Wilco - Sky Blue Sky

Genre rock Publisher Nonesuch Records External Links Official Wilco Website Official Nonesuch Records Website

A folk lullabye for the disaffected, Sky Blue Sky immediately stands as some of Wilco's most honest and musically beautiful work in a long and varied career. There are those that will look at the sixth album from the Chicago-based Uncle Tupelo offshoot and haughtily declare that Jeff Tweedy and his band have finally stopped experimenting ("... Thank God!" some dimwits might add) and have regressed to their original sound. They'll say that this is pretty much where Wilco started, in A.M. territory, and that after coming back, this is the sound they'll stay at for the foreseeable future. Okay, so first off, HOGWASH! Beneath all the Beta Band rolling, electronic mantras on A Ghost is Born and Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (Fuck, did that album need an easy abbreviation...), and in between the Pop Rock Zip of Summerteeth, you uncovered simple, touching, modern country aesthetics, then as now. Music for folks that love life out of The Big City, but cringe at cowboy hats worn inside of 2-door Nissans, urinating Calvin stickers, and all that Travis Tritt bullshit. So, anyone who thinks that Wilco is through stylistically ramblin', and have given up, resigned to their "true form" obviously haven't been listening very carefully. What, you think Wilco's taking the easy way out, reverting, and plateauing in Mellowsville? This band has never been about stability, no matter how gently their music has rolled us to slumber.

The reason Wilco is dynamic and fantastic is 100 percent based on the tumultuous emotional state of frontman Jeff Tweedy. The guy's battled depression, painkiller addiction, panic attacks...I mean, he's a perfect voice for a generation that struggles in dealing with daily fear and confusion. His songwriting genius really cannot (must not) be understated. The guy weaves together seemingly effortless guitar melodies and consistently produces some of the most poignant, tortured lyrics found anywhere. And, despite some really amazing guitar work on Sky Blue Sky by Nels Cline, this album is still Tweedy's mouthpiece and, more than anything, it seems as if he uses it to take a long, shaky, reassuring breath.

The opening song, "Either Way," demonstrates a peaceful summing-up of a period of chaos and helplessness. Tweedy does a great job of rolling his feelings of uncertainty towards his depression and their effects on his relationships into a sound of acceptance that's one-part Zen, one-part Country Confidence.

"Maybe the sun will shine today/The clouds will blow away/Maybe I won't feel so afraid/I will try to understand/Either way."

Breaking from the music-box guitar melody Tweedy employs, Nels Cline streaks into the first of his many inspired solos. I'll admit it has a distinct 70s folkie cheese to it, like something you'd hear in a faded, old sunflower-wallpapered elevator heading to your dentist, or a soundtrack to a late night positive thinking infomercial. But Cline's talent not only gives it validity, but also a tremendous sound. He continues this through the unsteady, foreign sound of "Impossible Germany" where Asian sounding guitar notes are marbled throughout. Somehow, these sounds transition into the most classic of rock, and Cline gives some of his best work on the album. Fantastic storytelling through the climbs and falls. He adds even more of the 70s sound to this album, sounding like some of the choicest Allman Brothers riffs. With back-up-singer guitars at his back, Cline throws some superior passion into hitting the high notes, and water falling down. I'm shocked it's taken so long to get him on a Wilco album. He's played with them for years and it's clear from Sky Blue Sky, that he's added a fresh spark into the group's overall sound.

"Some side with the leaves/but I'll side with the seeds." While struggling with seemingly unsolvable relationship issues, Tweedy barks out his shaky vocals in higher pitched yelps, displaying all that vulnerability in slightly halting pauses. The only thing that seems to top Cline's shredding is Tweedy's pained vocal range. He gets stronger from album to album, giving real honesty to his words. How can you not believe him when he croaks out "When the mysteries we believe in/Aren't dreamed enough to be true?" All this restrained emotion is TOTALLY offset by the maelstrom of Cline solo windy-ass hurricanes. Is all this mania indicating the forces of nature pulling a loving pair apart? An emotional overload? A potential answer is given on "Please Be Patient" (without a doubt, the absolute sweetest song on this album). "Patient" couldn't paint a more touching picture of Tweeds, calmly and sadly telling his loved one that he can't keep his unpredictable social missteps in check. How he couldn't stand to hurt her and that he needs her care. Even as Tweedy sings the line "I'm gonna need you to be patient with me" you can see the timbre of the music change from an foreboding uneasy off-tone to a reassuring bell. "It doesn't mean that I don't care/It means I'm partially there." It's just a sad plea for understanding from someone who, at times, can't even understand himself. An absolutely perfect Wilco song.

One of my favorite songs on this album puts Tweedy in the singing boots of another 70s great, Paul McCartney. This song fits seamlessly with the material on Ram with its light-hearted bounce step, silly strolling piano tune, and interjecting and contrasting electric guitar jolts of determined action. In fact, Cline jumps in with a singing guitar that mimics McCartney's vocal scat on "Heart of the Country," an absolute gem from Paul's 1971 classic. Tweedy even does a damn fine Bob Dylan impression on "What Light." He plays a strumming acoustic and stretches out his "feels" and "sees" to the great folk singer's proportions; crooning just like the old fuck. He plays guidance counselor, reassuring each of us to sing, paint, express themselves in any way we choose, to be sure to completely disregard the naysayers that want to suffocate us. He even sheds a little light on why Wilco chooses to allow so much of their music to be heard on their website free of charge. Once music is made, it belongs to the world, declares Tweedy. "Just remember/what was yours/is everyone's from now on/And that's not wrong or right/But you can struggle with it all you like/You'll only get uptight."

The combination of Tweedy and Cline has pushed this album to great heights in emotion and skill. I'm really hoping they stick together for a couple more. But, long ago, I learned a lesson that many music sorts should jot down. Wilco is a static production, just like our minds are static organs. They're unpredictable. But, when given even the most basic of stimuli, they're each guaranteed to produce stunning phenomena, both gorgeous and amazing.