Its been over a year since weve heard anything new from Wilco, but frontman Jeff Tweedy has a knack for finding other ways to keep his name in the news. The Chicago-bred singer-songwriter is currently preparing for the third Solid Sound Festival, set to touch down at the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art this June, with performances by Neko Case, Yo La Tengo, Reggie Watts, and more. He’s also kept busy by handling production on Lows tenth studio LP, The Invisible Way, which hit stores earlier this week. Quality aside, it serves as the latest reminder that Tweedy’s never intended for his legacy to begin and end with Wilco. For further evidence, weve compiled a list of Tweedys proudest career works not to come from his main gig.
Photography by Heather Kaplan.
15. “Hey Chicken” – Loose Fur
Born Again in the U.S.A., 2006
Jeff Tweedys Loose Fur project came together shortly after the release of Wilcos 1999 LP Summerteeth, when he got a one-off opportunity to collaborate with Jim ORourke, who would introduce him to his friend Glenn Kotche. They eventually became the two other key players of Wilcos avant-garde years during the front half of the aughts, after they discovered the range of sonic ground they covered as a trio. Hey Chicken, the leadoff track on their second of two albums, is a prime example of the teeth that Loose Fur could bring when they werent indulging in nine-minute structured tweakouts or muffled epics.
14. “The Family Gardener” – The Minus 5
Down with Wilco, 2003
You could argue that The Family Gardener is technically a Wilco song considering the whole band, not just Tweedy, was featured on Down with Wilco, if you hadnt guessed. But The Minus 5, the Scott McCaughey-headed rock collective, is still the albums primary artist, so well say that the ornately textured psych-folk standout number qualifies; Tweedys only lead vocal contribution on Down with Wilco remains one of the best songs hes surrendered to a band that wasnt his own.
13. “The Long Cut” – Uncle Tupelo
Anodyne, 1993
If things had gone a little differently, The Long Cut could have been the last the music world ever heard from Tweedy his legacy, even. The most single-fit cut (which is actually pretty short at 3:20) off Uncle Tupelos final album also led to the bands first and only network television appearance when they performed it on Late Night with Conan OBrien in February of 1994. Tensions between Tweedy and Jay Farrar had already rendered the band terminally damaged by that point and its even obvious from the video which of the two officially pulled the plug but The Long Cut shows they sure didnt break up out of a lack of forward momentum, creatively or commercially.
12. “Wanted” – Loose Fur
Born Again in the U.S.A., 2006
When I say shes a rapist / That really isnt what I mean. Helluva first impression right there, but planted at the end of an album that also includes a cheeky deconstruction of the Ten Commandments and a sunny, whistle-along character portrait of a crackhead, its relatively pedestrian. Thats exactly the kind of what the fuck brazenness that Loose Fur was made for, and combined with one of Tweedy, ORourke, and Kotches most inviting arrangements, Wanted is exactly the kind of awesomely incongruous pop that only could come out of those three.
11. “Acuff-Rose” – Uncle Tupelo
Anodyne, 1993
The competition of egos that brewed between Tweedy and Jay Farrar and would ultimately kill Uncle Tupelo at the height of their success caused a lot of pain and anxiety all around, but it definitely didnt cause their work to suffer quite the opposite. Whereas the whole band claimed songwriting credits on their first two albums, Farrar and Tweedy split the songwriting on the last two right down the middle, and you can practically hear the two exchanging blows right off the bat on the first six minutes of Anodyne: Tweedy counters one of Farrars best songs ever, Slate, with one of his own, this spirited tribute to the legendary Nashville songwriting duo Acuff-Rose.
