedly not in the manner that he was seeking-but for many fans, the pain is just now beginning as a result of this tragic news.

Wilco - Sky Blue Sky

Thanks to some unacceptable delays in whoever is running Wilco’s online store, I was forced to read the reviews of an album that I’d ordered weeks ago prior to actually being able to listen to it myself. Nothing says “Thanks, fans!” like letting the fucking big box outlets get your new shit before the people that actually support your endeavors.

So, from what I read, I was prepared for Sky Blue Sky to be Wilco’s homage to seventies rock, their most mature album to date, their most “straightforward” record to date and, my favorite, their “dad rock” album.
And while most listeners who’ve weaned themselves on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot or A Ghost Is Born will find Sky Blue Sky dull and unimaginative, and while most listeners who whined and wished that Wilco might someday return to their Americana roots will herald Sky Blue Sky as a return to form, both complaints and comparisons are too easy to attach to it.

At its core, and as it’s acknowledged in the making-of documentary that’s included with the deluxe edition (invest the extra few bucks and get it), Sky Blue Sky is the sound of a band getting together and creating music.
For some of us, that’s a pretty welcomed road, particularly when you consider how chaotic things are around us. Think of it this way: if you were in a band like Wilco, what’s the best way to escape the bullshit of life? The answer, of course, is to get together with the fellas and make music.

Hats off to new guitarist Nels Cline for providing such an understated and generous performance; he’s the band’s best guitarist and, thankfully, he doesn’t feel the need to show off about it. Instead, he brings the band towards more “jam band” territories, but just to the point where you’re starting to pick up on it.

Occasionally, he’ll throw in a little Tom Verlaine phrasing to make things sound a little out of the ordinary.
What makes the initial reaction to Sky Blue Sky so frustrating is how polarizing the band can be, even when they released their most straightforward and mellow album to date.

We saw some complaining after Yankee. We saw the complaints rise even more after Ghost. And now we’re seeing it after Sky Blue Sky. The fact is, there wouldn't have been any complaints if this album were released after Being There. But when it comes after their most complexing album (Ghost) then suddenly the floodgates are open because the band decides to take a break from experimentation and just play their instruments.

However, if they start cruising through the rest of middle age with albums like this, then perhaps we'll have a problem. But for now, the subtleties within the grooves of Sky Blue Sky are a welcomed rest stop and as challenging as if they'd upped the aural experimentations.

Because they've taken a step back from the studio trickery, Sky Blue Sky is a more consistent album than A Ghost Is Born and more fully realized too. Not only is it good enough to become the soundtrack for this summer's cookouts or moonlight drives, it's good enough for the band to retain their title as America's best rock band.

Open Letter To Wilco

Dear Wilco:
I guess that means “Jeff Tweedy,” now doesn’t it? I mean, nobody really writes to John Stirratt, do they? I’m sure he’s a great guy and all, but let’s face it: he’s the bass player. And if he were a real thorn in your side, well shit, he’d be playing dates with Jay Bennett now wouldn’t he?
Speaking of “thorns,” there’s one that happens to be in my own side. It has to do with pre-ordering Sky Blue Sky from your online store. I’m starting to have second thoughts, you know, caught up in the moment of your juicy marketing strategy.
You offered weekly prizes to those that did a pre-order; the earlier you ordered the more chances you had to win a nifty prize. So, I did that. I ordered early. I liked the notion of possibly winning Wilco’s entire catalog on vinyl. Some of the other prizes were pretty cool too. I wouldn’t be pissed at the idea of winning all of the Wilco side project releases either, but I will admit to not really giving a shit as to what Glenn Kotche is doing during Wilco’s off months.
So anyway, I was a little put off by the exuberant shipping charges on top of a full retail price disc. Or maybe it was the “expanded” edition that caused it to be priced that high. That’s ok, I suppose; I just dropped sixteen bucks on an import copy of Captain Beefheart’s Shiny Beast (Bat Chain Puller) plus shipping, so I suppose sixteen bucks (or whatever I paid) for Sky Blue Sky plus the “making of” DVD is a fairly decent price. It’s the cost of sticking with the dead format, I guess.
The thing is: I could’ve waited and spent twenty five bucks at Amazon and gotten Sky Blue Sky shipped to me free. I didn’t because your pre-order contest sounded pretty cool and, now that it’s becoming apparent that I’m not going to win any of the pre-order contests, I kinda wish I had waited.
Plus, there’s the fear that Sky Blue Sky is gonna suck and turn into one of those peaceful easy feelin’ kind of seventies yacht rock albums. Understand that I’m too much of a fan to just illegally download it to find out. Nope, I want to get it on the release day just like I did Synchronicity or Use Your Illusion.
I’m old school like that.
Did I mention that I saw you guys (meaning Uncle Tupelo) before you released No Depression? It’s true! I don’t know if that gives me better odds for the contest, but, I thought you should know that I’m by no means a Johnny-come-lately when it comes to your work.
So if I can’t win a contest and if I can’t get free shipping, can you just make sure that Sky Blue Sky doesn’t suck? I know it’s probably too late and all, but if you could just assure me that, no, you’re not turning into The Eagles, or worse yet, Poco, then I’d be cool with this apparent side street towards “easy rockers.”
And I know how you feel about “easy rockers.”
When the album gets here, I’ll let you know what I think about it.

