After straying into their alt-country roots with last year’s Cruel Country, it’s time for Wilco to get back to what they arguably do best. The Chicago band’s 13th album marks the first time they have worked with an outside producer in more than a decade, with Welsh musician and producer Cate Le Bon behind the desk.
Her influence is immediately audible on opener Infinite Surprise, its tremulous, offbeat warble setting the tone for what’s to come.
Le Bon brings some much-needed peculiarity to Wilco’s sound; although frontman Jeff Tweedy has always pitched himself as the perennial outsider, this is the antithesis of the “dadrock” label that has dogged them over the years.
In fact, this is Wilco’s most progressive album in years, dappled with a sumptuous melancholic hue that drapes itself over songs such as Ten Dead and the sombre, minor chord swoon of Levee. Tweedy trifles with rhythm on the folky canter of A Bowl and a Pudding and the wistful gallop of Meant to Be; the forlorn elegance of Evicted is totally beguiling, and the languid slant into atonal experimentation on Pittsburgh is excellent.
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The title track is probably the most recognisably Wilco-esque song here, its restless beat leaving room for all players to shine, while the inclusion of brass on several tracks is befitting of these subtly unconventional songs. Like with most Wilco albums, the more you listen to Cousin, the more the full splendour of both Tweedy’s lyrics and the band’s exquisite musicianship is revealed.
