Dad rock. What is dad rock? I don’t know, because I just looked it up on Wikipedia and I was re-directed to the page for general rock music. I searched for a definition on Google too, and this is what the all-knowing search engine gave me for a definition: “rock music that appeals to an older generation, or that is heavily influenced by that of an earlier era.” By that definition, nearly every popular rock group is dad rock. The truth is, there’s no such thing as dad rock. Dad rock is a term that people use when they’re too lazy to properly evaluate a record or a group.
Which brings us to Wilco, a band that just released a new album, previously unannounced and for free, and a band I believe is just as good as any that’s ever existed. Yet Wilco, now in it’s 21st year of existence – it’s 11th year with the current lineup, an unprecedented era of stability for Wilco – is constantly getting slapped with the label “dad rock” – at least since the release of 2007’s Sky Blue Sky. The fact that the following two Wilco records, Wilco (the album) and The Whole Love were also labeled as such lends credence to the fact that “dad rock” is an utterly meaningless term.
Their latest album, Star Wars, was released last Thursday. As I mentioned earlier, it was released for free on the internet, without any prior notice. Various members of Wilco had stated that they had tons of new material for the next album, but even as late as June 26th, when Wilco’s music festival Solid Sound kicked off, the group wasn’t willing to disclose much more than the fact that, probably, they would release a new record towards the end of the year.
Little did we know, but the record was probably already finished by then – or just about finished. Either way, it came as a total surprise, even to the diehard Wilco nerds like me who meticulously keep track of rumors and gossip about hypothetical new albums.
The album starts off with a very short instrumental track “EKG” – it’s not the catchiest tune, but, it’s full of some neat little sonic details, and Wilco fans love details. Still, it’s a bit of an odd track, though ultimately one that makes more sense after hearing the whole record.
The second track “More...” is where things really pick up. Jeff Tweedy strumming chords gives way to a guitar riff, John Stirratt drops the bass, and Glenn Kotche and his drums kick in. It’s at that moment where your brain realizes, holy shit, this is a new Wilco record. “More…” leaves you bobbing your head, and – if you know them – singing along to the lyrics. It’s a good way to truly set the pace for the rest of the record.
“Random Name Generator” is the next track, and it will go down as one of the classic Wilco songs, especially from the post Sky Blue Sky era. While the riff playing throughout the song is simple – aren’t all great riffs? – the song itself is everything a great Wilco song can be: expansive, with so much sound to explore, extremely catchy, and something you can rock out to. Parts of the song are reminiscent of the rhythmic pounding of power chords present in “Spiders (Kidsmoke)” from 2004’s a ghost is born.
“The Joke Explained” the following song, is a slightly more playful and relaxed track, though one that still features power drumming and bass to hold it together through the verses. It’s also full of the sort of wistful, oddly insightful lyrics that Jeff Tweedy writes, including the following line, which applies to the relationship that myself and many other fans have with Jeff and the band – “I stared…at the eyes staring at my face.”
A more complex song follows, the five minute and sixteen second song “You Satellite.” It’s the longest song on the record, and perhaps the most interesting to dive into. It’s not as driving or rhythmic as some of the other songs, but it’s very layered, with all three guitar players (Tweedy, Pat Sansone, and Nels Cline, the greatest guitarist alive) at times each playing something different. In that sense it’s like a very distorted “Impossible Germany”- it’s like if that song had been released on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.
“Taste the Ceiling” is my (current) personal favorite song from the record. It’s an upbeat song, with slightly less upbeat lyrics – another Tweedy special. This is the kind of song one can easily imagine hearing Jeff play solo. That’s a bit of a rarity on this album, as none of the tracks feature exclusively acoustic guitar – though Jeff plays acoustic on some songs, there’s always a heavy electric presence be it Cline or Sansone doing the playing.
The following song “Pickled Ginger” is another song from the Wilco rock tradition – like every song on this album it’s more layered and sonically altered than say, “Monday” – but it rocks just as hard. You may also recognize this song as the one Jeff Tweedy and his “band” Land Ho played on Parks and Recreation.
“Where Do I Begin” starts off as one of the more straight forward songs on the album, just guitar chords and Jeff singing, nothing too fancy. Then, towards the end, the rest of the band kicks in and quickly takes you on a plunge through some noise rock riffing, but not for long. Like several of the more noise rock-y songs on the album, it seems like something that could be expanded and really explored in depth at a live show.
The final section of the record kicks off with “Cold Slope” which is led by some thick guitar riffs in Open G that keep you nodding along throughout the song. Some folks have cited this song as having a heavy Pavement vibe, and I can agree with that. But even then, it’s Pavement filtered through Wilco’s creative process, which is an entirely different thing.
“Cold Slope” leads directly into “King of You” – the two could honestly be one longer song, but they work very well broken up. “King” is a bit more heavy, but still similar to “Slope” – enough to sound complementary, and not repetitive.
Then there’s the final track, “Magnetized.” This one will go down with many other songs as another great Jeff Tweedy love song, though one could imagine it having been an unreleased Beatles tune. The song begins, and holds for a while, with just a chromatic piano chord structure and a metronome, before, as in previous songs on this album, the rest of the band kicks in. From there, it only gets more beautiful, and, to quote the song “I realize I’m magnetized” – magnetized to Wilco, that is.
Wilco, after a period where some – but not this writer - accused them of stagnancy, have released an unexpected and complex record. It is an LP unlike their previous releases, and although you can pick out some of the continuing strands like the origins of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’s sonic exploration during “Being There” if you listen close enough, it comes as a notable departure from their other albums. All the more remarkable is that it’s only about 33 minutes long, yet it still packs a heavy punch.
Star Wars should serve as the deathblow to the “dad rock” label for Wilco (it won’t, but that’s another story), not only because they released it in an incredibly modern way on a modern medium, but because the record itself consists of utterly modern rock songs. After 21 years, - almost the course of my entire lifetime - Wilco is continuing to grow and evolve, and they’re not doing it in off in their own little comfortable corner either, but rather up there amongst the leaders of the rock ‘n’ roll brigade, still rocking into the future.
