Wilco’s influence is hard to quantify. Like the towering structures that pepper the skyline of their hometown of Chicago, the shadow they cast is hard to avoid. A singular entity and uncompromisingly inventive, they also require an investment of time from listeners. And under the stewardship of Jeff Tweedy they have amassed a large and loyal fan base over the last thirty years while never tipping over into a household name.
2022’s ‘Cruel Country’ was a rootsy return for the group. Focussing on live takes and their intuitive chemistry as opposed to studio experimentation, it threw up as many questions as it did answers for where they were heading. And perhaps in keeping with their ethos of exploring new territories they have now looked outside the doors of the Loft – their hallowed recording space – for a guiding light.
That light has come in the form of acclaimed Welsh artist and producer Cate Le Bon. Their decision draws a parallel with the Mountain Goats who enlisted Alicia Bognanno of Bully to produce their latest record. Both bands now deep into their respective careers, and comfortable in their way of working. But willing to push the envelope; to diversify or die.
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A fellow innovator and forward thinker Le Bon has seized the band by the lapels on ‘Cousin,’ pushing them not only in new directions, but to be the best possible versions of themselves. As a result Wilco sound reinvigorated yet comfortingly familiar at the same time. There is an icy detachment that runs through the record. Not an emotional disconnect, but a wider inability to understand the world around. For Tweedy it seems clear that advancing years don’t necessarily bring greater insight and the planet remains as bewildering a place as ever.
‘When The Levee Breaks’ and ‘Pittsburgh’ tremble with nervous anxiety. Like a smoker who has just dropped their last cigarette in the snow, they veer from minor key exasperation to resigned acceptance as the latter closes out amidst haunted feedback and the solemn thud of Glenn Kotche’s drums.
Tweedy though – perhaps more than most – knows the importance of balance. A man whose personal ups and downs were well documented in his book ‘Let’s Go (So We Can Get Back),’ he knows the traumatic shudder of a morning that follows a night of excess. But he also knows there is a way out of the gutter. Throughout ‘Cousin’ there is a tussle between capitulating to the weight of the world and dusting yourself off to fight another day. Ultimately, the good wins out and closer ‘Meant To Be’ – in Wilco’s own understated way – sounds positively triumphant. “Our love is meant to be,” assures Tweedy above the march of Nels Cline’s guitar.
‘Cousin’ is the perfect entry point for those who have inexplicably escaped the shadow of the Wilco’s influence to date. Showcasing all they do best it is also unique enough to stand as one of their finest moments.
9/10
Words: Craig Howieson
Dig This? Dig Deeper: Low, Lambchop, Slaughter Beach
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