Album of the Week: Wilco's "Ode To Joy"

By Rhea Thomas

Usually when I think of post-hiatus or reunion albums, I think of a change in sound, style or abandoning every essence of what makes a particular artist’s sound appealing to a — uh, ~commercial~ audience. But this record doesn’t have to try hard to achieve what it does —  Ode to Joy is reflective, humane and unbelievably atmospheric.

The album hones on particular sounds that I associate with winter — rumbling storms, crunching snow and the twinkling and pitter-pattering of water when the snow starts to melt, revealing a skeleton of spring. There is a general warm tone about the entire album, coloured by acoustic guitar, piano and a bare bones kit. Without focusing on any over-complexities or intricacies, every track on this album muses with a percussive simplicity, welcomingly drawing all attention to the honesty of Tweedy’s lyrics in the foreground. Not unlike their earlier albums, Ode to Joy feels like waking up after a good night’s sleep where suddenly, the band’s hiatus dissolves away into a dream you can’t remember. Wilco, welcome back.

Though at times lacking variety in its arrangements, Ode to Joy seems self-aware in its unification and presents itself as a modest come-back, inviting listeners to focus on the subtler changes and variations within and between the tracks. ‘Bright Leaves’ introduces the dominant imagery of the album, followed by ‘Before Us’ as a twinkling memoir to the generations and cultures of the past. ‘Quiet Amplifier’ sits comfortably in a steady trudge, slowly evolving into the entrance of the single, ‘Everybody Hides’; easily identifiable as the most upbeat track on the album, the namesake ode to joy really begins here, transitioning into the folk tunes of ‘White Wooden Cross” through to other single, ‘Love is Everywhere (Beware)’, lilting and drifting to the close of the album. ‘Hold Me Anyway’ seemingly is the most under-appreciated track of the album — “Are we all in love, just because? No I think it’s poetry and magic, Something too big to have a name” — exploring the sense of inevitability and uncertainty, this song roots itself in courage while facing a sublime moment of feeling insignificant.

The stripped back sound of this album embodies the same sensation of awesome sublimity and seems to accompany Tweedy’s lyrics with ease. In particular, tracks like ‘Bright Leaves’ create expansive atmospheres that sit blurred behind the trudging drum kit and vocals, scattered with a variety of sonic textures and effects that continue to unfold. In other tracks like ‘Quiet Amplifier’, Tweedy’s voice ornaments the instrumental ostinato, embellished with washes of cymbals and beautiful harmonies. A particular note to mention: the brilliant guitar work in ‘White Wooden Cross’ and ‘Hold Me Anyway’ - Nels Cline elegantly fuses elements of country twang and indie distortion, stepping forward and colouring the subdued instrumentation.

The album is a demonstration of Tweedy’s back-to-basics writing, and a track by track narration of what he feels he ~knows~; And that’s exactly what there is to love about Wilco - it’s this overwhelming sense of modesty and wider wisdom brought through in the bare instrumentation and hushed vocals. As such, it makes sense that the value of the album draws particularly on the lyrical style and allusions to personal responsibility and experience - “Men and women, Citizens, Carry your own cross” sings Tweedy. It’s not necessarily a joyful album but rather an almost Bob-Dylan-like poetic composition studying microcosms and littler moments to appreciate and indulge in. Ode to Joy offers a universal and intentional impressionist study of the now, controlled in its deliverance but really not holding anything back.