"HEAVY METAL DRUMMER" WILCO (2002)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

One of Wilco’s hallmark sounds as a band is the intermittent cacophony that comes in the middle of several of their songs. It’s a technique that I’ve heard a lot in jazz as well as with experimental bands like Velvet Underground. The intro to “Sweet Jane” transcends the accessible to the experimental. In the early 21st century, Wilco created an identity doing this their own way – often involving guitars and pedals. On “Heavy Metal Drummer”, the cacophony is handled mainly by the drums and synthesizers.

In the cacophony, we catch an audio glimpse of the heavy metal drummer themselves. An innocent, nostalgic and irresistible look back at a summer. Love. Music. And KISS covers. Lots and lots of KISS covers. What’s not to like? “Heavy Metal Drummer” is one of the more accessible tracks off the legendary Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, but that’s not to diminish any of its merits. The lyrics, in particular, are superb. A story that puts you there on the boardwalk under the hot, scorching sun. I can picture it and I feel like I vicariously experienced it.

“SHINY, SHINY PANTS AND BLEACH-BLOND HAIR. A DOUBLE KICK DRUM BY THE RIVER IN THE SUMMER.”

"POT KETTLE BLACK" WILCO (2001)

I started Mental Jukebox nearly three years ago at the beginning of the pandemic. During this time, I’ve discovered new music, rediscovered old favorites and I’ve met passionate music fans around the world. And when things opened up, I kept on blogging. This month, the jukebox goes deeper. The term “deep cut” has multiple meanings. It can refer to lesser known album tracks from well-known artists. It can also refer to tracks from lesser known artists. This month, I’ll be featuring both types. #DeepCutsFeb

The paradox of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’s timing is both chilling and redemptive. Released one week after September 11, 2001, this album flew under the radar for several months. While the world was turned upside down, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot seemed to turn things right side up, but in the experimental Wilco way. It’s regarded as one of the finest albums of the decade. And, like many music fans, it’s my favorite Wilco record hands down. The songwriting, introspective and immersive. The experimentation and the risks, uncompromised. And the melodies, they feel almost effortless. That’s the case with heralded tracks like “Jesus, Etc.”, “Heavy Metal Drummer” and “War On War” as well as with deep cuts like “Pot Kettle Black”.

There’s an immediately familiarity to it thanks to the borrowed riff from The Cure’s “In Between Days”. As a music fan, this never made me angry. Quite the opposite, actually. I’m always happy to hear it. It’s an unexpected surprise that gives the song an endearing quality. Was it intentional? Perhaps Tweedy’s lyrics are an admission: “Every song's a comeback. Every moment's a little bit later.” At the two-minute mark, “Pot Kettle Black” seems to transform into a two-bit video game, grounding the moment in deep nostalgia. Like “Heavy Metal Drummer”, it’s a song that brings you back in its own unique way.

“Every song's a comeback. Every moment's a little bit later.”

"IMPOSSIBLE GERMANY" WILCO (2007)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 23

The Wilco catalog is massive. Part of me wishes I could take a break from work and family responsibilities so I can hide somewhere cool like the inside of an empty theater and play every single Wilco album in full. I hope that I would immerge inspired and convicted to never again solely play Yankee Hotel Foxtrot into the ground again. One of my concert buddies must’ve sensed this tendency in me and took me to see Wilco at the Beacon Theatre in NYC five years ago. The set list contained 29 songs, dipping and ducking into various eras of the band’s work. It was awe-inspiring for sure. It was the first time I heard “Impossible Germany”, and it wouldn’t be the last.

If there’s such a thing as a quintessential Wilco song, this might be it. Mid-tempo, highly melodic, and privy to moments of experimentation. While many Wilco songs contain their characteristic cacophany interludes, “Impossible Germany” took a highly unusual approach to the guitar solo. Nels Cline, on his first album with the band, brought his jazz background to the alt country agenda and surprised us with a minimalist approach. It almost feels like the guitar solo is missing notes at first, but then as we keep listening, we hear, appreciate and are blown away by the build-up.

“With no larger problems that need to be erased. Nothing more important than to know someone's listening. Now I know you'll be listening.”

"OFF THE RECORD" MY MORNING JACKET (2005)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

Over the last twenty years, My Morning Jacket created a world of sounds that I intentionally avoided at first. This was a band that came highly recommended to me in the early 2000s. But the band name didn’t sound like a band name — and it even sounded a little corny. For me, it’s a lesson learned. Never, ever judge a book by its cover. My Morning Jacket is one of the steadiest, most prolific rock bands of the 2000s — and “Off the Record” is a fun, memorable chapter in their existence.

The album Z was a bit of a turning point for the band. New things were happening here, like more synth experiments and genre explorations. “Off the Record” sounds like My Morning Jacket on a holiday to Jamaica. The first three minutes is one part reggae, one part rock and in the spirit of other upbeat rock outfits like Spoon and Modest Mouse. Then the last two and a half minutes go into space rock mode with quiet and quirky synth jams — like the antithesis to Wilco’s cacophony interludes. Brilliant, but far from serious.

“Sorry bout the things that I had to say. And I'll make it up to you right now at the penny arcade.”