Wilco – The Whole Love [dBpm; 2011]
Indie Rock/Folk/Alternative Country
How refreshing it is to see a band come off of an extremely underwhelming stint of retrogressive “rootsyness” and indulge once again in its more experimental tendencies.
How refreshing it was to be left absolutely drooling in awe at the nuanced album opener “Art of Almost,” an epic that somehow circumvents an entire universe of imagination by blending motorik electronics, a jarring string orchestra, faux-tropical bass lines and a tumultuous Neil Young guitar solo – hold the Ritalin.
Don’t confuse The Whole Love as a “return to form” for indie band Wilco. It’s more of a “refinement of form,” in which listeners are invited to travel the band’s 17-year trajectory in 56 minutes.
The gravity of sensibility keeps the band from spinning out into the Yankee Hotel Foxtrot cosmos, and an air of lightheartedness prevents the band from undressing and castrating themselves on “A Ghost is Born.”
While I’m digging up the past, I might as well mention this is also the band’s most fun album since “Summerteeth,” which is a testament to Jeff Tweedy’s growth as a songwriter. Soundscaping has always provided the most sensual canvas for Tweedy’s finely stitched pop-craft, and it’s on “The Whole Love” where Tweedy rediscovers his penchant for the experimental and poppy isn’t mutually exclusive.
The more I listen to it, the more “The Whole Love” reminds me of “Abbey Road;” nearly ambiguous rock and pop that playfully experiments and yet runs like a consistent and finely orchestrated mood piece.
From atmospheric folk ballads such as “Sunloathe” and “Black Moon,” to the jerky power pop and urgent indie rock of “Dawned on Me” and “I Might,” The
Whole Love stands as one of Wilco’s most adventurous, yet close-to-home records. The Randy Newman-esque “Capitol City” and go-nowhere chug of
“Standing O” aside, there is hardly a wasted moment on this album. Slacker ease allows Wilco to referee the ebb and flow of the album as it transitions from budding storm clouds to inevitable daybreak.
Years of finely-turned musicianship has allowed the band to breezily move the album from brooding drama, to contemplative thought and raucous white-knuckled rocking. The only criticism I can draw is I’m not as enthralled by Tweedy’s lyrics as I was back when he was drawing literary influence from equal parts classic literature and Dadaist surrealism.
Themes of yearning, wanderlust and a nostalgia-faded Americana story telling constitute passable – and occasionally wonderful – strands of prose, though it’s nothing you haven’t heard. Still, all points of contention are erased on the 12-minute album closer, a song that doesn’t devote a single moment to anything else besides beauty on an album that could nearly claim the same.
Final Grade: A-
Recommended Tracks: “Art of Almost,” “I Might,” “Dawned on Me,” “Black Moon.”
