When you’re an artist without a weak moment to speak of, living up to your own standards can be a daunting challenge. Fans and critics expect you to raise the stakes with each offering, but consistently doing so can back you into a corner.
And thus the boys in Wilco have been in hot water for their entire career together. They began in the wake of Uncle Tupelo, the first band to bridge the gap between Hank Williams Sr. and Lou Reed. Uncle Tupelo were as true to the punk spirit as they were to winding Midwestern roads.
Wilco (a.k.a. the same band minus chief songwriter Jay Farrar and plus guitarist Jay Bennett) began their career with A.M., a more refined, calmer version of Uncle Tupelo that lay squarely in Farrar’s shadow. But with Being There (1996) and Summer Teeth (1999), Wilco began shedding their country leanings, and with it, Farrar’s unspoken influence.
Being There and Summer Teeth challenged Wilco toward a more expansive sound that recalled the Beatles and The Band more than Gram Parsons and the Byrds. Both records succeeded, particularly Summer Teeth, which birthed as much hype as it did new fans. The Chicago Tribune went so far as to name it one of the top 50 albums of the ’90s several months before it was even released. But Wilco delivered on the hype, and the album ranks with the best music of the decade.
In many ways, Wilco’s road to Summer Teeth recalled Pink Floyd’s path from The Piper at the Gates of Dawn to Meddle 30 short years ago. In Floyd’s case, they debuted with a psychedelic classic, created by a man (Syd Barrett) who then left the band because of schizophrenia. In regrouping, they morphed their sound into the space-rock conceptual workouts they’re now so famous for. They got better in the process of reinventing themselves. And as lyrically profound space-rock went, Meddle was almost perfect.
Similarly, Wilco made a debut CD in the style of a man (Farrar) with whom they no longer played. But through four years of experimentation, they reinvented themselves and transformed from pleasant and enjoyable to essential and cutting edge. Ambitious and never complacent, they are the Pink Floyd of their era and Summer Teeth, in its near perfection, is their Meddle.
But we all know that Meddle is perennially remembered as the album that set up Dark Side of the Moon. And this is a review of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, not Summer Teeth. Start drawing conclusions.
It’s true. The brilliance that trickled from Wilco’s first three albums pours through the floodgates on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Frontman Jeff Tweedy’s lyrical images on Summer Teeth’s “She’s A Jar” meet their match in “Ashes of American Flags.” The hooks and guitar work on Being There’s “Outta Mind (Outta Sight)” are trumped on “I’m the Man Who Loves You.” Even the enchanting “Jesus, etc.” rivals A.M.’s most rootsy moments.
But what makes Yankee Hotel Foxtrot specifically Dark Side-esque is not just the feeling that it culminates its makers’ careers up to this point. More importantly, it responds to its musical contemporaries and embraces the spirit of its era. Dark Side, recorded at Abbey Road, evoked the precision and clarity that the Beatles pioneered and Floyd leader Roger Waters perfected. It was a meticulous concept album in an era of great concept albums.
Conversely, Foxtrot embraces the looseness of Wilco’s musical contemporaries. It reflects an era where a great album can sprawl all over the map. A principle influence seems to be Pavement, particularly on the rambling “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” and on”Poor Places,” where the hook recalls the bridge of “Major Leagues.” The latter song, which may well be Wilco’s greatest to date, also references the Beatles. The outro guitar riff serves the song much like “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7/All good children go to heaven!” once did for “She Came in Through the Bathroom Window.”
Other tracks, such as “Heavy Metal Drummer” and “Pot Kettle Black” recall the loose electronic/symphonic warble of Flaming Lips, a band that Tweedy has openly named as an influence.
For months though, the music on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot has been buried beneath Wilco’s sideshow of lineup changes (only Tweedy and bassist John Stirratt remain from the original group) and record label fiascos. (Reprise Records dropped Wilco when the band refused to commercialize the production of Foxtrot.)
And yet hearing the actual music makes it all seem worthwhile. Tweedy’s ongoing quest for a singular musical vision strikes gold here. “I know I would die if I could come back new,” he sings on “Ashes of American Flags.” He’s done it on this album; it is light years from A.M.
The catch here is that label bureaucracy keeps Foxtrot out of stores until April 23. That leaves eight weeks of reviews like this one to raise expectations to almost impossible levels. But if you’re among those who think Dark Side of the Moon lived up to Meddle, believe the buzz about Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Wilco have delivered on hype before and they will do it again. nyou
