Album Review: Wilco, "Wilco (the album)" (Nonesuch)

Adventure is given a respite on the seventh Wilco album as Jeff Tweedy and band return to the languid, melodic rock of their earliest albums of the mid-'90s. Within the timbrally consistent collection is the sparkling gem "You Never Know," a nod to George Harrison's post-Beatle melodic pleasantness.

An acoustic guitar, soaring wordless vocals and a gently applied slide guitar provide the calm; a clanging piano and the chorus of "I don't care anymore" resonate with disdain. Tweedy plays the weary man at the tune's center, wagging his finger at a young generation that just doesn't get it. The contradiction between the arrangement and sentiment provide the sort of gravitas Tweedy and friends have reveled in. Whereas recent albums spoke more of rebirth, the sentiments were cloaked in jagged guitar parts. "Wilco (the album)" is the inverse of "Yankee Foxtrot Hotel," a landmark recording filled with musical defiance and p.o.v. of a battered Tweedy wanting to return to earlier times and order a do-over.

The new album starts with the curiously titled "Wilco (the song)" that positions the group's offering as "a sonic shoulder for you to cry on." "Country Disappeared" and "Solitaire" provide a similar level of comfort. The former behaves like a supportive hug, the latter is a voice of understanding. It's Tweedy being a friend when the chips are down. He's doing it straightforward and without complication.