Since the May 2007 release of Sky Blue Sky, Wilco’s sixth proper album, the searing sounds of distorted jazz guitar—courtesy of lead guitarist Nels Cline—have wreaked impressive havoc on the eardrums of the C-VILLE staff. But Cline is only partially to blame for making our heads ring with exquisite racket. The other guilty party is none other than C-VILLE’s publisher, Frank Dubec, who doubles as a drum-and-guitar-loving, jive-talking music fanatic.
An American band: Wilco’s current lineup (clockwise from front and center: Jeff Tweedy, Nels Cline, Mikael Jorgensen, Glenn Kotche, Pat Sansone, John Stirratt) returns to the Charlottesville, intact and ready to rock.
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| More features:
Blue skies ahead On the road (with Wilco) What’s in a Wilco? |
As Wilco’s scheduled gig at the Pavilion draws closer, the record rings louder and louder through the C-VILLE office—a pairing of Cline’s inventive licks and Dubec’s regular outbursts of praise.
Inspired, we felt the best way to gain an understanding of the band in anticipation of their return to town is through a conversation between their most influential musician and C-VILLE’s most energetic fan. Enjoy.
I kind of feel like I know you guys already—Sky Blue Sky feels like you’ve jammed in my living room a few times. Was that sort of connectivity intentional?
Well, the goal was to try to make a record that sounded direct. And I think that, beyond "direct," the word "warm" is also applicable in terms of tone. The repertoire hadn’t been established at that point for sure, but I do know that in the early talking stages of making the record that Jeff Tweedy was hoping to make a record that could be termed more uplifting than previous Wilco records.
I heard that a lot of it was done live.
Yes, it was done in our loft, and I’d say the lion’s share of what you hear are live performances and even live vocals. To get the best acoustic piano sound, Mike [Jorgensen] will usually have to go back and play his parts, but that’s just a technical consideration. If there was a way that we could all feel close to each other and still isolate the piano, we would do it. Unfortunately, that’s not really possible. But seven out of 12 songs are live vocals.
The record seems to kind of sneak up on you.
I’m not sure I can explain it all that adequately except to say that, in terms of coming up with arrangements and even structures, that there are a lot of six-way conversations about how to finish these pieces. I think that the only way I can describe it happening is that people make suggestions and things are tried and then, when we all like it, we stop. Then, if Jeff is happy, ultimately it’s done.
Other than that, there was no premeditation [on Sky Blue Sky] as to how these things would develop or how they would be presented, nor was there any premeditation as to what my contribution would be. I just played along and periodically asked questions or asked for suggestions. More often than not, I’m asked to solo and that’s when I do it. I’m allowed to follow my instincts and at the same time my instincts aren’t always [to] solo.
I put down "Walken" as an example of some choice nuggets. But I noticed the spelling of that song last night and I’m curious—is that some sort of inside dig on Christopher Walken?
The tune was called "Walken." It’s obviously "W-a-l-k-i-n’"…[but] on the lyrics and on our set list since the instigation of the tune, it was always "Walken," after Christopher Walken, ‘cuz we all love him so much. [A]nd it just held. It just carried over.
Do you have any cover songs you’d like to do with Wilco?
We’ve done a lot since I’ve been in the band and, when we played a couple of years ago on New Year’s Eve in Madison Square Garden, we played quite a few cover songs in our set. I think the only one I suggested that we did was "Gut Feeling" by Devo.
It’s not something I think about much. We play "Don’t Fear the Reaper," we play "I Shall Be Released," we play Thunder Clap Newman’s "Something in the Air," which is one of my favorites. But, right now, nothing really comes to mind. I’m sure I suggested something at some point; Jeff and I are always talking about cover songs—he was talking about some Minute Men stuff at one point, which we didn’t do. …Would’ve been nice to do that when we played Los Angeles recently, you know, my hometown, and the Minute Men being one of my favorite bands of all time.
Great. Hey, do you listen to an iPod?
I don’t. I do not.
Well, what’s in your CD player right now?
I think the main recurring listening experience for me has been my obsession with the Indian slide guitar, [particularly] Shawnee slide guitar. I’ve been interested in Indian music since I was a boy. It’s something that feels right for me, and also [seems like] a fairly unattainable mode of expression.
The sad thing about me is that I listen to the same people all the time, as far as bands go. So I’m kind of one-note in that way. I’m always listening to Sonic Youth. Either that, or earlier bands that have always sounded good to me, like the Byrds or Jimi Hendrix.
It’s been fun to hook up with the guys in Wilco because they like a lot of stuff that I didn’t think anybody liked, from my high school years, like the British band Padow. Mike, our keyboardist, his dad was a recording engineer and recorded a lot of what would now be called smooth jazz, like Bob James, so as a result of that he has an awareness of Weather Report. And certainly early Weather Report—just like the ’70s Herbie Hancock—is always kind of in my aesthetic realm. Along with, you know, Miles Davis.
I saw on your website that you list 200 guitarists that changed your life. Who would you like to work with that you haven’t?
That’s kind of an interesting question—I can think of people who I had swift brushes with, but then didn’t play enough with. One of them is a drummer in New York City, Paul Motion—somebody with whom I played very briefly in 1983 but I have amazing regard for. Somebody I haven’t played with since the ’80s is the Argentine bandonian master Dino Palucci. I would love to do more with Dino. But I don’t really spend much time thinking about who I’d like to play with, because my life is so, frankly, filled with remarkable humans.
What kind of influence do you draw, or inspiration rather, from outside of the world of music?
Well, I’m kind of an art guy, although I’ve kind of lost the handle on contemporary art a little—started touring a lot. [A] lot of the artists that I’ve admired my whole life continue to inspire me, like Franz Kline. …[A]nd then, you know, I like really dumb things.
Like what?
I like dumb, silly things. I’m one of those guys that goes into thrift stores and vintage stores and, when I see dumb things that are adorable or hearken back to another era in kind of a very swank way…
Like a great ashtray or something?
Yeah, exactly. Something that’s useful now that was in the mainstream of our world back then. It’s not really nostalgia—nostalgia can be dangerous—but it can also be inspiring to me. I’m not a junk collector, [but] I feel kind of like that, maybe, in my mind.
Do the guys in Wilco hang out much outside of the project?
No, not really. I live in Los Angeles, guys live in Chicago, Mike lives in Brooklyn—we tend to just work when we’re working and play elsewhere. That said, if I lived in Chicago, I have a feeling I wouldn’t see everybody all that much because I sense that these guys don’t see each other that much when I’m not there. And I know that, in Jeff’s case, time with his family is precious.
John [Stirratt], our bass player, is a new father. That time that he’s away from his family, his little girl is growing up in leaps and bounds ’cause she’s so small. So he’s, I’m sure, constantly trying to make up for
lost time when he goes home. With that said, I’ve had many a delightful backyard barbecue at John and Chrissy’s house—had some of my favorite Chicago experiences in his backyard. I find that, from my years of touring in different capacities, it’s very swanky with Wilco…
Sometimes it’s the jazz tour of Europe, which is all train stations. Or it’s the van tour, such as with Mike Watt or the Nels Cline Singers, my own trio of singers. I find that, no matter what the mode of touring is, after four weeks you kind of don’t even remember you live anywhere. So I’m grateful for the fact that, at this point in my life, I’ve been able to avoid tours that go that long.