10. “Listen Joe” – Golden Smog
Another Fine Day, 2006
Tweedy goes back decades with Jayhawks frontman Gary Louris, who was a fellow alt-country trendsetter in the early 90s and once called Tweedy one of the few people I am envious of as a writer.” They also belong to a collective of similar-minded songwriters called Golden Smog and have co-written a number of songs including Listen Joe, the highlight of the supergroups third LP and last to feature Tweedy. One of two entries on this list where he doesnt sing lead, Listen Joe falls much closer to a hushed, extra ominous spin on House of the Rising Sun than country, alternative, or any combination of those words.
9. “Wreckroom” – Loose Fur
Born Again in the U.S.A., 2006
Just about everything Tweedy has put out since Wilcos A Ghost Is Born in 2004, musically speaking, has been more reflective of the rehabilitated optimist he became after its release instead of the unhinged addict he often came off as in the few years prior. Not Wreckroom though. Wreckroom is out there. Tweedys proggiest piece of his career takes the shape of six or seven different wild animals in its eight and a half minutes the chipmunk-to-mammoth transition on a dime at 3:15 is especially feral though the whispering piano gallop that opens it couldnt be more misleading.
8. “Radio King” – Golden Smog
Down by the Old Mainstream, 1995
Wilco was in its infancy when Tweedy co-penned Radio King to close out Golden Smogs first formal LP, which takes its title from this warm tribute. A.M. was settling into critical indifference and Being There was still a few months away, which means Radio King was once arguably the best song hed ever written for any project. He was also young enough to tap into the starry-eyed idol-worship of his teen years, recalling romanticized fascination with bygone-era musicians whose legends had decayed to the point of larger-than-life mythos. Your music fills my car / And your voice breaks every time/ Im still wondering if I know who you are / I hang on every line, he sings, and its a sentiment that anyone whos ever wished for five minutes of face-time with a mysterious hero can relate to. Also, he liked that down by the old mainstream line so much, Wilco plagiarized it.
7. “Gun” – Uncle Tupelo
Still Feel Gone, 1991
It all began with Gun for Tweedy. The first unequivocally great song he ever wrote sparked a dynamic shift in Uncle Tupelo, where his perceived role switched from the less talented number two to the equally capable co-frontman, which in turn marked the beginning of the end for them, which in turn birthed Wilco. Gun leads off their 1991 breakthrough sophomore LP Still Feel Gone with a kiss-off to an ex and a rumbling intro that explodes into jangly, hooky sonority spilling over with what would become the defining sounds of 90s guitar rock.
6. “New Madrid” – Uncle Tupelo
Anodyne, 1993
New Madrid, Missouri is a city just opposite the Mississippi from Tweedys hometown of Belleville, Illinois, and the site of a major seismic zone that brought on earthquakes of historic magnitudes in 1811 and received attention again in 1990 when the climatologist Iben Browning predicted more were imminent (they werent). Given his track record of drawing from Midwestern history for inspiration during his Tupelo days, it makes sense that Tweedy would find potential in that. But he did one better and spun it into one of his finest songs, injecting a flawless country melody with heartbreaking imagery of the disaster that never was: Brownings frightening forecast, news trucks rolling in from across the country, and a young lover taken away too soon.
5.”Black Eye” – Uncle Tupelo
March 16-20, 1992, 1992
After their bottle-smashing country-grunge affair Still Feel Gone, Uncle Tupelo pulled a contentious about-face with the acoustic, cover-heavy March 16-20, 1992, the best album theyd ever make but one they knew would stunt their fanbases then-booming growth. It was okay, though, because Peter Buck had their back. The R.E.M. co-founder jumped on board as producer after being impressed at a show by an obscure cover and coached them through March by assigning listening homework regularly. Combining that with Farrar and Tweedys obsessive record-collecting history, and the two had internalized so much traditional country and folk by that point that it started to emit from them naturally Tweedys Black Eye being the perfect example. A short narrative about a guy who suffers a black eye evolves into commentary on the emptiness of battle scar pride: When he realized that this one was here to stay / He took down all the mirrors in the hallway / And thought only of his younger face. Tweedy could probably write the book on the harsh comedown of disillusionment upon finally achieving cool, but fortunately, he writes songs instead.
