Unlike a fellow longtime indie/alternative rock-like outfit like Spoon, whose stylistic evolution album to album are mostly subtle in nature... Wilco wander all over the place, yet maintain a bedrock of relative decent quality even at their worst. There isn't a truly terrible Wilco album, and they've sure made a whole bunch of them. Most of those merely decent records will pass you by via their relative 'decent-ness' and leave little impression otherwise. As for their peaks... some of the best alternative rock put to tape in the past quarter century.
Rising from the ashes of punk/alt-country darlings Uncle Tupelo, the formation of Wilco was Tupelo co-lead singer Jeff Tweedy quickly bringing back most of the Tupelo gang (without co-lead songwriter Jay Farrar who countered by forming Son Volt) to record their debut record A.M. in early 1995. For the next few records the band slowly drifted from those country roots and into more experimental concepts, led by Tweedy as the band's ringleader and for a time multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennett. This wasn't a smooth transition at all: aside from bassist John Stirratt and Tweedy himself the entire lineup of the group would completely turn over by their fifth release.
Since 2004 however, with the addition of the simply marvelous Nels Cline on guitar... the lineup has remained completely stable as the band has settled (for the most part) into agreeable light indie rock, with an occasional characteristic dark twist from Tweedy here and there. From alt-country, to art rock, into comfortable "dad rock" and then all of those things again in whatever sequence... it's been far from a typical progression but Wilco is far from a typical band. As their latest release proved, not many longtime groups (nearly thirty years now) manage to keep the curveballs as sharp.
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Around 2004 is about the time I started getting into Wilco, which is really the tail end of their second (the most experimental) era. Jeff Tweedy at the time had a reputation of being an impossible to work with "mad genius" (which seems so bizarre now in retrospect, as he has clearly chilled out over the years and settled into a sort of quite thoughtful and amicable rock and roll teddy bear) and one suspects his opioid addiction at the time because of constant migraines probably played a part in making him unpleasant to deal with.
With a heavy bag of distinctive, memorable songs... Tweedy is truly a unique songwriter and lyricist. His style ranges from pure gibberish, disturbing tales of dumping dead bodies, a poppy ode to music bands from the past, insular feelings of intense loneliness ("just smile all the time") or just a rollicking romp involving everybody's least favourite day. He's all over the place, but rarely does it feel like he's stretching what he can actually pull off. It's a big reason why Wilco at their very worst are just kind of un-interesting: you know Jeff Tweedy is capable of writing something so much more compelling... with the band's considerable versatility and imagination capable of making endlessly memorable tunes.
Anyhow, lets get into this! Lots of diversity in this catalogue, and a lot of albums with bizarre names as well. When you have a record called Wilco: The Album, which features opening track 'Wilco: The Song'... well you're really winking at the camera at this point, aren't you.
Wilco have released thirteen full length studio albums of their own, at a fairly consistent rate throughout their near-three decade existence. However, when we get into the Wilco Expanded Universe(TM)... things start to get tricky regarding what is and isn't a "Wilco" album. You've got their collaboration with the Minus 5 (also featuring Peter Buck of R.E.M.)... the pair of Loose Fur records with Tweedy, current Wilco drummer Glenn Kotche and Sonic Youth collaborator Jim O'Rourke... The Autumn Defense with Wilco rhythm guitarist Pat Sansone and John Stirratt (also featuring Tweedy at points) and then the Mermaid Avenue project the early version of Wilco did with Billy Bragg (which are credited as "Billy Bragg and Wilco").
There are also two Wilco EPs: More Like The Moon was a companion bonus disc to Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in Australia (the band would officially release it in 2003) while Hot Sun Cool Shroud was legitimately released (to positive reviews) while I was still working on this piece. Hot Sun is extremely good, while Moon is comprised mostly of alternative YHF takes with a couple of moody originals.
For the interest of both conciseness and avoiding confusion, I'm only going to include the two Mermaid Avenue records among those (and yes I know there's technically a third one but it's part of a compilation so... sue me). They are full length albums accredited to the actual band (instead of various members being a part of something else) and the project itself is a good one to discuss anyhow.
Well, lets be an American aquarium drinker and assassin down the avenue, shall we.
