Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is widely considered Wilco's masterstroke, and by many publications, one of the few classic records of the past decade. While I agree that it's a pretty remarkable artistic achievement (and this is definitely an "art" record of some sort), many of the best tracks from those sessions actually didn't make the final record. To my ears, it's "Heavy Metal Drummer" that keeps Foxtrot from being a perfect record. I know many like it, but I consider it one of Tweedy's weakest songs to date. Fun? Maybe. Suitable for this record? Not a shot.
"Laminated Cat"
Imagine if they'd scrapped "Drummer" and replaced it with say "Laminated Cat/Not For the Season," a song that oddly found its way onto Tweedy's collaborative effort with Jim O'Rourke, Loose Fur. This song is arguably one of the best songs Tweedy's ever written, and like many of Tweedy's great songs, it was dropped onto a side project. I have no problem with this, but man would that track have fit in nicely on Foxtrot. And if he wanted to keep that track for his O'Rourke sessions, how about a slew of other tracks from the sessions, including "Shakin' Sugar," "Nothing Up My Sleeve," "Magazine Called Sunset" and the simply outstanding "Cars Can't Escape," the last being one of the best Tweedy/Bennett pairings.
"Cars Can't Escape"
Lastly, there are a number of alternate takes that outdo the tracks that made the final cut. The
alternate version of "Ashes of American Flags" is stunning, and although the album version is a
beauty, the other take is far more sparse and somewhat pastoral. It just feels like the disappearing
America that seems to be painted in the song.
Why this post? Well, I suggest you head onto the internet and track down the YHF Demos. They
may be just as important as the final record.
Here's the track listing (I'm sure there are different versions):
Three hours! Thirty. Seven. Songs. The back-to-back Big Star tribute of "Thank You Friends" and "In the Street" likely would have had me weeping. Alex Chilton's passing has hit me harder than I could have ever imagined. Just something about Big Star. I listened to #1 Record on the drive up 101 last night and it is honestly one of the greatest records ever, ever, ever recorded. The fact that this record was lost in some distribution snafu following release, would be like Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man having been self-published and only made available to a couple folks.
Back to Wilco last night. Look at this set list!
Electric: Ashes of American Flags Wilco (the Song) I Am Trying to Break Your Heart Bull Black Nova You Are My Face One Wing Shot in the Arm Muzzle of Bees Deeper Down Summerteeth Misunderstood California Stars Impossible Germany Poor Places
Acoustic: Spiders You & I Kamera Hesitating Beauty Laminated Cat When You Wake Up Feeling Old Dreamer in my Dreams Outta Mind (Outta Sight)
Electric: Airline to Heaven Always in Love Candy Floss Jesus Etc. Box Full of Letters Can't Stand It Hate it Here You Never Know Walken I'm the Man Who Loves You Thank You Friends (Big Star) In the Street (Big Star)
Every so often I post my favorite records ever. I think it was two years ago or so that I listed my Top 50 of All Time on this blog. If memory serves, Highway 61 Revisited took the top slot. Well, it's now 2010 and it's a Wednesday, which means that I have a new list. I wouldn't say that my top list changes every day; however, it certainly jumps around from month to month or year to year. Today, for some odd reason, I felt compelled to list out a new Best of. As I'm typing this right now, I still have no clue what will land on that list. Yes, it's that kind of day.
Neil Young Tonight's the Night (1975) Until recently, this record wasn't even among my top five Neil Young albums. Repeat listens over the past year or so have revealed the absolute brilliance of this record. Lacking any inkling of over-production or tinkering, this is a fucking rock n' roll record to the core. If you listen to this record top-to-bottom, and don't feel something, you have the soul of John Boehner.
Richard Buckner Devotion and Doubt (1997) When I'm moments from dying, I will probably finally proclaim, "After 5,532 lists, Devotion and Doubt is my favorite record ever! Later!" When considering the combination of lyrics and, I don't know, some sort of spiritual beauty, nothing I've ever heard tops this. I mean: "Wasted and well spent. Taken and once wrecked. Oh, you’re better than this and that. I thought I was cured of any last chance. Unfastened and floored. And now all I want is just a little nothing more."
Sam Cooke Portrait of a Legend, 1951-1964 (2003) What does the soul of man sound like? Sam Cooke.
