Wilco (The Article)

As I am beginning to write this, I currently hate the band Wilco. Later on I may change my mind. But now, I can comfortably say that I never quite liked the ubiquitous, much-revered indie alt-country band, despite the many times I have tried. Here's a partial list of how come:
1. I find them boring. In much the same way I order a soft vanilla cone when I don't know what I really want at an ice cream stand, I would only ever want to listen to Wilco's lazy, meandering indie rock if there were no other bands who could play something that instantly gets me tapping my toes, humming along, then lifts me up in the air into the seventh circle of musical listening pleasure and makes me wish I were in a band myself, if only I were better at the guitar and had friends who also wanted such a thing. Let's say, for example, Ween. The only problem is, I've got plenty of good music, be it Ween or anyone else, readily available. So Wilco never really grew on me. What's the big deal? This is:
2. Their critical reputation. I subscribed to Rolling Stone for a while, since I was about a sophomore in high school until maybe three years ago or so, and every time Jeff Tweedy ever so much as walked into a studio and sighed pensively into a microphone while wisping his fwoopy dyed-black hair around I would hear nothing but the highest praises for them, the kind of journalistic idol-worship RS usually reserved for such acts as Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen or U2 (Dylan I could understand, but Bruce was pretty aggravating to slog though as well. Whatever my beef with Wilco is, at least they never capitalized on the September 11th attacks. And U2 is a whole other story). Their album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was touted as the best album of the year by this magazine, not at the end of the year, but when the album was released. It was so good that no other album released within the year could possibly top it. I heard this album a few years later, and it more or less sounded like any of their other albums to me, hardly worth the platitudes I had been exposed to.
3. “Wilco (The Song).” Seriously, who names a song after themselves? Oh man, get ready for the killer chorus... “Wilco.” What do you do when you go to a Wilco show and you want to hear that song? “Hey Wilco, play Wilco! I mean, uh, Wilco, the song, you know, from that album Wilco the album!” You have to be a lot more concise than that when you yell stuff out at a show.
To sum up, I think they're a bland indie-rock band with critical accolades that I don't think they deserve. In much the same way that I judge the Dave Matthews Band a great deal by the kinds of fans they have (although I also grew up with the radio constantly overplaying their hit songs, which is a significant reason why I hate them. But that's another story), you could, if you had an interest in a pale, mousy, smart-looking young woman with black hair and horn-rimmed glasses, approach said young woman and tell her you like Wilco. Not only will she almost definitely also like Wilco, this common interest alone will suffice enough for her to at least give you the time of day no matter how repugnant you may be otherwise. What's more, if you can play “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” for her on an acoustic guitar, she will probably have sex with you. You don't believe me? Go and see Funny People. Not only is it a solid Apatow flick, but the very same thing happens to Seth Rogen's character (well, not quite the guitar-playing thing, which consequently makes it tougher for him to eventually bed her). And his character is a fat douchey stand-up comedian. That's right, unattractive, unfunny by the nature and limitations of his chosen profession, and he gets much Wilco pussy.
So I've spent much of my current years of popular music-appreciating not appreciating this band, and making fun of many of my friends who do. One of my friends is such a fan of Wilco. He challenged me to listen to Sky Blue Sky, and I listened to about three songs in my car before giving up. I told him the next day that Wilco should be classified as a driving hazard, since the album almost put me to sleep at the wheel. You see, stuff like that. To be fair, though, I never really gave them a thorough listen (I could also say that I also never really thoroughly listened to Ween the first time either, and it would be true, because I instantly loved them when I first heard them and I never stopped. But that's another story).
Which brings me to this article. I also tried to get this friend of mine into Ween and he ended up dismissing them in much the same way that I did for Wilco. How absurd, I thought at first, how could anyone not appreciate the hilarious, genre-bending virtuoso stylings of the brothers Gener and Deaner? It boggles the very mind, it does. I told him that if he gave them a fair listen, I am absolutely sure he would change his mind. Then I got to thinking. Had I been wrong about Wilco? Have I been merely knee-jerk dismissing a truly fantastic band? All those millions of skinny, pale, mousy, trendy fans can't all be wrong, can they? Well, let's find out. My friend and I have agreed to engage in a battle of the “W” bands, if you will. Each of us will fill up one audio CD worth of songs of our choosing from each of our favorite bands. Each of us have to listen to the other person's compilation thoroughly, from start to finish, and we have to record what we honestly think of them. While the Ween write-up is coming, here's what I think of what is the best of Wilco, in the order that he arranged them:

Obama Intro: This is a little sound bite of Barack Obama, who I am assuming was still a senator at the time, introducing the band at a show at his (and the band's) hometown, Chicago. “They've got gold records, they've won Grammys,” says Obama. I'm not sure if either the fact that Obama likes Wilco or that they've won Grammys is supposed to impress me, or both. All I can say is, you know who else has won Grammys? Milli Vanilli.

