It’s nice to think that behind every great album there’s a great story, maybe even a great drama. Wilco endured a bona fide epic in its attempts to release its new album, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.
Here’s the short version: Wilco recorded the follow-up to 1999’s remarkable Summerteeth and presented it to Reprise Records, who freaked over the record’s “uncommercial” sound and refused to release the album without extensive remixing. The band freed itself from its contract, bought the master tapes and proceeded to stream the album to fans from its website while looking for a new label, all of which created a frenzy of underground buzz. During the course of these events, the band parted with co-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennett and longtime drummer Ken Coomer. Finally, last winter they signed with Nonesuch Records, a label known primarily for world musicians (Caetano Veloso, Youssou N’Dour) and avant-garde composers (Steve Reich, John Adams). And this week, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is available for purchase.
It’s indeed an epic drama, which suits this epic album perfectly.
Perhaps “epic” fits in several senses: Jeff Tweedy, erstwhile leader of the band, might just be the best candidate for a contemporary musical Odysseus. Stranded with the restricting alt-country label after the bitter breakup of Uncle Tupelo, Tweedy’s been on an odyssey of sorts ever since. Each successive album brought him farther away from that particular shipwreck. With the release of Summerteeth, he finally managed to effectively escape the sirens of alt-country. And, after one last battle with his record company, Tweedy has arrived where he’s wanted to be all along.
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is the final document of that odyssey?the album in which Tweedy says goodbye to alt-country once and for all. The farewell begins with the title track, “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart,” where a mellifluous electronic drone introduces the listener into Wilco’s new world. With the first strikes of the snare drum, new drummer Glenn Kotche takes Wilco over the final hump left by the remains of Uncle Tupelo. Kotche’s drumwork apes Hal Blaine’s Pet Sounds heyday?a sound which former Tupelo drummer Coomer imitated with only moderate success on Summerteeth. Combined with delightfully enigmatic Tweedy lyrics like “You’re quite a quiet domino, bury me now / Take off your band-aid, ‘cause I don’t believe in touchdowns,” and ending with a schizophrenic synthesized screech, this song doesn’t wish alt-country on its way?it pisses on its grave.
The next track, “Kamera” is a breezy number that nicely showcases the pop dimension of Tweedy’s songwriting gifts. However, the most accessible song on the album, the only song remotely likely to get any mainstream radio play, the pop-fueled engine driving the album is “Heavy Metal Drummer.” While the song might be as cogent and catchy as Tweedy’s music has ever been, his nostalgic lyrics are perhaps his most inscrutable. The straightforward wistfulness of a chorus like “I miss the innocence I’ve known / playing Kiss covers beautiful and stoned,” is a bit out of place on the otherwise foreboding content on the rest of the album, making it all the more poignant.
The heart of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, however, both sonically and lyrically, is “Ashes of American Flags.” Beneath a slow, sublime layer of piano and acoustic guitar lies the cornerstone of the record?the song’s plaintive chorus: “I know I would die if I could come back new.” The regret implied in that line seems to encapsulate the trials Wilco has endured. The sense of regret and wistfulness permeates this song and the entire album: I’ve learned a lot; if only it could just start over again. All of this before the song degenerates into a cloud of electronically generated noise. Epic, indeed.
Actually, epic might be an unfair moniker for Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The stodginess and finality accompanying that particular word is unfair to the vitality of its music. More importantly, Tweedy’s odyssey is certainly not over. He may be where he’s always wanted to be, but now with full songwriting responsibilities, a talented new drummer and a friendly record label, Tweedy has the freedom to make a good deal of important music, and Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is likely only the beginning.
