Sukierae
(dBpm)
Jeff Tweedy’s new album arrives without his band Wilco, but with the assistance of his 18-year-old son Spencer, who takes the drum duties. Tweedy sings and plays guitar, bass, and most of the rest of the instruments. Happily for Tweedy fans, it’s a double album. It gets its name from Tweedy’s wife (it’s her nickname), who recently fought off a return of cancer. The album, notably, arrives via Wilco’s label, the Easthampton-based dBpm.
There’s a restlessness in evidence throughout—the drums often skip along in faster-paced counterpoint to Tweedy’s slowly unspooling melodies, and the song styles change a fair bit. Through all the changes, though, there’s a clear thread. Tweedy’s relaxed vocals wind through deft, often restrained soundscapes full of pleasantly weird guitar noise. At times, things depart for Beatles-esque, heavily psychedelic territory. Other times, the songs tread more familiar territory, with strummed acoustic guitar and a back-porch feel. There’s even a waltz.
Tweedy manages a trick few songwriters can—the album has its more and less interesting parts, but there’s not a single tune that begs to be skipped. Every tune of the 20 is worth the listen, and the album’s comfortable melancholy sticks with you. It works more as a whole than through individual songs, hearkening back to the time when albums were more often heard in their entirety. Even when the shadow of the Beatles is unavoidable, Tweedy puts his own compelling brand on the proceedings. Sukierae is an eloquent argument that Tweedy is at the pinnacle of his powers.
