Wilco - Wilco (The Album)

There is a darkness that hovers over the songs on Wilco's seventh studio album. Beneath the earnest simplicity, the band seems ready to face the mirror. The title of the album tips its hand to the confessional nature of the proceedings.

One of the things that a band like Wilco learned is that you can't even please all of your fans all of the time. There were people who moaned about the experimental nature of "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" and "A Ghost Is Born". There were fans who pined for the alt-country of "Being There". Then, you have the fans who think "Sky Blue Sky" was too straight-forward. So, for "Wilco (The Album)", Jeff Tweedy and company decided to produce the album themselves, with the help of engineer Jim Scott. Borrowing heavily from their own sonic palette, the songs came together very quickly after Wilco returned from Auckland, New Zealand where they participated in the Oxfam International benefit project.

"Wilco (The Song)" opens the album with a clatter as Tweedy whispers, "Do you dabble in depression? Is someone twisting a knife in your back? Wilco will love you, baby." For the next forty-two minutes, Wilco showers their people with the love by wearing their influences on their sleeves. The album has the feel of a band channeling their new music through their own record collection. You can hear Big Star, George Harrison, Motown and Talking Heads lovingly sprinkled throughout the beautiful hum of songs like "You Never Know" and "Sunny Feeling".

But, don't be fooled. All of this clarity feels like the moments when the hangover wears off, at times. "Bull Black Nova" is littered with images of violence and blood. "It's in my hair/It's on my clothes," sings Tweedy with all the dread of a man who wakes up in a hotel room next to a body. Finally, he realizes, "This can't be undone".

Feist shows up long enough to add sexual tension to the mix as her voice tangles with Tweedy's for the lovely "You and I". On "One Wing" Tweedy moans, "One wing will never ever fly, dear. Neither yours nor mine. I feel, we can only wave goodbye." Its a sobering realization and a stark reminder of how Tweedy can make heartbreak sound so beautiful. Even the gentle 60's flourish of "Deeper Down" sounds haunted and ominous as studio noise churns and hisses under Tweedy's measured and distressed delivery.

There are those that will tell you that this Wilco album is not as good as some of their earlier efforts. That would be a shame since Tweedy and his partners (the same men as the last album - a first for this band) have crafted a nuanced and haunting album that sounds like the sun going down on a beautiful summer day.

Finally, the album rounds out with "Everlasting Everything". It's a beautiful meditation on mortality and the endurance of love. Tweedy sings, "Everything alive must die. Every building built to the sky, will fall. Don't try to tell me my everlasting love is a lie." The sentiment and the song are breathtaking. But, no matter how beautiful the noise, "Wilco (The Album)" is full of clatter and an unflappable ease. Even when the songs break your heart, Wilco gives you a shoulder to cry on.

After all...Wilco loves you, baby.