Wilco are back! What seems to sound like an ironic remark concerning the publishing policy of the Chicago six, who are constantly throwing out »exciting« new records, is actually a valid exclamation of happiness when it comes to The Whole Love. Whenever Wilco release a new album, they’re generally over-zealously showered with praise, which makes it easy for the band to step into the trap of arbitrariness. In addition, the latest Wilco-creations were »merely« good, however, the praise stayed the same, including a Grammy-nomination. And all that despite the fact that the best product by guitarist Jeff Tweedy and drummer Glenn Kotche was a project initiated by the multi-instrumentalist Jim O’Rourke by the name of Loose Fur. It was the breaks, even the unevenness, which made the seemingly common sketches of rock generate a certain kind of meaningful force. Jeff Tweedy’s undeniably great, yet not easily consumable lyrics only amplify this effect. It’s exactly this amount of unconventionality what Wilco were missing in these last years. There are people who claim that the years in the hands of a major label have taken away these moments of inner turmoil, of nagging guitars and beeping noises because these kind of things weren’t »radio-friendly« enough. The Whole Love, the first album released on their very own label dBpm, celebrates exactly those moments – one of them being the album’s amazing beginning. From the noise of a broken speaker cone, a nonchalant electronic beat arises, only to fall into a string-arrangement until Jeff Tweedy’s voice takes over: »No!/ I froze/ I can?t be so / Far away from my wasteland/ I never know when I might/ Ambulance / Hoist the horns with my own hands.«
After three and a half minutes, the electronic beat is replaced by Glenn Kotche’s drumming. Back to the old virtues, one could say, but then it’s already too late: Wilco have broken new ground and love to shout it out loud. On their 8th studio album, Wilco stress their contrasts like hardly ever before; they present a euphoric yet broad musical spectrum, while at the same time contradicting it all with doubts, thoughts of how life is making its rounds and how the human being is forced to keep up and how it feels to be dragged along by the seasons, by falling and rising tides, by togetherness, loneliness, and by the great and mighty sound. Much of this (in terms of attitude, and arrangements) reminds me of John Lennon around 1970, quite a lot of »Plastic Ono Band and still a bit of »Abbey Road«, having matured as an artist, bit by bit getting rid of the old with the new already in mind, concentrating only on the song. That’s exactly what Wilco achieve with this record. Everything is in its right balance, no cheap pathos, no moral finger-pointing, no frippery.Whilst being simple and clear, yet, at the same time, disbelieving and torn, Jeff Tweedy and his men are reflecting upon the world. I really find it hard to find an actual flaw in this record. In the end, the summary is given by the songwriter himself: »I found a fix for the fits/ Come listen to this/ It?s buried under the hiss/ It glows/ Like a powerful smile/ A car radio dial/ As intimate as a kiss/ Over a phone/ And it goes…«
Whole Love