4. “You Are Not Alone” – Mavis Staples
You Are Not Alone, 2010
As Greg Kot wrote in the opening to his 2004 Wilco biography Learning How to Die, Tweedy learned to be a great listener before he became a great songwriter and musician. That skill ended up being more than just his segue into making music; it also led to a second, middle-age career of reigniting the profiles of older and/or underappreciated artists whose music hed held dear as a young rock snob a list that now includes Nick Lowe, Bill Fay, and the one with whom it started three years ago, Mavis Staples. Riding on the back of this soulful title track which could only have been written by a Staples family historian, if not a Staples family member her 2010 LP reinserted her name into the conversation much louder than anyone expected, and also introduced her to scores of younger fans with no small thanks to Tweedys name being attached as producer.
3. “Sandusky” – Uncle Tupelo
March 16-20, 1992, 1992
March 16-20, 1992 had its fair share of detractors who couldnt stomach songs about physical labor evoking the Depression era from rural hipsters. Its appreciators, though, know its not really an authenticity thing, but in how the albums thickly woven, nearly-100% acoustic arrangements so beautifully mirror the idea of American Elbow Grease the band set out to capture, the way that every single plucked string is given extra weight. Likewise, the album’s centerpiece is neither a traditional or a Farrar or Tweedy solo cut; the song that really holds down March is the penultimate Sandusky, an instrumental co-written by the two. Every instrument that comprises the albums rustic backbone acoustic guitar, banjo, the resounding clicks of Mike Heidorns tiny drum kit, and the same mandolin made famous by Losing My Religion one year prior fuse together systematically like assembly workers bringing some industrial product to fruition. Its anyones guess what some lyrics matching the quality of those throughout the album could have turned this song into, but whats certain is those who wrote off March as juvenile class-tourism have nothing on Sandusky.
2. “Laminated Cat” – Loose Fur
Loose Fur, 2002
The best cut off either Loose Fur album actually originated as a Wilco song, a prospect for Yankee Hotel Foxtrot under the working title Not for the Season. It wound up on its cutting room floor largely because Wilco couldnt decide on its shape, which is generally a symptom of two things: an album with broad sonic boundaries, and a pop song so golden that the pressure to make it perfect wins out. Did Tweedy get it right with Laminated Cat? Or by downsizing the song’s personnel to just himself, O’Rourke, and Kotche? Maybe it certainly worked about as well as a charged up, lung-straining demo as it does here, a Xanax-buzzing sprawl. But if a 12-year-old B-side is good enough to remain a regular on Wilco setlists including the two-song performance they delivered for Jimmy Fallons audience last July in the wake of their latest album its probably safe to say its one of the strongest songs they (n)ever made.
1.”Please Tell My Brother” – Golden Smog
Weird Tales, 1998
In 1998, Tweedy was neck deep into his Woody Guthrie obsession, one that would probably conquer any musician bestowed with permission from Nora Guthrie to put music to notebooks full of his unused lyrics. There must be something painfully humbling about combing through one songwriters scraps and finding gold over and over in pieces such as California Stars and Remember the Mountain Bed, but Tweedy managed to score at least one back with Please Tell My Brother, which surely had Guthrie posthumously kicking himself for not penning. One acoustic guitar, two minutes, and four verses on homesickness and the tolls of the touring life make for comprehensive proof that for all of Tweedys studio accomplishments, hed be nowhere without his capacity for folk perfection chords and melodies that instantly register in the ear as familiar yet are unmistakably his own. And it’s no pastiche: He addresses his brothers, sister, and parents directly, as if that were the only way to truly prove honesty and remorse. In his career, Tweedy has crafted heaps of unclassifiable material capable of transporting his listeners to outer space or further, but it all started with his ability to transport them to the back of a dark bus thousands of miles from Southern Illinois.