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#15. Schmilco (2016)
The 2010s were a minor creative lull for the band. With the first half of the decade showing an uncharacteristic four year gap between records... the latter portion found Wilco productively making up for lost time but mostly with very meager results. While none of these albums are particularly unlistenable by any measure, most of these are rather stylistically faint and forgettable with Schmilco the most faint and forgettable of the bunch. Aside from the jump start pace of "Cry All Day" and sweetness of "If I Ever Was A Child" there's no lasting impression or hook that settles in. Just a very slight album in songcraft and sound.
Cool cover, though.
#14. Ode To Joy (2019)
As mentioned I've seen Wilco live twice (both times at Budweiser Stage here in Toronto) and the Ode To Joy tour was the first go (and only time I wasn't getting paid for the experience). Was depressed, heartbroken and debating whether to go... and bought a ticket with barely an hour to spare and rode my bike as fast as I could.
My overall recollection of seeing them at this time was mostly how these new songs I didn't know were the weakest aspect of the show, whereas they seriously rocked the punchier older stuff.
The general moroseness of Ode hints how those then new songs really lacked the energy of Wilco's older material, because man this is one sombre record. Not a whole lot of pace, electric guitar, or casual feeling be found in these parts: even the faster numbers like "Quiet Amplifier" carry an intense, subdued introspective quality to them. Imagine Tom Petty's Wildflowers without the punchier, poppier tunes, or the general warmth throughout that fine album. All the feelings on Ode To Joy are very muted and distant, which can work within Tweedy's style of songwriting but here the songs just don't stand out. The band sounds in fine form, as they often do... the songs just don't land any punches.
#13. Cruel Country (2022)
My second occasion seeing Wilco live (unfortunately only for a small chunk of the performance during my break) the new songs had much more spirit to them, even if the band sounded a bit too loose and off their typically excellent game.
Cruel Country, as a double album, will immediately draw natural comparisons to Wilco's other double feature, the sprawling second release Being There... both because of the length and how Cruel Country is a big deliberate callback to the band's alt-country roots rock, a shift notable especially after the light indie folk of Ode and Schmilco.
Unfortunately, Country is the significantly inferior album to their sophomore release because it lacks the sheer compelling variety of memorable songs that Being There is so richly filled with. There are a few standouts ("A Lifetime To Find" has some catchy, quirky twang) but most of Cruel Country treads a samey musical path without really giving anything unique or interesting. It's a very safe record that lacks any kind of edge to it.
As a single album this would probably work much better, but at 21 songs(!) long with so many blurring together this becomes a numbing listen front to back... with much of its twangy country rock dulling the senses eventually. Tweedy, who is consistently a fascinating lyricist, doesn't seem to have many interesting ideas on these songs... falling into lazy rhymes with uninteresting results.
Overall... an inoffensive but repetitive effort (and just too many damn songs) from a band that has done much better.
#12. Mermaid Avenue Vol. 2 (2000)
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A collection of outakes from the Mermaid Avenue sessions that didn't make the cut for Volume 1, and this is definitely the inferior collection. "Remember The Mountain Bed" is a truly wonderful, beautiful song on here, but I'll talk more about the Mermaid Avenue project when we get to Vol. 1 further down the list.
"Airline To Heaven" is also a terrific song. Here's somebody you probably recognize introducing them performing it:
#11. A.M (1995)
Very much an alt-country album of it's mid 1990s era and a perfectly respectable debut record. Imagine Uncle Tupelo without the whiskey drenched soul or harder punk-like leanings. Tweedy sounds a little uncertain here in his first serious run as a full time vocalist, at times unsure when to go for it or hold back, and as such there's an uneven singing tone among these songs. The band sounds fine (basically the ghost of Tupelo sans Jay Farrar) but they were soon about to branch out and record far more interesting things. One suspects the more considerable success of Son Volt's first record in comparison to Wilco's very modest performance might've lit a spark under these guys.
As its own thing, A.M has its moments of simple and enjoyable light country rock and the record really finds itself in the second half... but it's simply okay in regards to the rest of Wilco's quite sizable and diverse catalogue.
#10. Star Wars (2015)
After a four year unofficial hiatus, Wilco decided to release an album named after a famous Science Fiction franchise also making a grand return that same year. I think a very underrated aspect of these guys is their sense of humour, even if Tweedy claims the title is a coincidence (sure it is, Jeff).
Star Wars is a very loose, straightforward attempt at catchy, guitar driven tempered rock. It doesn't completely work: the second half of the record loses quite a bit of steam, but there are some great melodies in here and unlike most of their later 2010s stuff the band really sounds like they're having a lot of fun rocking out.