Bruce Springsteen Born To Run (1975) I usually go with Darkness on the Edge of Town, which, deep down, is likely my favorite Springsteen record. I could also easily run with The Wild, The Innocent, The E Street Shuffle, but when it comes to the freedom that music can drill into the depths of one's gut, Born To Run is the epitome. "Well, the night's busting open. These two lanes will take us anywhere. We got one last chance to make it real. To trade in these wings on some wheels. Climb in back, heaven's waiting on down the tracks." My god.
Wilco Being There (1996) I spun all four sides on the turntable today and was reminded of the first time I listened to this record. I was working my first "music industry" gig out of college in Manhattan and booked over to Hoboken one afternoon to grab an advance. After the messy and furious opening, Tweedy's joined by Bennett on piano and sings, "When you're back in your old neighborhood, the cigarettes taste so good. But you're so misunderstood, so misunderstood. There's something there that you can't find." Yes, I thought. Yes, I thought again. And to this day, now 14 years later, despite coming to understand part of what I already knew, that song and this record nails me.
Marah Let's Cut the Crap and Hook Up Later on Tonight (1998) This afternoon I was driving around the city blasting the Stones' Exile on Main Street. Whenever I listen to this record, I think of Marah's debut. Maybe it was because this record hit exactly when I needed it. Maybe it's because I became friends with the guys from the band. Maybe it's because I drove from New York City to Philly almost every weekend to see these guys play the most full-on rock and roll that I've ever witnessed in a small club. Just like the Neil and Wilco records mentioned above, this is everything: rock, country, punk, soul, sex, heaven and hell all in one.
Big Star #1 Record/Radio City (1972) "Girlfriend, what are you doing? You're driving me to ruin. The love that you've been stealing. Has given me a feeling." Chris Bell and Alex Chilton are my Lennon and McCartney.
Uncle Tupelo Still Feel Gone (1991) Are new fans of Wilco aware that Jeff Tweedy was in a band prior to Wilco? And that they were incredible? And that Jay Farrar was also in that band? And that I once drove from New Jersey to Belleville, Illinois to look at their yearbook pictures and visit sketchy bars and ask about Jay and Jeff in high school? (Seriously.) The rage, inner turmoil and desire to escape that comes with growing up in a town with little to no opportunity explodes on Uncle Tupelo's second record. They were both "Looking for a Way Out," and shit if they didn't find it.
I was going to do ten, but I want to listen to these records so badly right now that I must run.
In the mid-to-late 90s, two of the best bands in the world were Philadelphia's Marah and Oxford, Mississippi's Blue Mountain. Toss in a member of Wilco and born was Camp Black Dog. At the time, I'd argue that Marah were the best band in the world, having just released one of the finest debut records ever with Let's Cut the Crap and Hook Up Later on Tonight. I can count on less than one finger the number of bands 2000-present who are as good as Marah were in the late 90s. Seeing them live was like seeing the Rolling Stones during their heyday or Springsteen at Main Point.
I believe the idea for Rock and Roll Summer Camp '98 was brought to life by Blue Mountain's Cary Hudson and his brother Chris. A bunch of bands would head down to Oxford, Mississippi for a few days, bring a ton of booze and instruments and just play whatever the hell came to mind. It was a mess. But a damn good mess. There were about 40 people, possibly as many dogs and certainly about 8x as many cases of beer. And these bands were at the height of their talents and passions.
In short order, the record was done and out. The record aptly opens with Marah's Dave Bielanko uttering, "It's important not to think when we're doing this. I just choked...thinking about bluebirds and shit" and in comes in a roar of guitars, banjos, drums, screams, maybe a flute? Brother Serge joins, "And I was a cocaine addict. Livin' on the road. Never going home" as the country and Irish influences blast throughout. I spent many a drunken night with the boys from Marah in the 90s, and well, this kinda spirit sounds pretty fitting. Wilco's John Stirratt takes the lead on the beautiful "Not So Far Away," but the highlight is the full band bombast of "The River" with Dave once again on lead.
I remember talking to Dave or Serge following Camp Black Dog and asking if a second summer camp may ever take place. They both assured me that it would and that I would be on the list of invites. The mere thought of being on hand for such an event had me grinning for months. Well, just like the days of Americana glory that took up the latter part of the 90s, it was short lived. Wilco got big. Marah released one more fantastic record before losing its way for a while and Blue Mountain suffered through a divorce and a long hiatus. Thus is the world of music, and life, I suppose. But Camp Black Dog reminds me of my favorite years of music. Bands such as 6 String Drag, The Backsliders, Whiskeytown, Son Volt, The V-Roys, 16 Horsepower and countless, countless others shaped everything about me. And Camp Black Dog brought many of them together.
