
Let's pretend for a moment that
The Whole Love, the eighth studio album by accomplished rock collective
Wilco, was actually two EPs, one of which we will call
The Whole Love Above and the other of which we will call
The Whole Love Below. If this were the case, I would say that
The Whole Love Above was an out-and-out winner, loaded with infectious bass lines, experimental instrumentation, masterful songcraft, and ferocious yet nimble guitar work. On the other hand, I would be forced to say that
The Whole Love Below was...a bit of a dud. However, as it stands, the piece is one full album, an uneven one that struggles to find a cohesive sound and frustratingly chooses to keep cycling back to spare guitar balladry when everything of value is clearly in the churning musicianship of its first half.
Four of the first six songs are stellar. Album opener
"Art of Almost" starts with a crunchy, Krautrocky repetitious drum beat and a boatload of noodly synth, and concludes with a spectacular surge of guitar violence by reliable ax man Nels Cline. The thrill continues with
"I Might," an instantly hummable classic that thrives on 60s surf rock keys, tweaked-out fuzz guitar, and a tremendously vibrant-sounding Jeff Tweedy, who is joined by the boys toward the conclusion for a cooing vocal harmony. Also standing out are
"Dawned on Me," which features more distorted guitar, a tremendous chorus, and an uproarious closing that includes thunder drums, wailing keys, and some off-kilter whistling for effect. Finally, the band wraps up the first half of the album with
"Born Alone," which showcases the band's way underrated rhythm section of John Stirratt and Glenn Kotche. The two combine to create a groove that leaves the listener literally salivating to hear the song in concert.