| Unless you’ve been in a coma for the past few years, or unless you’ve completely shut yourself off from the world of music, chances are you know the story behind Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. For me to go into to it would serve no purpose; every review has talked about it, everyone thinks of it everytime the album is mentioned. At risk of being monotonous and redundant, I’ll sum it up in a nutshell as such: Wilco created a brilliant, uncompromising album; their label Warner Bros. wouldn’t release it. So in 2002, the album sees the light of day ironically on Warner subsidiary Nonesuch. Albums shrouded in such controversy and turmoil can fall victim to legend and exaggeration. But, my friends, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is everything it’s been made out to be and more. I hate using a cliché, but if there’s one album you need to own this year, this is it. From the opener, the messy, wondrous, surreal, piano-based “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart,” it’s easy to see why the “unmarketable” excuse Warner supposedly made as reason for shelving the album came about. The song is all-over the place. The drums never seem to kick in when there supposed to, Jeff Tweedy’s words and lyrics are sound strangely otherworldly, and the song eventually falls apart into torrents of organ drones and piano. It sounds as if Wilco is experiencing a nervous breakdown. Much of the album might bring to mind power-pop icons Big Star’s pseudo-unreleased third record Third/Sister Lovers, a bleak, beautiful, disturbing album that showcased the group’s creative center Alex Chilton falling apart. The songs crumbling apart, the bleak and surreal atmosphere, the mixture of convention and everything which defies convention, the possible self-destructive tendencies of the songs, it’s all there. But Yankee Hotel Foxtrot seems to offer a sense of hope, even if very subtly. It’s a difficult, intense listen that’s ultimately worth all the time you might need to spend delving into the depths of this album. “Radio Cure” is a mostly acoustic number backed by foreboding electronic sound effects and contrasted with the gentle strumming of an acoustic guitar. “Ashes Of American Flags” and “Poor Places” both end in explosions of distortion and noise despite as a whole being generally soothing, yet mournful songs. “Heavy Metal Drummer” seems to offer a sort of reprieve from the emotional intensity of the album as Tweedy cheerfully reminisces of “[missing] the innocence [he’s] know/playing Kiss covers beautiful and stoned.” The supposed abandonment of Wilco’s alt-country roots has drawn some criticism from longtime fans. Indeed, “I’m The Man Who Loves You” sounds like 60's rock free-for-all, but the band still touches on its roots, if in a more underlying sense. “Jesus, Etc.” is very well my favorite song of the year. It flirts dangerously with lite-rock AOR from the 70's-80's, but it never falls victim to schmaltz or melodrama. It’s straight-forward, sad, and undeniably beautiful. Anyone who does not believe this to be the album of the year need only listen to this song. Alt-country’s OK Computer? Probably not. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is more inviting, more down-to-earth. Yet it’s an experience that is not immediately accessible. It takes time to understand, to appreciate like all classic albums. All the hype and praise is deserved. I really haven’t been more pleased or surprised with an album in years. If this had not been released, it would have been a great lose. You need this album, no questions asked. |
| Artist: Wilco Album: Yankee Hotel Foxtrot Year: 2002 Rating: |
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| by Paul Haney |
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