Take Care,
Todd Totale

P.S.: Users are losers.

Wilco - Live Review

Wilco
The Val Air Ballroom, Des Moines, Iowa
3/22/2006

Touring to support no album can be a great thing for fans; a band has no obligations to anyone except themselves and the people that pay money to see/hear them. Combine this with the last show of a tour and you can expect even better things; a band may throw everything at the crowd because, what the fuck, it’s the last show.
Wilco has their road crew pick out the set list for the final show of every tour, and if there’s any consistency among roadies, hopes were high that they’d come up with a rocking set. They did. The set at the Val-Air Ballroom was littered with loads of stuff from “Being There,” “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot,” “A Ghost Is Born” a new one and a nice surprise (more on that later).
The Val Air Ballroom was a venue that I’d never been to before, but the retro vibe makes me want to check out a few more shows there again. Check out what greeted us as we approached:

How fucking bad ass is that? It’s a ballroom in every sense of the word and I’m sure a few rugs were cut on the hardwood floor during its heyday.
Opening with a stellar “Handshake Drugs,” Tweedy and Co. looked as haggard as ever, sporting the obligatory boycott of the new Gillette razor and a few new faces in the lineup that I didn’t notice when I saw them last (the tour before “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” was released).
Whereas that show truly seemed like a band effort, this Wilco seemed like Tweedy’s baby; he’s filled the band with very capable musicians who can appropriate his vision without challenging it. So far, it’s working. “A Ghost Is Born” probably wouldn’t have been made with Jay Bennett, and truth be told, I don’t think I’d like a show filled with Bennett’s request for “easy rockers.”

Jay’s exit has led to guitarist Nels Cline’s arrival. This guy can flat out play, whether its tearing up the Jazzmaster ala Robert Quine or settling back with a lap steel, Cline’s only downfall was making a few accidental noises during a soft take on “The Lonely 1,” a song that typically only features Tweedy with an acoustic. The glitch prompted a smile from Jeff and a few lighthearted laughs from the understanding crowd.
Speaking of: the audience was unlike any I had seen before. It was a mixture of general admission drunks, middle-aged hipsters, and even a few grey-haired boomers who didn’t seem too thrilled with some of the evening’s feedback laden landscapes.
The one song that everyone seemed to agree on was the final selection, a note-perfect rendition of Blue Oyster Cult’s “Don’t Fear The Reaper.” Featuring the drum tech on cowbell, the band channeled the facsimile with precision and with the carefree attitude of a group on the last show of a tour and with nothing to really promote.

Setlist:

Handshake Drugs
I Am Trying to Break Your Heart
Forget the Flowers
Hummingbird
At Least That's What You Said
On And On And On (the new one)
Shot in the Arm
Poor Places
The Lonely 1
Spiders (Kidsmoke)
Jesus, Etc.
Theologians
I'm the man who loves you
Walken
I'm a Wheel
Encore #1:
Misunderstood
Far, Far Away
Magazine Called Sunset
Kingpin
The Late Greats
Encore #2:
Red Eyed & Blue
I Got You
Hoodoo Voodoo
Don't Fear The Reaper