Wilco (The Album) & American Central Dust

[wilconut]

I've heard both of these records. I've sat with them for a good amount of time--in the interest of full-disclosure, I have spent more time with WTA because I much prefer Tweedy over Farrar. And while the Son Volt boards will claim that their new record is better--a legitimate statement to make--and folks will most likely say that the Wilco record is better--another very legitimate statement to make--I've found that both of these records aren't so different after all. On the surface, their aesthetics, sure, these records are miles apart. But dig deeper and you'll find they cover similar ground: what each singer/songwriter and subsequent band is best at.

 

Hear me out. Jay Farrar is the lone troubadour of the blue-collar, Midwestern experience. There's no doubting that. His lyrics are working class. They tackle more times than not big issues. He squeezes as many words as he can into a melody often with profound effect. Jeff Tweedy on the other hand, while grounded in a similar tradition as Farrar, is more of a loose-cannon. Since the incarnation of Wilco, he's taken us down different avenue after different avenue, fearless in his quest for forge new musical ground. His lyrics are often opaque. They deal with heart break, dysfunctional relationships, often containing clever and deft turns of phrases. His songs experiment with structure, with what a song can do/should do.

 

With American Central Dust, Farrar is putting his best, weary, lonesome foot forward, singing about vacant downtowns and downsizing, about the workless and worthless, the redeemers and dreamers all cloistered in the American Midwest. The songs, musically speaking, are more times than not soft, easy going, even the rockers. Farrar mashes words together in such a fury that it almost exasperates the listener. Farrar is resting on his laurels here in the best way, and he does with a certain amount of grace, just enough to make the record sound wonderful but not enough for us to say he's really stagnating.

 

WTA on the other hand keeps the listener guessing. The Best of Wilco should've been the title of the album, each track offering something for each Wilco fan clinging to a certain period of their career. Each track moves us into new ground. The lyrics, while not as obscure or perhaps thought-provoking as in previous efforts, are Tweedy-esque with a clever mangling of phrases. Most of the songs on the record play with the idea of the pop song form, of what you can do in three minutes, of what a three minute song should offer up. Whether pushing forward or falling back, Tweedy and Co. seem comfortable on this record. They seem to enjoy themselves, to have fun with the songs.

 

Comfort. That's what both of these records have in common. Farrar and Tweedy are comfortable with the material. There is no inner tension laced within in the tracks. No agitation. At least not with themselves. Both of these records showcase each frontman doing what they do best respectively, what has transformed them from punk/country kids into the revered and respected musicians they are today.

[Beltmann]

No replies to this yet? Odd. I don't have much to add right now--I have not yet heard either album--but I'll say that I enjoyed reading your thoughtful take on them.

[bleedorange]

I gave him a thumbs up or +1 or whatever, but it seems those have been taken away.

 

I haven't heard Son Volt's album yet, so I couldn't comment, but I agree with a lot of what was said about Wilco's album.

[people are leaving]

Deeper Down & Dust of Daylight