I saw about 80 shows on this tour back in New York and up-and-down the East Coast, but this set list is downright absurd and causes me to at least mull a set of nude jumping jacks.
Wilco @ The Fillmore, San Francisco, CA, May 10, 1997
Misunderstood
Red-Eyed & Blue
I Got You (at the End of the Century)
Someone Else's Song
Why Would You Wanna Live
Forget the Flowers
That's Not the Issue
Someday Soon
New Madrid
What's the World Got In Store
(Was I) In Your Dreams
Shouldn't Be Ashamed
I Must Be High
Passenger Side
Screen Door
Hotel Arizona
Monday
Dreamer In My Dreams
Kingpin
Outtasite (Outta Mind)
The Lonely 1
Sunken Treasure
Gun
Oklahoma USA
Henry & the H Bombs
Color Me Impressed
I Wanna Be Sedated
Paranoid
Ziggy Stardust
Box Full of Letters
Casino Queen
We've Been Had
Jim O'Rourke entered Jeff Tweedy's recording life at the exact right time. Not only did he help in putting beautiful touches on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, but he opened up Tweedy to a world of sounds and exploration that changed the way Tweedy played and viewed music. Tweedy and O'Rourke's side project, Loose Fur, released their self-titled debut in 2003, and although it's a mixed bag, Tweedy offered up one of the best songs he's ever written. Formerly known as "Not For the Season," when performed by Wilco or Tweedy solo, Jeff and Jim renamed it "Laminated Cat" for its official release. The more passive Tweedy/Wilco fans may not know that some of Jeff's best songs bypassed both Wilco and Uncle Tupelo. Songs such as this one, "Blasting Fonda" (Feeling Minnesota soundtrack), "Please Tell My Brother" (Golden Smog) and "The Family Gardener" (The Minus 5) represent just a sampling of the fantastic songs that are a bit hidden. But "Laminated Cat" is on a completely different plane.
Candy left over from Halloween A unified theory of everything Love left over from lovers leaving Books, they all know they're not worth reading They're not worth reading
Given a slew of reasons (fewer paychecks, preferring to sit at home and listen to records/read/take bubble baths, etc.) my nights out in rock clubs decreased pretty significantly in 2009. However, I do believe that this is temporary. There's still nothing as therapeutic and soul-grabbing as a live performance and 2010 will likely see me out much more. Like every year since 1993 or so, I was fortunate enough to see some amazing live shows. I'm probably forgetting some, but off the top of my dome, these are the most memorable:
1 Son Volt @ The Fillmore, San Francisco, CA, 12.9.09
2 Wilco & Okkervil River @ The Berkeley Theatre, Berkeley, CA, 6.27.09
3 Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band @ Giants Stadium, East Rutherford, NJ, 10.3.09
4 Brian Jonestown Massacre @ Coachella, Indio, CA, 4.18.09
5 Damien Jurado @ Bottom of the Hill, San Francisco, CA, 5.5.09
I suppose it's pretty rare that songs play a part in a monumental change in your life. I can think of a handful that have truly changed something inside of me for good. Most likely, that shift is the result of some life happening that ties into that song: lost love, death, birth, falling in love, viewing something in nature, etc. Wilco's "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart" is one of those songs. I got my hands on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, from what I remember, a few months before 9/11. I was absolutely floored. It took me weeks to get even a little understanding of the complexity of the album, but it was the lead track that had my jaw on the ground. Opening with fuzz, distortion, bells, buzzes, clocks and pianos, the song felt like a soul-altering listen. And then came the acoustic strum and the erratic drums. And then, "I am an aquarium drinker, I assassin down the avenue, I'm hiding out in the big city blinking, what was I thinking when I let go of you" followed by organs, cascading guitars, tight drum fills, slaps and a near explosion of words and sound.
And then came September 11, 2001. And this record was a musical version of the chaos that I witnessed for one day beginning on the F train around 9am.
First, let's mention some artists who were in contention:
Josh Ritter was clearly near the top. Eels were right behind or alongside Ritter. Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band were't far behind. M. Ward, Damien Jurado and Okkervil River certainly cracked the top ten. Josh Rouse and Bonnie "Prince" Billy were in the mix. Despite only releasing two records, both of which are phenomenal, The Arcade Fire have to be considered. Spoon made some good records. Nathan Moore quietly became one of the best songwriters around. Austin, Texas' The Gourds continued doing what they do and doing it great.
