Sky Blue Sky by Wilco

There are a lot of things Wilco, and, by extension, frontman Jeff Tweedy, can be accused of; conforming to expectations is most certainly not one of them. That's why it comes as a surprise that Sky Blue Sky has been met with such contempt from some corners of the music press.
When alt. country was burgeoning, mainly because of Tweedy's early work with Uncle Tupelo, Being There came as a big, eclectic bolt from the Rock 'n' Roll blue.

Then, some smoothly produced pop in Summerteeth, which morphed into the white-noise/pop masterpiece, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. When A Ghost is Born came along, you'd think people had cottoned on to the fact that while Wilco records are never quite what you'd expect, there's always a natural progression from one to another. So, while Sky Blue Sky, on the surface appears to be a quantum leap back in time for Wilco, a band that has unquestionably fought against its Daddy-rock leanings for over a decade, closer inspection reveals much more in common with its predecessors, and many tracks carry a clear connection to the less experimental moments on Ghost.

An important point to note is that the creative and artistic success of Sky Blue Sky should not be judged exclusively on its progressiveness (or lack thereof), as the band's experimental nature was not something they ever expressed an interest in maintaining in the long term. Unfortunately, that is most likely exactly what it will be judged on, and that is a shame. Because even though this may be Wilco's most clean, crisp and uncomplicated recording to date, it is also possibly the one that takes the longest to make its mark.

Irrespective of the intent of the band (or its fans), this is a collection of twelve really beautiful, well crafted songs. And that is what Wilco have always done better than anyone. In fact, the record opens with one the band's most beautiful recordings to date, in 'Either Way', a delightful 70s mid-tempo number which is a world apart from the angst-ridden fuzz of previous recordings, almost certainly a statement of intent from Tweedy regarding his emergence from the haze of painkiller addiction, as no doubt is the absolutely spotless production. And when newly recruited guitarist Nels Cline's solo kicks in midway, you just have to sit back and let it all wash over you, sappy strings and all, because it's a great song.

Cline's free jazz background comes screaming to the fore when the band let him loose on tracks like 'Impossible Germany', and when Wilco decide to rock out, they do so with gusto (at least, as much gusto as 6 well-to-do gents pushing 40 can muster), as on 'Please be Patient With Me' and 'Hate it Here'.
Not many bands in the world could flirt with Eagles-esque MOR rock and not come off looking impossibly twee and camp. It is testament to the songwriting chops of Tweedy et al. that Sky Blue Sky comes off as a beautiful, and surprisingly memorable excursion into middle-aged contentment. Wake up on a clear Sunday morning, put this CD on, close your eyes and enjoy it for what it is. Don't expect anything but quality.

4 stars

All time top ten - #3 - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot

You must have heard the story by now. In early 2001, Wilco offered their new record, 'Yankee Hotel Foxtrot', to execs at Reprise Records (a subsidiary of Warner Music), ready for release. The suits didn't hear cash registers ringing, and turned it down, telling the band they wanted more country and less alt. country. Wilco refused to change a thing and wound up buying out the contract and posting the music on their website. And then everything exploded. 5 star reviews came out of the woodwork, tens of thousands took up the music and the then-burgeoning blogsphere ran riot. Reprise wanted back in, but Wilco signed to Nonesuch records (ironically enough another Warner subsidiary)for twice as much as they bought their old contract out for, making the Reprise suits appear biblically short-sighted.
Against a backdrop such as this, it's easy to see why people can get caught up in the rapturous claims of brilliance that now surround this record. Fortunately enough, the record itself is just that.
It's apparent from the opening, psychadelic drone of 'I am Trying to Break Your Heart', complete with bursts of of-kilter drumming, snatches of guitar and alarm clocks, that this is no ordinary pop record. When the pop is there, it's nothing short of quintessential, 'Heavy Metal Drummer', 'Kamera' 'I Am the Man Who Loves You' and 'War on War' equal parts nostalgia and futurism, many times closing by devolving into chaotic hum and buzz, and in the case of the amazing 'Poor Places', morphing into the dischordant, disembodied voice of a Mossad spy recording droning the titular 'Yankee....Hotel...Foxtrot...' again and again.
But it is the record's quieter, more reflective moments that truly give it it's classic status. In 'Jesus, etc.' the album finds ts heartbeat, a poignant, lovely and utterly desperate plea for simpler and happier times. 'Radio Cure' and 'Ashes of American Flags' in the hands of lesser beings would rapidly have been viewed as filler; here, they're raw emotion, singer Jeff Tweedy intoning 'All my lies are only wishes/I know I would die if I could come back new....I would like to salute/The ashes of American flags/and all the falling leaves/Filling up shopping bags'. And it's Tweedy's lyrics that are the unsung (pun utterly intended) champions of YHF. If it's playing the noun-as-verb game on 'I Am Trying to Break Your Heart', croaking 'I am an American aquarium drinker/I assassin down the avenue'. Such jive-talking lyricism is certainly not out of place on YHF. But it is the yearning, pain, regret and, ultimately, hope that set this record apart; 'Distance has a way/of making love/understandable' from 'Radio Cure' speaks this in dolby surround.
The album closer, 'Reservations' contains the line 'I've got reservations about so many things, but not about you'. This encapsulates the longing, love, pain and drink that YHF is soaked in, and what makes it one of the truly great records.