Drafting the Discography - Wilco
By You Can't Hear It On The Radio
October 6, 2011
BoxOfficeProphets.com

What am I looking at? Is this a sonogram?

You Can't Hear it on the Radio is a blog about the current golden age of music. At no time since the 1960s has there been such an output of quality music by so many varied artists. Add to that technology that makes it easier than ever for the curious to find good music today. But, like an unlimited selection at an all-you-can-eat buffet, there's no table service. You will have to seek it out. The old model is dead. Generally speaking, you can't hear it on the radio. You can learn about it here, though.

With the release of The Whole Love we decided to put the totality of Wilco's discography into perspective with a playground style draft. Since we alternated picks, this list doesn't represent either of our individual lists - for instance, Noah would almost certainly have A Ghost is Born higher than Sky Blue Sky, and I would have Being There lower on my own personal list. But as a joint effort it's a pretty fair list. Without further ado:

1) Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (Steve) - With the first pick there was little debate about which album belongs at the top of the list. What else can be said about Yankee Hotel Foxtrot that hasn't already? By the measure of this blog's tastes, Wilco has made several Great albums; Yankee Hotel Foxtrot goes beyond great - it's an iconic record that belongs on a shelf alongside other albums that explored the essence of what song arrangement can/should be, how a band can redefine itself, and how tremendous tension can lead to great art. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot's brethren in this regard are the likes of Pet Sounds, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Exile on Main Street, Led Zeppelin IV, Who's Next, The Wall, Rumours, Thriller, Achtung Baby, Nevermind, Kid A, Funeral.

I often think about two things when I listen to YHF. First of all, I imagine what it would have been like in the room with those Reprise Records executives when they first heard this album. As the opening strains to "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart" were heard - the electronic noises, the dissonance of the piano, the drum rhythms disconnected from everything else, Tweedy's monotone vocal reading of non sequitur lyrics - as those first seven minutes played out, what must have been going through the heads of those guys? We know how it played out, who was ultimately vindicated and vilified, but what must it have been like in that moment? Did they breath a sigh of relief upon hearing YHF's more straightforward second track, "Kamera"? How many nervous glances were exchanged during "Radio Cure" when it became clear they were dealing with something so thoroughly challenging? At what point did one of them first speak up, raising his concerns? What kind of changes were requested? What was said?

The other thing I think about is the late Jay Bennett. Much of the celebrated weirdness of YHF can be credited to Bennett. Yet we know how that played out too. Look, I'm more than fine with late period Wilco - it's some of the best music around, and in some ways I prefer it to early period Wilco. And I get too that Wilco can only make a YHF once. But I do think of Bennett when I listen, and I do feel sad for him.

2) Summerteeth (Noah) - I'm sure there's nothing I can say about Yankee Hotel Foxtrot that hasn't been said, but I'm going to reflect for just a second before I get to Summerteeth. Had I gotten the first pick, I certainly would have taken YHF. It is superlative. There are a lot of albums that are legendary for various reasons (Steve's list above is a great one) - fights between band members, drug use, long recording sessions, fights with record companies, being awesome - YHF is one that is not overshadowed by the album's story, which is well-known and epic. It's just awesome.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is one of the first legendary albums that I was old enough, mature enough and enough of a fan of both the band and music to understand just how revelatory it was. I listened to the stream on Wilco's web site and found a bootleg online. I listened to it repeatedly and knew it by heart before I was ever able to buy it (which I eventually did). I had loved both Summerteeth and Being There as I became a Wilco fan, but YHF - holy shit.

Anyway, back to Summerteeth. It was immediately after I graduated college that I discovered Summerteeth (and Wilco). I mentioned on Tuesday that my college roommate had been a Wilco fan and I’d dismissed them. I don’t remember what it was that made me do it, but to be honest it was probably that my roommate liked them. I'm enough of a jerk that I probably dismissed them out of being too cool for my roommate's music. Yes, it was stupid. Long after I moved home from college, I read an article, I don't know if it was Rolling Stone or what, but I read an article raving about Summerteeth and I went to my favorite record store (what's that?) to buy it.

At first listen, I remember feeling a little put off by how overt the influence of The Beatles was. Of course, now I can’t even find the Beatles in Summerteeth. Obviously, the influence is there, but it doesn’t distract. If Wilco sound like The Beatles, it’s natural rather than an homage. It's fitting that this draft has Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, followed by Summerteeth, followed by Being There - it's the reverse evolution of Wilco. Listening to the albums in order of release, Summerteeth is obviously the bridge between the Being There and Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. But it's not just that. Were it not for YHF, Summerteeth would be Wilco's masterpiece. It's a great album.

