Before: I heard them briefly play before the tired and tattered dog Bob Dylan took the stage at the Americana fest this summer. I was taken by surprise at how much their sound jived with me. I think of a richly hearty whole grain bread when I remember them; they were substantially loaded with nuts and seeds and unrefined grains. Still don't know much about them, though.
After: Unfortunately, I was underwhelmed. I expected the soundtrack to my time coloring in some funky pictures would be, well, colorful. But it wasn't. Maybe the lyrics really mean something when completely heard, but I had no such bomb of intrigue. Like their album cover, the music was a worn tan color, like the tired shade you find in picture books from the 70's. There were some hooks that got my attention for a moment, but by the next song, I was disinterested again.
I really do like Wilco. I even procrastinated listening to this album to a night when I was completely free of other duties. But that worn, tired tan color is best how I describe it. I'll definitely listen to their music in the future. But this time, Wilco, you fed me stone soup without the community to make it anything more than such. Let's hope #492 will reinvigorate me with some sustaining sounds.
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