Kicking Television: This is an eponymous track from a live album in Chicago, I'm assuming from the same show that Obama announced in the previous track. Not bad, actually. It's rockin' so far. Some raucous guitar-driven stuff that reminds me of the better Modest Mouse... Okay, the bit where Tweedy snarls “I'm serious” made me snicker a little bit. And the very unconvincing yell immediately following it, the kind that makes you cringe even when Paul McCartney does it on “Hey Jude.” And “Hey Jude” is a great song. And, of course, Paul McCartney is a fucking Beatle, so he can do whatever he wants. Anyway. Still rockin, but not sure what I think about the atonal piano in the background. What the hell? Did he just say “I'm working on my abs?” Hm. It looks like there's not going to be much more lyrical depth to this thing after the first chorus. Sorry man, but the words are pretty dumb here. While I can hardly say that I never listen to anything except the most exquisitely written lyrics, I can say that good stupid songs are good because they're fun to listen to. No matter your opinion of the band, I don't think anyone can deny that Wilco is sorely lacking in a sense of humor. Which isn't a problem in itself, but it's disastrous when a band such as them try to do a song like this. It sounds like he had pretty cool music written down, but couldn't come up with any words to put it to, so he scribbled down a few things that vaguely pertain to the vacuousness of consumer life. I think? “I'm kicking/ masturbation” he says later in the song. While I can't vouch for his habits with literal auto-eroticism, it looks like there's plenty of musical wanking in full effect here. Which is a shame, because if there were some real lyrics and a solid melody, this could be an awesome song.

I'm the Man Who Loves You: This is a perfectly safe, competent song, which is a complement and a criticism all at once. It's got okay words, a nice little melody, an okay chorus, but it doesn't really build, and it's not particularly catchy. I wouldn't mind hearing this song while walking into an Old Navy, which the song sounds as though I have before. But this is hardly worth the constant platitudes I keep hearing about them, especially since this is a track coming off of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. You know, that revolutionary album of the year. As for specifics, I do dig the trumpet parts at the end, but whoever the lead guitarist is in the band is pretty aggravating in this song, especially in the beginning. Congratulations, sir, you know how to bend one note through some fuzzy distortion. Try bending some other ones now.

Let's Not Get Carried Away: The first words here are “I've got a million things that I'd rather do/ Than to play rock and roll for you.” I'm going to go ahead and not bother with the obvious anti-Wilco jokes I could come up with at this line. Aside from that, this is the first song I could kind of get into. A slow, bluesy rock song, with fuzzy guitar and some honky-tonk organs in the background. I'm not quite sold yet, but not bad. Let's hear some other good ones...
Wait. Nevermind. Drum solo. Automatic lame. But the rest of the song was quite good.

I'm a Wheel: This song, as well as the previous, to an extent, are the first good songs from the list which indicate to me a sense of adventurousness that distinguishes them from other bands and gives the very least amount of merit to their journalistic reputation. In other words, this is a good rock song with some other cool stuff happening in it. The power chords that start the beginning of the song get me right into it, and there are little flourishes throughout that keep it from being a boring rock song. Still, not quite as catchy as I would like. Not the best thing I've heard, but good enough for me to not resent having to listen to the rest of this list. If this song were on an album with a bunch of truly stellar songs, it would grow on me eventually.

Side With the Seeds: A Wilco song that doesn't plateau? Stop the presses. I was a bit wary of the soul-ballad beginning of this song, but as soon as they started jamming it became okay. Not irritatingly jammy like Dave Matthews or Phish, but more like My Morning Jacket (which anyone who likes Wilco should check out, by the way). Again, if this were on an album full of other awesome songs, I would eventually learn to like this one a lot. For now, it's not bad.

Theologians: I keep throwing the word catchy around, but this is the closest song I've heard that I could even remotely classify as such, with a hummable melody and what have you. Again, not bad, but the lyrics here are pretty stupid as well. Want to hear some of Jeff Tweedy's scathing criticisms of organized religion? “Theologians, they don't know nothing/ about my soul.” And check out this poetic gem: “I'm an ocean/ this emotion/ slow motion.” Hm... what rhymes with ocean?

Shake it Off: I like this little melody they've got going on here, but Tweedy's voice sounds like he can't keep up. And the song itself had better change up pretty soon, an entire song of this is going to be pretty dull... Oh good. Here it is. As much as I derided Sky Blue Sky, I've been enjoying the selections from that album more than I have from any of the others. They must not have been part of the first three I listened to in my car that one time.

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart: I recognize this as one as the few songs I remember when I first tried to get into Wilco, and I remember being fairly unimpressed at the time. This song was off that album, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, but this is a live version. As I can recall, the only difference between this version and the studio recording is that there's a lot more slow keyboard droning and messing around in the beginning. To its credit, this version picks up the pace a bit more as it goes on, but it's still a fairly uninteresting folksy ballad. Oh, and there's my friend doing that unnecessary atonal piano thing. Thank you sir. Now look what you've done, the song's about to end and you've got everyone wanking around. I'll tell you what, when I want to hear screeching feedback I'll put on Metal Machine Music.

