Wilco

Summerteeth

Truly an American Beauty

Review Score:

(10/10)
I simply wasn't prepared for this. Back in 1990 or so, I seized on Uncle Tupelo and their sad, strange, ineffably American sound: D. Boon and Bob Mould careering into Hank Williams and the Carter Family.

So when UT split off, and regenerated as Son Volt (led by Jeff Farrar) and Wilco (fronted by Jeff Tweedy), I grudgingly acknowledged the split as inevitable, and anticipated something akin to the rootsy garage rock they perfected.

While I wasn't expecting a tired rehash of the "No Depression" school UT is credited with founding, but even so, Tweedy's daring search for musical truths is nothing short of astounding.

From "AM" through the incredible "Being There," up to the wondrous Billy Bragg collaboration on "Mermaid Avenue" that put music to Woody Guthrie's newly discovered words, Wilco has explored -- and subtly exploded -- new song forms and ideas. I hesitate to call "Summerteeth" the apex of Wilco's forward urge, because I suspect Tweedy's restless genius has some great journeys ahead.

So for now, I willl continue to luxuriate in the densely beautiful sound of "Summerteeth," as Tweedy/Wilco conjure an incredible array of spirits -- the Beatles, Brian Wilson and the Byrds to name but a few -- while crafting some of the most irresistable pop that's come our way in recent years.

Of course, this is Jeff Tweedy we're talking about, so beware the hooks. "Summerteeth" has a lush, resonant and orchestral sound, but sadness and danger often lurk beneath its shiny pop surfaces. Tweedy's keening voice is getting better with age, and it has the capacity to startle when he sings "I dreamed of killing you again last night/and it felt alright to me" on the rueful "Via Chicago." Even at its brightest and bounciest, "Summerteeth" is disarming, as on the bubbly "I'm always in love," which opens with Tweedy asking, "Why, I wonder, is my heart full of holes."

I'm forever upset about the lack of popular acclaim and the abundance of critical neglect that consigns some of our greatest bands to a form of neglect that is hardly benign. So it's never easy for me to simply recommend a group Wilco without urging any willing listener to dig deeper and go back to Uncle Tupelo, which was so graced by Farrar's and Tweedy's populist sensibilities.

That said, I have to accept that Tweedy has gone someplace new and different. It's not that he's abandoned roots rock so much as traveled further down a continuum of glorious modern American music.

Sure, I miss UT, but "Summerteeth" makes me grateful for Tweedy's restless, journeying spirit.

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