3 - Being There (Noah) - I knew when Steve got the first pick in our Wilco album draft that he’d take Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – like I said, it’s what I would have done and it’s appropriate - that is their defining masterpiece. But I believe Wilco has, to date, made three masterpieces – and Steve going first in our draft meant that I get both Summerteeth and Being There. If the band had broken up after Being There, it would have been a worthy career. Around the time of YHF's release, I had a friend who I told about YHF, telling him how great it was. I told him that I no longer struggled with which of Being There or Summerteeth was the best album and he couldn't believe that it was possible. That's how great Being There is.

The album starts with the slow build of Misunderstood, which - if you were fortunate enough to see Wilco in this era - was often their concert opener, with Tweedy basically shredding his vocal cords to start the show. Howling "I'D LIKE TO THANK YOU ALL FOR NOTHING AT ALL", Tweedy would blast away, opening the show with what was essentially a giant shock to anyone who was expecting traditional alt-country from Wilco. It's a marker for where the album is going and the evolution that had begun.

I don't think enough is made of Jay Bennett's influence on Tweedy and on the Wilco sound. For all the credit Tweedy deservingly gets for being a boundary pusher, I think that sonically he owes a sizable debt to Bennett, who famously was kicked out of the band not long after the completion of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. It's clear that his personality and Tweedy's didn't mesh, but what if that conflict was part of what made Tweedy evolve? In Uncle Tupelo, Tweedy and Jay Farrar were both creative partners and sparring partners. Anyone who has seen I Am Trying to Break Your Heart, the excellent Sam Jones documentary on the making of YHF, knows that Bennett filled the sparring partner role with gusto (if unintentionally).

As much was made about the seeming plateau of Wilco's sixth and seventh albums (Sky Blue Sky and Wilco (The Album)), is it possible that as the new version of Wilco got comfortable with each other they also got along too well? That's not to suggest that some new dissension is the catalyst for the greatness of The Whole Love, but more to suggest that as Tweedy matured, got healthy and happy, it's possible that he eventually didn't need a creative combatant any more.

In any case, that's a long way to go to get to this point - the addition of Jay Bennett to Wilco after A.M. helped the band get from an album that I don't even listen to with regularity to Being There, one of their finest.

4 - Sky Blue Sky (Steve) - Sky Blue Sky is a love letter from Jeff Tweedy to his wife, a paean to getting sober, an introspective contemplation of priorities, maturation, and relationships, and ultimately a resetting of expectations about Wilco's music. What kind of music should Wilco make? Tweedy says it best at the beginning of "What Light":

If you feel like singing a song
And you want other people to sing along
Just sing what you feel
Don't let anyone say it's wrong

Wilco can make cutting edge post-music music, and Wilco can make simple, pretty folk rock songs. They are inviting us along for the ride, but we should check preconceptions at the door. Tweedy himself said about the making of Sky Blue Sky: "I got nervous about the technology on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. If you need a certain amp or pedal to make a song what it is, it isn't a song". Sky Blue Sky was Tweedy dialing it back, getting back to basics, and getting to know his new bandmates that joined on following A Ghost Is Born.

A sucker for concept albums, what I like best about Sky Blue Sky is its cohesion. It's a single narrative told over the course of 12 songs. Whether strictly autobiographical or simply Tweedy acting as protagonist, the album tells the story of a man who has lost his relationships and himself. Recovering both will require steadfast resilience. Recovery is about doing the hard work that's required to see yourself and your world in a new context. As a vehicle to tell that story, Sky Blue Sky is an unmitigated success. Yes, the songs are quieter and more straightforward, but that approach fits the concept exceptionally well. It's tremendously courageous of Tweedy to put something so personal and emotionally raw out there for everyone to view. As a collection of songs, "Either Way", "Impossible Germany", "Sky Blue Sky", "Shake It Off", "Leave Me (Like You Found Me)", "Walken", and "What Light" stand up (in their own quiet way) with the best of Wilco's musical output. Even the lesser songs mid-album - "Please Be Patient With Me" and "Hate It Here" serve the purpose of showing our narrator at his absolute lowest point, so catharsis can begin. Tweedy candidly reveals this devastating exchange on "Hate It Here":

I'll check the phone again and I call your mom
She says you're not there and I should take care

"Hate It Here" is, despite its more superficial lyrics, the central thesis of Sky Blue Sky. When Tweedy sings about housecleaning it can be taken as an amusing bit of fluff, but he's actually singing about something deeper - his rehab and his relationship. It makes this line the crux of the entire album:

But keeping things clean doesn't change anything

Tweedy chooses to cover Underground Lovers' song "On and On" to complete the narrative. How did things work out in the end?