There's plenty of loose liveliness to it, and even if not all the songs work the tight energy and pace (at 33 minutes it is the shortest LP in the Wilco catalogue) makes this record a much punchier listen than the three that followed. I always prefer when the band doesn't keep the electric guitars at home. "Random Name Generator" especially is a damn fun, catchy crunchy guitar song while "You Satellite" is a atmospheric spacey noisy jam that sneakily builds (but doesn't overstay its welcome either).
#9. Wilco (The Album) - 2009
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Again, underrated sense of humour. Having a self-titled album later in your career isn't out of the ordinary (the Beatles have a few words on that, hell the Velvets did it twice), but Wilco decides to go full Bad Company* and lead off this same album with a song also named after themselves. It isn't really a great song but points for sheer goofiness, fellas.
Wilco The Album is fairly uneven in style, which throws it off as an overall listen, but there are some real damn winners in here. Tweedy's sweet duet with Feist on "You And I" is delightful (their vocal ranges are so different which somehow makes it work), the nightmarish panic attack tale of "Bull Black Nova" (essentially a man freaking out while driving with a murdered body of a lover in the trunk), the delicately lovely "Solitaire" or the heart-wrenching closer "Everlasting Love"... the songwriting really hits in several moments.
But there are some forgettable tracks as well and the general tone of the album doesn't coalesce very neatly. Like a jumble of songs without any theme or logical connection. An entirely solid, good Wilco (the) album... but we're starting to approach the excellence and this one stumbles a bit short of that horizon.
*technically 'Bad Company' by Bad Company doesn't lead off their album (also called "Bad Company") it's in the middle... but my joke still stands damn it.
#8. Cousin (2023)
After the bleak Ode To Joy and too simple country rock infusions of Cruel Country, Wilco veered back into their more experimental art-rock leanings with (at the time of this article) their most recent release... enlisting an outside producer in Cate Le Bon to shake up the dynamics.
The result? Certainly the most interesting record they've produced in over a decade. While they don't go completely off the rails, this album does roll along like the band isn't playing it safe: the weird sonic textures and atypical melodies of their late 90s/early 2000s material is hinted throughout, and immediately so with the fabulous opener "Infinite Surprise". The melodic noisiness is back, baby!
Cousin is far from a perfect album, or a grand return to form even. The weird turns don't always quite land on their feet and it does lack that one true killer memorable track ("Levee" comes close). It does flow together nicely, however, fully going for a late 1960s pop meets spooky introspective art-folk meets quirky indie rock. The sombre "Pittsburgh" finds Tweedy embracing his inner Neil Young while giving another classic Wilco opening lyric with 'Oh I love the rain/and how the rain can turn/shit into a rose'.
The more upbeat moments on the record help to balance out the bleak ones (such as the helpless "Ten Dead"), and as such it plays like the most dynamic Wilco record in a while. Like if the quiet folk of Ode To Joy mixed up with the energy and full sonic sound of Star Wars, all with an undercurrent of quirky sweetness both those records lack... and with more interesting and catchier songs. Genuinely great to hear this band sounding so fresh again in both melody and songcraft.
#7. Mermaid Avenue (1998)
Technically not a proper Wilco album, but also technically yes? It does feature the full band of Wilco as constructed at that time (Tweedy, Ken Coomer on drums, bassist John Stirratt and multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennett).
Regardless, it's a fascinating work. Teaming up with British musician Billy Bragg, Wilco (with express permission and supervision of Woody's daughter Nora) cover a bunch of unreleased Woody Guthrie songs/poems. Bob Dylan in his novel 'Chronicles' claims to have potentially almost been given these very same writings from Guthrie in the early 1960s, but supposedly Guthrie's wife wasn't home to let him inside to grab the box full of lyrics.
While Bob would surely have done a fine job, me thinks... Wilco and Bragg themselves do these works a fine amount of justice. Although this is a Wilco article, the Bragg-sung tunes (it's about 50/50) feel like the ones that best embody the spirit of these songs... his heartfelt deeper voice suiting the rural vagabond folkish hero material significantly more than Tweedy's poppier inclinations.
