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Wilco - Wilco (The Album)
| Guardian |
| Chicago's veteran alt-rockers haven't sounded this much fun in ages, their seventh album balancing their easy-going and experimental sides....full text |
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| Spin |
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As far as rock'n'roll is concerned, status quo is for suckers. New boss same as the old boss? fuck 'em both. Accordingly, in their own insular way, Wilco have spent their 15-year existence struggling against stasis. Whether it's alt-country, '70s-influenced chamber pop, Woody Guthrie covers, or Radiohead-refracted Americana, frontman Jeff Tweedy has felt compelled to dress his innate tunefulness in all manner of disguise. The band lived according to shark logic: Keep moving or die. Until now. If 2007's Sky Blue Sky was an amiable, if mildly flaccid, return to rootsy songwriting fundamentals after the migraines-and-motorik meandering of 2004's A Ghost Is Born, then Wilco (the album), the band's seventh studio effort, treats verse-chorus-verse basics like holy truths. The result is the rare rock album about acceptance. And it's fantastic....full text |
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| Boston |
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Wilco Wilco (The Album) Nonesuch ESSENTIAL “Deeper Down’’ Wilco plays at LeLacheur Park in Lowell on July 11. Sometimes “important’’ bands just want to make good rock records. Which isn’t to say that the adventurous spirit that elevated Chicago rockers Wilco from alt-country upstarts to vanguard indie experimentalists isn’t rattling around the group’s seventh album. That specter has simply taken on a mellower form on “Wilco (the album).’’ Jeff Tweedy (above) and his merry band of musical omnivores dial back the squirrelly avant left turns in favor of ambling guitar rock (“Wilco (the song)’’), hushed laments (“Country Disappeared’’), and Beatles-flavored pop psychedelia (“Deeper Down’’). In other words, there’s a little bit of everything that they’ve done well in the past on early albums like “A.M.’’ and “Summerteeth.’’ There are plenty of pleasing musical quirks that follow in the footsteps of their more recent catalog, too. Consider how the guitars grow from insistent needling to wild and wired on “Bull Black Nova,’’ mirroring the menacing lyrics about encroachment and evoking the skewed sensibility of Split Enz. Or there’s the way Tweedy’s pinched-yet-emotive rasp drily scrapes up against the increasingly frantic soundscapes of “One Wing.’’ And if only because the band hasn’t been known for its soulful stylings, it’s a pleasant surprise to hear “You Never Know’’ shamble along to a Sly Stone groove....full text |
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