You and I will try to stay together, yeah
On and on and on. We'll be together, yeah

5 - A Ghost is Born (Noah) - Having just gone on and on about the importance of Jay Bennett to Wilco's sound, I'll now sing the praises of their first post-Bennett album. A Ghost is Born is an incredibly challenging album - it's basically the soundtrack of Tweedy's struggles with painkillers, which he was taking to deal with his long term problem with migraines. The album sounds like someone struggling. It is fuzzy and full of feedback. It's also a great sign of transition between the Wilco of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and the Wilco of Sky Blue Sky (not just because it is the album between the two).

I was a little surprised that Steve took Sky Blue Sky at number four in our draft, I would rank it seventh on my list of favorite Wilco albums. Had he taken A Ghost is Born, I would have likely taken The Whole Love in this spot. I made my opinion on The Whole Love pretty clear the other day, but suffice to say it is climbing up my list of Wilco albums from first listen.



6 - The Whole Love (Steve) - I'm delighted to get Wilco's latest release with the 6th pick in the draft, both because I think it is a great album and also because in any draft, it's always fun to get rookies and sleeper picks. Because we just sang its praises in our review on Tuesday, I will use my remaining time to say how fine I am with passing over A Ghost Is Born. Though it features some excellent songs - "Spiders (Kidsmoke)" is the standout track, "I'm A Wheel" is a good time, "Theologians" and "Company In My Back" are very essential - most of the rest of the album falls flat for me. Putting aside the 15 minutes of ridiculous noise that is "Less Than You Think", "Hell is Chrome", "Muzzle of Bees" and "Wishful Thinking" are among Wilco's least compelling songs. Half of the album is great, but the other half is forgettable and frankly kind of boring. Give me the consistently Really Good Sky Blue Sky over the uneven A Ghost is Born any day.

7 - Wilco (The Album) (Noah) - I'll have more later this week on the best song from Wilco (The Album) - Bull Black Nova - but for now, I'll say that I think this album is significantly better than Sky Blue Sky. It's got a number of non-Bull Black Nova standout tracks, including Wilco (The Song), You Never Know, and I'll Fight. But it's also the Being There to Sky Blue Sky's A.M. If I'm going to go all in on this analogue (and I am), I'm really looking forward to the next Wilco album (as I always), because that makes The Whole Love the new Summerteeth in the second act of Wilco and the next album the new Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.

8 - A.M. (Steve) - I tried to convince Noah I should have the seventh pick to compensate for his getting to pick second and third, just to try to avoid Wilco's debut. It's a fine album, but one I don't own and haven't listened to more than a handful of times. As I've said, back then I was more of a Son Volt fan, and Son Volt's debut Trace is the better of the two debuts. Wilco agrees, or at least Brian Henneman does: "The first Son Volt record was pretty fucking good. It was like watching a prize fight at that point. Wow! He slammed him there! Ouch! What a counterpunch! It was exciting being on the sidelines watching these guys. It's like Jay [Farrar] had something to prove with that first album, an urgency to it that none of his albums since have had. I felt he had a chip on his shoulder, and it shows up in the music. It was stunning. It was humbling. I think that kicked Jeff in the ass".

In contrast to the rest of their catalog, A.M. is merely a Good album, dwarfed not only by Trace, but by Wilco's follow up, the over stuffed buffet that is Being There. My favorite song on A.M. is "Casino Queen", a rollicking bar song with great lyrics like:

The room fills with smoke and I'm already broke,
And the dealer keeps on joking as he takes my last token

It's a song with great energy and a singable chorus for sure. In 1995 A.M. was an underrated first record from a band with an interesting legacy (Uncle Tupelo) and lots of promise. But, in 2011 it can't be anything else but an enjoyable afterthought compared to the entirety of what came after it.

For the original version of this post, including music, click here.