Still, both singers have standout moments... the wearily bittersweet Tweedy and Jay Bennett led "California Stars" is just exceptional, Bragg's soulful rendition of "Way Over Yonder In The Minor Key" (with Natalie Merchant) is riveting, there are plenty of more comedic moments like the bar-room"Christ For President" or "Ingrid Bergman", and the closer is the stunning "The Unwelcome Guest" (Guthrie's tale of an American frontier Robin Hood) that pulls off the trick of evoking both lamentation and hope. A remarkable project filled with wonderful moments both world weary and goofy, a fitting tribute to Woody indeed.
(Sansone's little banjo solo there after Tweedy and Stirratt mess up the lyrics is worth the watch alone)
#6. The Whole Love (2011)
Possibly the best combination of opening and closing tracks in the Wilco catalogue, and they could not be more different. "Art of Almost" is a glitching, experimental rock fever dream... while "One Sunday Morning" somehow remains saddening and captivating for 12 minutes despite its melodic and repetitive simplicity. The latter is truly one of my very favourite Wilco songs. I can't explain it, the song just freezes me in a moment... that simple little piano lick and the way Tweedy softly sings it. Tears every time.
As for everything inbetween... Whole Love is a bit too all over the place. The 1930s-esque jig of "Capitol City" worked better when it was Paul McCartney singing "Honey Pie"... on this extremely eerie record it sticks out like a violin on a Ramones song.
Still, this is mostly a crazily impressive collection of songs... "Red Lung Rising", the flowery title track, the catchy pop of "Dawned on Me", the gentle night-time build of "Black Moon"... the record hits far more often than it misses, despite the flow of it being jagged (again, "Capitol City" might be the weirdest thing they ever recorded for an LP, and we're talking about freaking Wilco here).
Definitely a very good Wilco record and a very accessible one: beyond the morose extended closer and feverish opener this is the later version of the band in typical pop-rock mode, helped by a very strong batch of songs.
#5. Being There (1996)
Very few double albums can boast consistency or an expertly smooth flow amongst such a sprawl of songs. I love Physical Graffiti (it rules) which is arguably one of the finest double albums ever made... and even the second half of that exceptional record carries a couple of serious duds ("Night Flight"? Ugh. Bad Rod Stewart called he wants his 'bad' back...)
That said, are all nineteen songs of Being There great? Not really. It really starts to wane in the final quarter... and a lot of that impression is because the album starts off like a cannon. The chaotic "Misunderstood" (with the band not playing their usual instruments) gives you an immediate idea what you're in for.
Are some of Wilco's best songs on here? You betcha. "Outta Mind Outta Sight", "Hotel Arizona", "Sunken Treasure", "Misunderstood"... holy goddamn. "Monday", "Forget The Flowers", "Say You Miss Me"... "I Got You"... way more victories on here than losses.
There's definitely more of that early Wilco alt-country twang on here than... well than on nearly any other album the band has made since. They always have some of it somewhere, but here it is center stage. Lots of slide guitar, some lap or pedal steel, all servicing plenty of songs dealing with lonely heartbreak (legitimately a song called "The Lonely 1" on here). That all works fine, what makes this album so damn good is that, unlike the debut, they're playing a bit more comfortable, Tweedy sings with the confidence to carry a record, and now they're realizing they can explore everything they can do.
Before recording the band brought in Jay Bennett as another guitar player into the fold, with Bennett's ability to play keyboards (no one else in the band could) giving the group another musical dimension to explore. The result in the songs is staggering: alternating between bar-room rockers, softer ballads, noisy psychedelic freakouts and pure power-pop without breaking a sweat. This might be the most energetic the band has ever sounded. And for a double album, it all fits together with an impressive natural tightness. All of these tunes feel like they were born and grew up together in the same little house. Fantastic and clean production: all the instruments just pop and blend.
As said, it's a double album... so there are some bloated moments, songs that are two minutes too long, that drag the record down on a front-to-back listen. Regardless, there are just so many classic Wilco tunes on here that they still play live even three decades later... Being There is undeniable within their catalogue. A wild romp holding hands with genuine heartfelt moments... not their most complex songwriting but there's an endearing earnestness and innocence to it.
#4. A Ghost Is Born (2004)
A strong contender for the silver medal of this list, full stop... if it simply weren't for Tweedy's 15 minute long instrumental exploration/interpretation of his migraines on "Less Than You Think". Capturing what that experience felt like, while an interesting sonic experiment... it doesn't need to occupy nearly a quarter of this otherwise excellent album's runtime. It's Wilco's "Metal Machine Music" and is arguably harder to listen to.