Via Chicago: I've noticed that anytime these guys slow down, it's never quite as interesting as their faster, rocking stuff. I think this song is what I meant when I called them boring and anemic.
Oh wait, that's what this song needed, more noise and noodling. What a bunch of assholes.

You Are My Face: A gentle beginning, with some nice harmonization. Not boringly slow like the last two songs, but good. And it goes somewhere later on. Another solid song from Sky Blue Sky.

Feed of Man: Ah yes, this is off the collaboration with Billy Bragg. I remember one of my professors playing the class a song from this album, a song about Walt Whitman. I remember liking that one very much, but then again, apart from the song Whitman is also one of my favorite authors. This song is good as well. It's raucous and bluesy, and Billy Bragg is singing some Subterranean Homesick Blues-style fast talking words. Not only is this by far the best song on the list, it sounds like no other Wilco song I've heard so far. I'm not sure I'd go out and get any of the other Wilco albums after this, but I'm strongly considering getting this one.

Outtasite (Outta Mind): This is from Being There, when Wilco was just the other alt-country band that formed apart from Son Volt when Uncle Tupelo split up, before they became The Most Important Indie Rock Band Ever. This song then, is so-so alt-country at that. Nothing great.

A Shot in the Arm: I liked this one. It was okay in the beginning, but the middle pumped me up when Tweedy repeated “Baby all I need is a shot in the arm” over and over.This and the Billy Bragg song are my favorites. Apparently, however, this is the exception to the rule on this album (Summer Teeth), since it begins with the same dull song Wilco always records on every album:

Can't Stand It.

Misunderstood: Remember what I said about Being There? And remember what I said about slower-paced Wilco songs? Take a wild guess as to what I think about this song.

At Least That's What You Said: Zzzzzzzzzzz... Huh? Oh, sorry about that, I must have dozed off and forgot that I was writing a Wilco article. I'm assuming the rest of the band is noticing that their fans are falling asleep at the beginning of this song, since they've now resorted to banging one note on each of their instruments over and over again. Oh, and now here's some more meandering jamming. You know, I've never realized how bad some solo guitarists can be sometimes. Whoever this guy is, I swear his only tricks are either bending one note over and over, or maybe mixing it up by playing two over and over. Now, I do enjoy certain bands with bad lead guitarists, but to the best of my knowledge they don't spend nearly all of their time making the jamming portions the focal point of their songs.

Impossible Germany: I remember this song as one of the first three tracks from Sky Blue Sky I listened to in my car. I also remember thinking that this was a phenomenally idiotic title for a song. My opinion in that regard so far has not changed. And now I suddenly remember why I thought that this makes people fall asleep at the wheel. Most of the Sky Blue Sky stuff here was not bad, but this one still is. Thank goodness my previous intuitions were not all wrong.

Ashes of American Flags: “Gee, I wish I could like the Wallflowers, but they're just so rowdy. Is there a band out there that's a bit easier to listen to?” Hm. About three minutes have passed in a six minute song and it's winding down, who's willing to bet me that the band won't spend the latter half playing a boring solo? Ha! Bingo. Some reader out there hypothetically owes me twenty dollars.

So there you have it. Is my opinion of Wilco drastically changed? Well, not really. But although most of my criticisms still stand, I am now willing to concede that they're not terrible. I do like a few of their songs, and I can at least understand why others might like their music. The one thing I am wary about, however, is consistency in my opinions. With all of the criticisms I may have leveled against Wilco, I am sure that anyone could look into my collection and perhaps say the same sorts of things about any other band I might like. But here's the thing. When I listen to a certain band, I expect a certain thing or a few things done well, and I like a band when the band delivers on such a thing. Technically accomplished, satirical renderings of different genres of music with psychedelic lyrics and juvenile humor? Ween. Bizarre, jazzy music with raspy vocals and odd lyrics? Tom Waits. Decadent lyrics with fuzzy, distorted guitars and sunny Beach Boys melodies? The Jesus and Mary Chain. Quirky Baroque pop with whimsical, narrative-driven lyrics? Earlier Of Montreal (which is why I stopped liking them after Kevin Barnes wrote synth-pop songs, got rid of the catchy melodies and started talking about his goddamned feelings).You get the idea.

But Wilco? I'm not sure there's particularly anything that stands out in many of the Wilco songs I've heard so far. Even the good or acceptable ones sound a little same-y. They start out fairly bland and don't progress much, they lack hooks, as well as a sense of humor, they rely on aimless jams to conclude their songs, neither member of the band is all that technically accomplished, and Jeff Tweedy's voice is rather flat. And as for the critical acclaim thing, one could say, “But Garrett, all the music publications fawn over a band like Radiohead, and you like them.” You would be right. But Radiohead deserves it. No one has or ever will record a song that sounds like “Paranoid Android” alone. On the other hand, though, who am I to criticize this band? They do, after all, have gold records and Grammys. They're obviously making more money and having more sex than I am, so they must be doing something right. If it works for them, and if other people don't mind listening to it once in a while, good for them I guess.

I guess the only thing I resent about all this is that it's all going to show up on my last.fm page. If anyone takes a look at it, they might think that I actually listen to Wilco.