Wilco - Sky Blue Sky

Here are two truths universally known in my heart:

1. Wilco make marvelous records.

2. Jeff Tweedy is a genius in the truest sense of the word.

Having confessed my slavish and slightly unbalanced devotion to every note, word and frantic guitar chord proceeding from the mind of Tweedy, I will attempt to write an objective and unbiased review of the new Wilco record, Sky Blue Sky. Please don’t judge me too harshly; like biting my nails and eating leftovers for breakfast, Wilco-wonder is one of those addictions so gratifyingly pleasurable I don’t want to give it up just yet.

The arrival of a new Wilco record is a grand thing in my book. I remember exactly where I was the first time I heard Being There, Summerteeth, A Ghost Is Born and, most clearly, the awe-inspiringly glorious, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Oddly I was in exactly the same spot each time; floating somewhere in rapturous reverie about 15 feet off the surface of the Earth.

My first listen of Sky Blue Sky found me very definitely grounded, both feet soldered to terra firma with the tiniest little touch of disappointment itching away at my fanaticism. This was not the record I expected Wilco to put out this year. Side projects aside, there has been a very definite progression apparent in the first five Wilco records. Beginning with the alt-country twang of the barely post-Uncle Tupelo, A.M., the band have moved steadily and expertly towards the kind of mature, experimental yet incredibly listenable rock which characterized 2001’s universally lauded Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.

Listening to Wilco’s last studio album, A Ghost Is Born, alongside inaugural release, A.M. is almost like listening to two completely different bands. In some sense Wilco are not the Wilco they were 10 years ago. The line up has constantly evolved, so much so that Jeff Tweedy and bassist John Stirratt are the only two original members remaining. The sound has grown, distorted, refracted and come back together lately under the watchful eye of producer and collaborator, Jim O’Rourke of Sonic Youth fame. Nels Cline and Glenn Kotche have successfully rewritten the rule book for what you can do with guitar and drums, creating a uniquely, eclectic sound which has formed the backbone of later Wilco records.

However Wilco are still essentially the same band they’ve always been; pulled together by Tweedy’s masterful lyricality, instantly recognizable broken-boy harmonies and a solid foundation of no-hype musicians straining to push the sound just that little bit further. Tweedy’s special gift has always been his ability to walk with Wilco fans, falling into step beside them as he gently drives the music through to its logical conclusion. A Ghost Is Born with its 15-minute guitar frenzies took a huge gulp of resolve to swallow, but we die hards persisted and when the record finally fell into submission, it was a gorgeous thing. I suspect we were ready, perhaps even eager for Sky Blue Sky to drive us deep into the next level of the Wilco soundscape.

Therein lies my initial disappointment with Sky Blue Sky. There’s nothing new in this record. There’s nothing shocking or particularly experimental or progressive. Nothing rushes to grab you by the neck of sensibility like “I Am Trying To Break Your Heart.” After two whole listens, I had not yet left the ground. I was beginning to doubt the genius of Jeff Tweedy. However, 15 listens in, I wholeheartedly repent of my unbelief. Sky Blue Sky is a marvelous record; a truly gorgeous, accomplished and mature album, which refuses to thrust but slowly and assuredly worms its way under your skin until you find yourself echoing Tweedy on album-closer “On and On and On” when he sings, “You can’t deny even the gentlest tide.” I suspect that Sky Blue Sky is a plateau in the Wilco canon; a brief but satisfying pause before the next push forward. There’s a real sense of journey, displacement and progression alluded to in many of the songs here. Amongst other things, Tweedy sings, “I believe in locomotion,” and “this is what love is for/to be out of place/ gorgeous and alone/face to face,” giving the impression of a man who knows what it’s like to be born to run; physically, musically and emotionally.

Recently interviewed Tweedy appeared more at ease in his own skin than at any other stage during his career as Wilco front man. He confessed, “I’m not throwing up so much these days and I don’t have to get up every five minutes for a smoke. I can get into a deeper recording groove.” This sense of something resembling contentment is very apparent on Sky Blue Sky. Sweetly stringed opener, “Either Way,” contains the line, “Everything has its plan/either way,” and sets the precedent for an accepting shrug of an album which refuses to stomp, rage or allow Tweedy’s demons to scream quite as loudly as they have on the last two Wilco records.

Sky Bue Sky is no wet blanket of an album, either. This is a collection of extremely clever and masterfully written pop songs made to sound simpler than they actually are. The first three tracks are classic Wilco slowburners. “Either Way” is a perfectly inoffensive yet simultaneously haunting opener to an album which smolders with quiet introspection. “You Are My Face,” with its cryptic staccato couplets and dreamy melodies is an atypical example of Tweedy’s songmanship. A minute and a half in everything threatens to go all Ghost Is Born. The guitars come crunching in like a series of deftly administered sucker punches before swiftly resolving into the kind of jangly dream pop which characterized Summerteeth. Many of these songs would sit comfortably on either of the last two records.

The title track takes us way back to the early days of Wilco, at times threatening to trip into Being There favorite, “Far Far Away.” There’s a wistful yearning nature to Tweedy’s voice as he sings, “I survived/That’s good enough for now,” sounding for all the world like a man enjoying the rare opportunity to breathe deeply. “Walken” stomps playfully into territory with its old school country lyrics and deliberately flirtatious backdrop of dancing guitar and piano. “What Light” soars like a campfire sing-a-long, setting the tone for the entire record when Tweedy sings, “If you feel like singing a song/And you want other people to sing along/Just sing what you feel/Don’t let anyone say it’s wrong.”

Sky Blue Sky is clearly the record Jeff Tweedy wanted to make this year. It might not be what the critics expected. If truth be told, “Hate It Here” totters dangerously close to the edge of smooth lounge music before eventually toppling into crunchy Beatles-esque guitars. I almost caught myself cringing but Wilco themselves sound absolutely assured making this kind of music. The entire record refuses to toe the line on any particular Wilco style and instead follows the artistic whims of Tweedy with great enthusiasm and delightful results. Even the quieter introspective songs “Please Be Patient With Me” and “Leave Me (Like You Found Me)” are fragile enough to sound strong rather than self-indulgently, confessional. Album closer “On And On And On” is by far the strongest song on the record. Its gorgeous, piano-led melody climbs inside your head and just keeps climbing. Like early Wilco staple, “Misunderstood,” “On And On and On” is an incredibly simple, almost childish melody made dense and memorable by the sheer persistence of the music. “Only Shake It Off,” with its raspy, dueling guitars and seemingly endless repetition sounds like a fully-fledged drunken lurch into the future according to Wilco. Elsewhere Sky Blue Sky sounds like a greatest hits of all the evil genius concepts Jeff Tweedy has toyed with over the last decade or so.

Sky Blue Sky is a much simpler, cleaner record than A Ghost Is Born. I’d heard worrying rumors of a big rock record and anticipated something trendy and sprawling in the vein of Broken Social Scene. I am reassured to find that Wilco remain persistently unfashionable. Jeff Tweedy continues to hang his songs around terrifyingly beautiful pop melodies. Sometimes, as on A Ghost Is Born, he chooses to destroy that melody and pin it back together with a liberal coating of progressive, frantic distortion. Sometimes, as on Sky Blue Sky, he wisely chooses to keep things clean and simple. Either way it’s still characteristically Wilco. While this record will probably win them no new fans nor redefine their sound as Yankee Hotel Foxtrot once did, it will certainly help to reassure Wilco of their status as one of the most mature, significant and consistent rock groups on the face of the planet.