Tweedy was battling prescription drug addiction at the time (he'd go into rehab shortly after Ghost was released, delaying the tour) and so having a song that beyond a minimal folk intro is nothing more than a whining guitar tone... I get what he was trying to say but I certainly don't ever want to listen to it. This is (for similar reasons) why I can only take the first four minutes of "Sister Ray" before getting irritated.
The rest of Ghost is just so freaking good though, and has aged extremely well. It somehow seems to sound better every additional time I listen to it, like there's yet another song I didn't fully appreciate, and I've listened to it a lot. Opening with "At Least That's What You Said" jolts you awake with it's intense frantic guitar workout after Tweedy's quiet piano intro (and is even better live when Cline is rocking the guitar on lead).
It's very much a band in transition. Jay Bennett and original drummer Ken Coomer were gone, leaving Tweedy himself as the lead guitarist and producer Jim O'Rourke encouraged him to improve his guitar playing. Keyboardist Mikael Jorgenson came onboard (he'd been a part of the Minus 5 project which Wilco produced) and guitarists Pat Sansone and the incomparable Nels Cline would join for the tour... but in the meanwhile most of Ghost is original bassist John Stirrat, Glenn Kotche on drums, multi-instrumentalist Leroy Bach (who'd appeared on previous records) and new fella Jorgensen dealing with a pain-killer addicted Tweedy who apparently while recording could only physically stand for a few minutes at a time because of opioid withdrawal.
Shockingly, even the gentler pop songs carry a sad undercurrent... like the sweet "Hummingbird" and "Theologians", or the stomping fun "I'm A Wheel", or the sneaky little hidden closer "Late Greats"... or the quiet-loud "Muzzle of Bees" (the 'Kicking Television' live version is just sublime electric guitar work). There's an understated softness to this album in tandem with a lot of harsh lyrical or songwriting elements, giving the record a bizarre dichotomy wherein the music is often pleasant and joyful, yet the songs are intense and occasionally terrifying. I love the straightforwardness tale of "Handshake Drugs" (and yes it's also wicked live) but it's pretty obvious the carefree fun melody intentionally masks the darkness of what Tweedy is singing about (it's his "Waiting For My Man").
It's a wonderful rock record that bares its bones confidently yet uncomfortably. Really the last record Tweedy ever sounds tortured: on later records he dives into darker places no doubt but here it really does play like a man looking over the edge, like he himself is living what he is singing. That's why this is kind of a scary record, there's something very wrong behind the lighter moments. Twenty years later it plays like a diary of somebody who was able to overcome serious issues, and this is the lowest chapter between the lines.
On a happier note, this is the perfect segueway to again mention Kicking Television. Wilco's singular live album, released shortly after this record, is simply one of the best live rock albums of the previous two decades. Guitarist Nels Cline joined the band for the post-album tour and the dude can just goddamn play, his unpredictable jazzy influence, precisely technical licks giving the cuts they play from Ghost another level to them.
#3. Sky Blue Sky (2007)
Full of it's own uniquely bleak Tweedy moments ("Leave Me Like You Found Me" for instance), yet Sky Blue Sky brings an odd sunniness to the proceedings. The album runs a little too long and I always forget what actually closes the record, but this thing flows between happy, sad, and sheer sublime musical playing that the length or the frequent shifts into sad loneliness never disrupt the overall lightness. The band (the first album with the still current lineup) is seriously tight and on their game.
It's a strangely brilliant work, despite not being as immediately memorable as previous entries on this list. Sky Blue Sky follows a lot of the A Ghost Is Born blueprint: intense minimal introspective songs paired with lots of electric guitar freakouts. The biggest differences are one: this album is far less pop/catchy song-focused than Ghost, leaning more into jazz-rock at times (I recall thinking on first listen it was like Wilco made a Steely Dan record) and two: the addition of Nels Cline improves those electric guitar freakouts by several measures. His playing on "Side With The Seeds", or "Impossible Germany" (you can argue that is Wilco's best song and I won't put up a strong fight) is simply ridiculous. I'll agree that the second era of Wilco's biggest shortcoming is you don't get enough of this dude's guitar. Cline is so damn good, and Sky Blue Sky is probably the most you hear him on a Wilco record.
Tweedy still sings like a man alone in a room unsure how to quietly escape, but there's more of a faint hopefulness to his words this time around rather than the inevitable accepted doom of Ghost. There is a bright, almost sweetness to this record... after two albums within a musical and personal chaos this record plays like you've survived a storm and are now on calmer peaceful waters, not in great condition but still alive enough and assessing where you're at.
