CD: Wilco - Ode to Joy

Love in the time of Trump

share this article

Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy has been pondering how to react to oppression, and his own music’s obsolescence. What use is a rock band’s eleventh album at the best of times, he’s wondered, let alone in these worse ones under Trump?

Wilco’s response is not to mirror their President in futile, raging protest. Instead, Ode to Joy is mostly gentle, built on acoustic strums of Tweedy’s toy guitar, and the relentless crunch of Glenn Kotchke’s percussion, which hammers against the protagonist’s self-deceit in “Everyone Hides”. Though static crackles at its margins, the music rises with purposeful optimism, while Tweedy’s lyrics also press against limits – the cage of bodily pain in “One And A Half Stars”, or separation from others in “White Wooden Cross”, dedicated to “all the people that I am not.” His first words are: “I don’t like the way you’re treating me.” Later, his otherwise fragile, lovely voice hardens in disgust as he notes our vicious moment: “I remember when wars used to end...now when something’s dead, we try to kill it again.”

“White Wooden Cross” combines its wide embrace with intimate fear apparently drawn from wife Susie’s cancer bout (“And my blood ran cold...what would I do?”). This personal, exemplary love builds towards Ode to Joy’s climax, through the ruminative Neil Young guitar clang of “We Were Lucky” to “Hold Me Anyway”. Then the album eats its tail from the closing “An Empty Corner” back to the opening “Bright Leaves”, both sympathetic, mysterious pictures of lost people. These are gnomic short stories of the Republic, and pure Tweedy feelings.  

In 1968, listeners to Dylan’s John Wesley Harding heard the Vietnam War in the silent spaces where it stood unmentioned. Then in 2001, when most had abandoned the idea that rock could not just reflect but affect its times, Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot appeared to prophesy the awful year of 9/11, offering oblique artistic comfort as the real carnage mounted. In 2019, Tweedy’s band are a healing force again, parting political storm clouds in an act of love.

Comments

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.

Plain text

  • No HTML tags allowed.
  • Lines and paragraphs break automatically.
  • Web page addresses and email addresses turn into links automatically.
These are gnomic short stories of the Republic, and pure Tweedy feelings

rating

4

explore topics

share this article

the future of arts journalism

You can stop theartsdesk.com closing!

We urgently need financing to survive. Our fundraising drive has thus far raised £33,000 but we need to reach £100,000 or we will be forced to close. Please contribute here: https://gofund.me/c3f6033d

And if you can forward this information to anyone who might assist, we’d be grateful.

Subscribe to theartsdesk.com

Thank you for continuing to read our work on theartsdesk.com. For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 15,000 pieces, we're asking for £5 per month or £40 per year. We feel it's a very good deal, and hope you do too.

To take a subscription now simply click here.

And if you're looking for that extra gift for a friend or family member, why not treat them to a theartsdesk.com gift subscription?

more new music

A new Renaissance at this Moroccan festival of global sounds
The very opposite of past it, this immersive offering is perfectly timed
Hardcore, ambient and everything in between
A major hurdle in the UK star's career path proves to be no barrier
Electronic music perennial returns with an hour of deep techno illbience
What happened after the heart of Buzzcocks struck out on his own
Fourth album from unique singer-songwriter is patchy but contains gold
After the death of Mimi Parker, the duo’s other half embraces all aspects of his music
Experimental rock titan on never retiring, meeting his idols and Swans’ new album
Psychedelic soft rock of staggering ambition that so, so nearly hits the brief
Nineties veterans play it safe with their latest album