But this one was fairly easy.
Although they arguably released their best and most consistent material in the 1990s, Wilco are the top artist of the 2000s. Through numerous lineup shifts, label changes, rehab stints, hairstyles and even a very untimely death, now 15 years strong, Wilco have solidified themselves as one of the greatest American bands ever, and undoubtedly, the best of the past 15 years or so.
They opened the decade with their second Mermaid Avenue installment, one that didn't live up to the brilliance of its predecessor, but still contained some great Tweedy songs, including "Remember the Mountain Bed," "Airline To Heaven" and "Secret of the Sea." It didn't contain the depth of Volume 1, but Wilco and Bragg still gave us a solid effort.
And then it all changed. Lead members Jeff Tweedy and Jay Bennett were clearly reaching a creative apex together and that madness and mania resulted in what many consider the best record of the decade, 2002's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. This record is worlds away from Tweedy's work in Uncle Tupelo and really anything that preceded Bennett's invitation to join the band. It was clear following Wilco's 1995 debut A.M. that Tweedy was looking to expand, and there's little question that a lot of the band's maturation can be attributed to Tweedy simply evolving, but there's also no questioning Bennett's influence. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, at least to my ears, feels like a complete divvying up of roles. Tweedy took the reigns as the songwriter and wrote some of his or anyone's best lines to date. Bennett oversaw the sonic mayhem that ultimately made this record an artistic dream.
And then came the dreaded masterstroke follow-up. And they came through. They didn't try to toss out a YHF sequel, but rather took some of the elements that made Foxtrot so mentally transcendent, but pulled it back a bit. More reserved, yet equally as touching at points, tracks such as "Hell Is Chrome," "Wishful Thinking," "Company In My Back" and "Handshake Drugs" are poignant stories and fill out A Ghost Is Born. Some of the unexpected charm and adventure is clearly lost, but no one expected a repeat performance, especially following Bennett's departure/dismissal. But they came through again.
And then the band returned to its bread and butter on 2007's Sky Blue Sky. Instead of shooting for the stars, it seems as if they just made a record, and a very good one. The endless tinkering that had come to be a cornerstone of the new Wilco was either abandoned or shelved in favor of a fairly straightforward collection of songs. "Maybe just need some time alone," Tweedy questions on the opening track "Either Way." And maybe this was just it. This feels like a record that Tweedy had unconsciously been writing for a while and this was the perfect time to let it out. Although not as "daring," Sky Blue Sky is more consistent top-to-bottom than Ghost. Sit back and listen to this record all the way through and you're likely to fall into its gracefulness for an hour. And forgive me for this, but you'll walk away enriched because, sometimes, "you're trying to paint a picture, but you're not sure which colors belong."
To close out the decade, this year brought us Wilco (The Album). As always, it has its moments, most notably "I'll Fight," but this may be their most fractured effort of the decade. It's hardly lackluster, and sounds like the band was genuinely just trying to have fun, but the results don't live up to the band's greatness. But having assembled such a masterful catalog, how could they? And like many Wilco records, time will reveal this record's true artistic value. It took me about four years to truly appreciate A Ghost Is Born. This one's barely had time to press on through.
Twenty to thirty years from now, Wilco will be considered one of the greatest, if not the greatest, band of this period. And Jeff Tweedy will be mentioned right alongside Dylan, Young, Springsteen, Lennon, Drake and Van Zandt as one of the greatest songwriters to ever marry words to music. And in many senses, if we're lucky, it feels like there's still a lot to come.
Wilco in the 2000s Mermaid Avenue, Volume 2 (2000) Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (2002) A Ghost Is Born (2004) Kicking Television : Live In Chicago (2005) Sky Blue Sky (2007) Wilco (The Album) (2009)
Jeff Tweedy, Jay Bennett, John Stirratt, Leroy Bach, Pat Sansone, Glenn Kotche, Mike Jorgensen, Nels Cline
Yes, that is Jay Farrar (UT, Son Volt, Gob Iron) on the left and Jeff Tweedy (UT, Wilco, Golden Smog, my apartment) on the right. I think the lead singer found his way into a scene in Karate Kid, Part 8.
I have 100 eMusic credits and literally can't find anything. Maybe my five-year run is about to come to an end. (I do appreciate the 50 freebies eMusic just tossed my way. I suppose that massive price increase didn't go over so well?)