There's an odd magic to this album, it plays fantastically front to back, and has some tremendous songs. I haven't even mentioned "Shake It Off" yet (Wilco did it first and way way better than Taylor). A phenomenal record, one the band has since yet to approach.
#2. summerteeth (1999)
Continuing upon the rootsy breakthrough of Being There, Wilco's third record is where they really begin to push out into very different musical territories. You still get some faint hints of the country twang the previous record bathed in, most notably on "ELT"... but beyond that this album is a varied stylistic powerhouse. The first clue that this was more than just some cute alt-country band from Illinois... and without coincidence the first clue of Tweedy's darker lyricism. The just incredible "Via Chicago" opens with 'Dreamed about killing you again last night/and it felt alright to me'. Not a line Tweedy's wife was fond of (gee wonder why) but summerteeth in these very dark moments works because it isn't a wish or call for such unforgivable violence... it's an internal question why these thoughts exist in the first place. The fact the album cannot answer its own questions is kind of the point.
Much of the record was recorded just by Tweedy and multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennett, leaving out (or in some cases re-doing) parts that bassist John Stirratt and then-drummer Ken Coomer had recorded. "There wasn't really a band, just two guys losing their minds in the studio" as Coomer would later remark.
"Losing your mind" seems an apt description of this album, as part of what makes summerteeth so impressive is how casually it wildly jumps between sound and tone between songs... yet somehow none of it ever becomes inaccessible or weird for weirdness sake (the end of "Via Chicago" comes close, with it's noisy chaos certainly a preview of the next record).
There is a very natural flow to it all, such as the bright pop of "Nothing'severgonnastandinmyway" leading into the quirky wandering medley of "Pieholden Suite" (complete with a horn filled ending). Moments of summerteeth are almost Beatle-esque: whether it be that same infusion of light classical instruments, the dreamy "My Darling" with it's odd backwards-sounding organs and bizarre percussion (like something off of Revolver), or the closer "Candy Floss" which is like Strawberry Fields on prozac. Even the sweet piano tune "When You Wake Up Feeling Old" reminds one of McCartney's schmaltzier Sgt. Pepper output.
Beyond musically, the lyrical jump in Tweedy's songwriting is also very noticeable... some of his most memorable lyrics are on here ("buried you alive in a fireworks display, raining down on me") and many provide an element of shocking darkness like "you know she begs me not to hit her" which hits the listener closing the otherwise beautifully lush "She's A Jar".
This is the album Tweedy really starts baring his emotional uncertainties, even on the more upbeat tunes there's an unease within his voice and his words. This was deliberate: the record took a long time to make and combined with touring and the Mermaid Avenue project, he wasn't thrilled being away so long from his wife and young family... and in an effort to become a better lyricist he was reading a lot of Henry Miller and William Gass, while also starting to write down lyrics that came to him rather than just "writing tons of stuff in my head and then just forgetting" to paraphrase.
The result is an indie-rock masterpiece, full stop. One of the most impressive albums of the era and there isn't a single song I don't like. It used to be the opener "Can't Stand It" (which was re-mixed in a desperate attempt by the label to have something resembling a radio-friendly single)... I still find the chorus melodically hokey with the strings and twang, but it has grown on me somewhat.
The rest of the record is simply incredible, with each song it's own little unforgettable tale within some larger interpersonal epic. I was very very close to placing this atop the list, no joke. Looking back on everything Wilco has recorded since, this might be the record that best represents what they're all about. It has the right amount of everything, and this is what they've shown themselves to be for the most part. A damn good syllabus I'd say.
#1. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (2002)
Hoo boy. Where to start. There's a lot you can say about this record.
Yankee Hotel was actually completed in 2001 but Reprise Records refused to release it (really). After a lot of deliberation (and wanting to avoid bad publicity) the label gave the band the rights to the album without charge (shocking I know) and so Wilco self-released it online until they officially switched over to Nonesuch for a wider-scale retail distribution (their next few releases were on Nonesuch until Wilco founded their own label dBpm in the early 2010s).
