Quiet Color

by kevin diamond

Here’s the short version: Wilco (the album) is better than Sky Blue Sky, but not as good as Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The end.

It’s easy to imagine that the proceeding sentence will be true for the remainder of Wilco’s career. Unless you’re one of those eternal-Wilco-haters (and there are plenty of them), those two albums seem to have become the comparison points for the rest of Wilco’s career, for better or for worse. The near universal praise for YHF, coupled with the near-universal disappointment presented by Sky Blue Sky, makes it so. And yet I can’t help but feel guilty everytime I compare an artist’s newest work to that “one perfect album” they created in their hey day. It’s the same struggle I had when Sky Blue Sky was released.

Artist: Wilco Song: You and I

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I wasn’t necessarily a Sky Blue Sky hater, but I was of the opinion that it was an inconsistent album from a band that had previously been a beacon of consistency; It’s relatively minuscule weaknesses therefore shining greater in stark contrast to their previous efforts. Perhaps the greatest disappointment Sky Blue Sky held was the fodder it provided for those who claimed Wilco were a “Dad-rock” band. What a disdainful phrase, and an unfair one.

The first half of Wilco (The Album) works hard to erase that title. From the tongue-in-cheek opener “Wilco (the Song)” to the most muscular song on the album, “Bull Black Nova,” Wilco seem to be saying – We Get It. Even as “Bull Black Nova” transitions into the Feist duet “You and I,” a perhaps overly cutesy song, the production, performance, the feel of the studio is radiating a warmth that compensates for any weakness inherent in the songwriting. The following song, “You Never Know” is classic Being There-style Wilco alt-country presented flawlessly.

And then I’m not sure what happens, exactly. “Country Disappeared” has a derailing effect that’s almost inexplicable. It’s not a poorly written song; in fact, like most of the album, it’s put together with precision and taste. Perhaps it’s a tracking issue, because the succession of songs that follow, “Solitaire,” “I’ll Fight,” “Sonny Feeling,” seem to drag on and on, and blend into each other until suddenly the album has stopped, and you realize you’ve barely paid attention to the last 20 minutes or music.

With the unfortunate passing of Jay Bennet last month, it’s interesting to think about the Wilco catalog in terms of it’s oft-changing roster. Sky Blue Sky and Wilco (The Album) are the first two Wilco albums to be created with the same line up. Every previous record was a product of a group of musicians that were working extra hard, perhaps because they had something to prove, perhaps because they were just figuring out how to work with each other, but that extra emphasis seemed to enhance everyone’s performance. Listening to Sky Blue Sky and Wilco (the Album) it’s hard not to hear a group of talented, proven musicians relaxing, taking it easy, doing what they do well with grace but no real struggle. And perhaps it’s that lack of struggle that makes these albums seem “boring.” Compared to an album like Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, a work of art born from conflict, it shines that much brighter in contrast.

How unfair am I being? At what point do we have to blame ourselves, the “Fans,” for the unrealistic expectations we hold our favorite artists up to? And how much do we owe it to them to hold them accountable, keep their feet to the flame? It’s a question I often struggle with. I will say this, though. Even the worst Wilco album is still a pretty wonderful thing. Check it out for yourself, and listen with an open mind.