Eugene Robinson talking about the possibility of a democrat running against Obama in 2012. I know, it's a bit early (like, *really* early), but dems are so on edge about this health-care bill that they could abandon Obama in droves. I do appreciate the progressive caucus saying: "no public option, we vote no." Wait, there are elected leaders with courage? Obama's presidency is growing more tenuous by the day. If he had stood firm with the public option from the outset, it would pass with flying colors. Now we'll be lucky if we all get a free toothbrush.
I went on perhaps my first "hike" ever today, and I must admit, it was quite enjoyable. After gumping for a few miles, I found myself still full of energy and commenced booking into the woods and up some fairly steep inclines. When I hit the top and Slobberbone's "Your Excuse" kicked in, I nearly jacknifed into the bay.
On the way home, I stopped into Safeway to pick up some nuggets. Comedy moment: I asked the bubbly lady at the deli counter how the turkey was (I haven't eaten turkey in probably two years) and she offered up a sample, which, no joke, was at least 3/4 lb. I laughed and held it up. "It's delicious," she said.
How tedious were the Facebook health care status updates today? Good lord are Americans lazy slobs. How about e-mailing or calling your representative? I'm not saying some aren't, but many probably feel they've done their job by copying and pasting someone else's idea into their silly Facebook update.
The next time I hear someone say "killing it" in reference to a band, I likely may use those two words on myself. "Fail" comes in a close second.
As I consider the possibility of moving, I've yet to even mull an American city. I don't have the first clue how to go about moving to Canada or somewhere else where I can get away from the flag-waving, eagle-tattooed bigots that seem to actually have influence in policy debates, but I outta explore.
I'm in for Springsteen at Giants Stadium on Oct 2 and 3. I'm wondering if I can make it to Kansas City to see Wilco on the 6th. I'm also wondering if Frank White will let me crash on his couch. Add in Dylan in Berkeley on the 11th and that's my top three of all-time all within nine days.
I had a long talk with my mother yesterday. Such talks are pretty common as we usually connect every Sunday, but I could tell from the outset that this one would be a fairly long one. There's been a lot going on in our lives, especially on the family front and there was a lot of ground to cover. I told her about an unreal experience I had Friday night. With a lot on my mind and a fair amount of stress weighing me down, I walked into a Polk Street pub at around 6pm. As the bartender handed me a drink, I heard the first notes to Wilco's "Summerteeth," a song that opens to the sounds of birds chirping and a river running. It nailed me. When Jay Bennett's organ came in mid-way through the song, I lost it for a few seconds. It was the most hopeful and dare I say, spiritual moment I've felt in a long, long time. Kinda like that morning on that beach in Ponte Vedre, Florida or that Friday night sitting below a massive starry sky down in Sunnyvale. Yes, it was one of those moments.
Back to the Sunday chat. As we were covering a few upcoming events that have brought on anxiety in my family, I did my best to put things into perspective for my mom. She seemed to be doing ok. Then we talked about Ted Kennedy. A few nuggets about a couple of my cousins came next. On to other family issues, which are ever-present on either my mother or father's side of the family. There's always something that has someone rattled.
But then came a little story about my stepfather's cousin. She's been living alone up in Rhode Island for many years. Due to a number of ailments, she's been on disability for many years and rarely leaves her tiny apartment. From time to time, my mother sends her a little care package. The smallest box of cookies and cashews will make this woman's day, if not month. My mom said that she recently called, and sounding slightly shaken due to nerves, finally found the courage to deliver a small request. She needed eight dollars to get to an appointment in town. Eight dollars. You see, every penny she receives is accounted for and there isn't a spare dime for unplanned costs. She just needed eight bucks. Since she can't make it to the bank, my mom had to send cash. "I hate sending actual cash," mom said, "but I didn't have a choice. I put a ten dollar bill in the mail. I hope it made it." It's amazing what a story like this can do to one's perspective. Not only will it help a distant cousin get to an appointment, but its left a relative she's never even met with a lasting imprint. And it was only eight dollars.
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is widely considered Wilco's masterstroke, and by many publications, one of the few classic records of the past decade. While I agree that it's a pretty remarkable artistic achievement (and this is definitely an "art" record of some sort), many of the best tracks from those sessions actually didn't make the final record. To my ears, it's "Heavy Metal Drummer" that keeps Foxtrot from being a perfect record. I know many like it, but I consider it one of Tweedy's weakest songs to date. Fun? Maybe. Suitable for this record? Not a shot.