The sessions for YHF were, uh... tumultuous. Tweedy had performed a few shows with noted producer and Sonic Youth collaborator Jim O'Rourke, and through O'Rourke was introduced to drummer Glenn Kotche. When Ken Coomer, who had been Wilco's drummer on the first three releases, was considered "too inflexible" for these new songs, the band replaced him with Kotche (who is still on the sticks with them to this day). O'Rourke was also brought in to help with mixing, which conflicted with multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennett who had been such a key contributor to the sound of summerteeth. Once the recordings were done, Bennett was likewise dismissed from the band and was rather contentious about his credited contributions on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot for the remainder of his life (he tragically passed away in 2009).
This particular era of Wilco is a miracle when you think about it. You've got band members in flux and arguing about creative direction, a record company that won't release your record, and your lead songwriter/singer suffering constant migraines to fuel a prescription pill addiction. How this whole thing avoided completely sinking into the sea is unbelievable... and thank goodness it didn't because holy mercy. To my ears this is still one of the greatest records released in the past 25 years, Top Three even.
It has aged without cracks or wrinkles. The bizarre time signatures, the simple guitar dissonance, the hollow haunting echoes, the emotional moments where everything is falling apart and then somehow the egg is put back together again. Where summerteeth was a ride through a variety of styles and pop experiments, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot alternates and explores deeply between two gears of faster paced pop-rock and bleak soundscapes, with Tweedy's soul searching words underlying either one. The two gears bleed together in such a way that anything dividing them is blurred by the unstoppable momentum of the album.
The pacing of the record perfectly keeps you off balance, even after several listens when you know what to expect. Flowing from the fever-breaking "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart" into the adorable self-doubt pop (it is Tweedy after all) of "Kamera", into the hollowed out haunting acoustic confessional of "Radio Cure", into another light tune musically with sneakily dark lyrics ("you have to learn how to die, if you wanna be alive") in "War on War" and it goes on. We're not even halfway through this yet, where "Ashes of American Flags" plays out like an scene in the aftermath of a bomb going off and you're standing in the rubble in a cloud of dust.
I wouldn't say Yankee is the album I'd recommend to somebody interested in getting into Wilco, at least depending on their taste. It's their best album, yeah... but not the most accessible. It's experimental rock or art-rock or however you want to define it, filled with odd melodic turns, long moments of distorted unmusical sound, and it's definitely not a happy listen beyond the second half trio of "Heavy Metal Drummer" to "I'm The Man Who Loves You" to "Pot Kettle Black", the middle track really being the one song on the record somewhat out of place among the rest.
There's such a depth to these songs, little touches and musical flourishes hidden in the background in both the ambient moments and the more straightforward pop song ones. The harmony of this work between such opposite themes is astounding: intimate warmth holding distant coldness so tightly, the external/internal duality of "Radio Cure" for instance when Tweedy sings "Cheer up, honey I hope you can/There is something, wrong with me", or just "Reservations" as an entire song.
It's an intense realness to Yankee Hotel Foxtrot that I think makes it such a lasting and brilliant musical work. Such like life, the carefree moments can have lingering doubts, the darkest ones the tiniest beam of hopeful light. Bleak but not defeated, joyous but not naive. Conceptually, musically and sonically this is a work of genius and one of the greatest albums recorded in the modern era.
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In researching this piece I've heard multiple ideas that Wilco are the "American Radiohead". I don't agree with this: Radiohead are far more consistent in their discography and their changes in sound are far wilder and pronounced. That said... Wilco is pretty damn good and while most of their output in the last 12ish years has been underwhelming (unlike Radiohead who have barely released anything) as a band they remain an impressive live force. There's a reason I put live videos underneath their top albums within this ranking.
They're a band I've seen live twice, both at the same venue although the second time I was on the clock and so couldn't give them my full attention beyond a twenty minute break I used to sneak over and watch the show. Both concerts were good but especially the first one: while arguably under-utilized in the studio for Wilco, Nels Cline is just an incredible guitar player and they really unleash him for the live show. You haven't heard "Impossible Germany" until you see Cline work it out on stage in person... chills, man. A very tight live band and set-list wise they do like to jump around the catalogue, even if the darker material from their earlier era is played with considerably less dourness.
I'd also be remiss not to mention that Jeff Tweedy has written a few books (most of them recently) about the creative process of writing songs and particular music that changed his perspective. I haven't read them (yet) but I'd sure like to know how the hell he came up with "take off your bandaid 'cause I don't believe in touchdowns". That's an all-timer in the 'what are you talking about?' department.
All of this considered... Wilco is an awesome band continuing to do awesome things. Truly unique, interesting and inventive.
