“These are a few of my favorite things…”

Everything has its plan, either way….

I would classify my position on Wilco over the years as “like-hate.” Certain songs, at certain times, rose almost to love-levels, but something was always holding me back. I had long felt their output uneven, a mix of the inspired (some by way of Woody Guthrie) and the insipid. But two other factors come to mind straight away. The first was at one of their shows in the early 00’s at the Auditorium Theater in Chicago, the band’s home town and also my own at the time. After a particularly warmly received song, front man Jeff Tweedy went full “doucher” and said, “if you love us that much then go out and buy our records!” TILT. Not his finest moment, to be sure, and I couldn’t have been alone in my disapproval. Second, fairly or not (the Grateful Dead come in for this sort of criticism so regularly that it’s priced in), is their fan base. How does one discern between true lovers of an artform and those who wish to bask in the reflected glory of local heroes? And while not mutually exclusive, would they have been embraced so fervently in — the necessarily restricted hipster circles of — Chicago had they hailed from, say, Tampa or Tulsa? I have my doubts. Anecdotally, their burnished reputation left more than a few outside of Chicagoland scratching their collective head.

Yet I’ve chugged along, buying (ah-hem!) a good number of their records and also attending 3-4 of their live shows, which were all very good (indeed liked, not loved). And when “Sky Blue Sky” landed, I fell immediately for the catchier songs like “Either Way” and “Impossible Germany.” I also enjoyed the track “Sky Blue Sky,” in part because it reminded me of Badly Drawn Boy. And “Please Be Patient With Me” still sounds like he deconstructed McCartney’s “Blackbird.” But, hey, I love the Beatles and have always been a Macca guy, so let’s just call it an homage… but the CD sat collecting dust with only the few selected tracks vying for space on my iTunes playlists. A sign of the times, no doubt. And it was almost 15 years later that I came to realize that, as the best ones do, “Sky Blue Sky” is outstanding as an album when played in its entirety. It is a truly remarkable work of shifting tones and intensity modulations, of lyrical flights, of feints and attacks, and it all somehow coheres. Not as a concept album, such as “Dark Side of the Moon,” or in the loose story-telling of “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots,” but as completed mood-arc. And in that way, I would liken the finest albums to a perfect dinner party — with all the ebbs and flows, the fits of laughter, the periods of pitched debate, and the moments of quiet contemplation (in the bathroom when checking your texts!). I’m going on a year, now, of heavy rotation and show no signs of tiring. And isn’t it true that some things we hold most dear are those that we at first rejected or only selectively tolerated. So it’s a convert’s zeal for this album! As for Tweedy and the band itself, I still hold them at half-arm’s length.