From the first seconds of ‘Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’ there is a sense of unease. As the ominous, woozy noises straighten themselves out into something resembling a song and the hypnotic, shuffling drumbeat busts through we find ourselves listening intently. When Jeff TweedyÔÇÖs bruised vocals utter the now iconic line: ÔÇÿI am an American aquarium drinker; I assassin down the avenueÔÇÖ we feel we know exactly what he means.
Generally regarded as WilcoÔÇÖs masterpiece, ‘Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’, released in 2002, helped a broken America cope in a post 9/11 world. Recorded during the dawn of the 21st century Wilco were able to capture the defining characteristic of our age, something that offered people comfort in the wake of those terrible attacks and still resonates with people today, perhaps even more strongly. This is an album for the era of mass communication and dwindling human connection; as we hide behind our words, our devices and our social media personas. It takes us through a varied collection of sounds and songs: a wistful memory of a simpler time, a pitiful attempt to console a partner, a singers lament at his own lack of confidence. These songs combine to form a whole greater than the sum of its parts, and sound infinitely better when listened to together. Essentially, the album is about the signals we send out in the hope someone will understand, or at least hear us.
On the first listen Yankee Hotel Foxtrot can seem jarring and inaccessible, but beneath the layers of feedback and abstract noise is a warm, intimate and optimistic album with a simple message – ItÔÇÖs difficult to say what we really mean, but we should never stop trying to be understood.
Joe Morgan
@boringwelshy