Is New Wilco Song The Way Forward Or A Complete Ramshackle?

One odd little sidebar to the digital age has been the rise of the surprise album. The old paradigm of the record company offering a birthday-like expectancy of a release date a couple of months away, which would almost invariably be postponed a couple of weeks before the item actually appeared has been subverted by waking up on a random Tuesday to find anyone - up to and including Beyoncé – has dropped some new product without prior warning.

The splendidly idiosyncratic Wilco then put their own spin on the idea. Originally presented as a kinda anniversary present for the release of their previous album Star Wars, Locater (dBpm/Anti) appeared, at first locatable only by adding yourself to the mailing list, but then revealed as a preview to a whole new full length effort - the splendidly titled Wilco Schmilco - which will likely appear somewhere without warning before it supposed September release. The new song? Well, there’s a churny Krautrock bit, a discordant bit in the middle, and an overall feeling of being suitably ramshackle. Whether this is the way of the new record, or just one way of the typical sprawl of styles you now get on their albums remains to be seen.

But an annual album is still a novelty. If you’re an enthusiast or just an observer of The Laurels ongoing ramble through the brambles of inner-west Sydney, you’ve been waiting about four years for something new. The band has had all the usual distractions of life in-between, including misplacing their drummer and having to find a new one, but with a neatly apt title Reentry (Rice Is Nice) fits well with the program – allowing for the fact they reckon their tour-van listening has apparently been stuff like Gang Starr and GZA. It just seems a bit bigger, although there’s still that feeling of wanting to hide a bit behind and in the music. Potential national living treasure Spod is credited as producer as some found sounds and radio snippets drift past, but those seeking that increasingly ambiguous word ‘psychedelic’ in what they do will probably be satisfied.

There’s something that speaks of #Straya even in Chook Race’s name. Hard To Clean (Trouble In Mind/Tenth Court) is already getting some international notice, but somewhere in its slightly jangly and happily lackadaisical way they still have a spirit of this place about them. Such slacker offhandedness would take some work you’d reckon. If the visuals hint at their dreams, let this be the soundtrack to a late-night infomercial soonest. 

Another perfectly Australian trait is the celebration of the near miss. You gotta love that Mosquito Coast proudly trumpet that they garnered that most coveted spot in relation to that annual Hottest 100 list: that, of course, is coming in at #101. Thusly for the first thing after that singular triumph, they don’t ask for the moon and stars, they simply just make the offer to Let’s Be Friends (Independent). This they manage to express with a nice mix of light and dark, with Naomi’s voice seeming to know what they’re doing and what they might be actually thinking. Which you can now decide for yourself.  

But if some songs are about one place, the blues and the rock and/or roll have always happily embraced railroad imagery, for its feeling of journey and destination – whether uptown or downbound. So, it’s not unreasonable for an artist who loves the history of the song as much as Billy Bragg – and his recent collaborator/producer American singer/songwriter Joe Henry – to consult the timetable and put together an album centred on locomotives and those working, riding, or just watching them go by wishing to be somewhere else. First sample of the project is The L&N Don’t Stop Here Anymore (Cooking Vinyl), one of the downbeat and slightly melancholy end of the oeuvre, which they do with all the sincerity and affection you’d expect. 

And there will almost always be a place for that distinctly English style that almost revels in its misery. Merchandise wear mostly black, and look moodily into the camera to remind you that pop music is serious business, much as everyone from The Cure through Suede to The Editors and a million more troubled man boys. End Of The Week (4AD) adds ideal references like taking inspiration from one of J.G.Ballard’s dystopian short stories, and a theme of ‘finding peace in your loneliness’. Sigh. Such feels. 

From there, it’s a not a million miles to the troubled emotionalism of Eden. He’s Irish, he’s 20, he’s Lorde’s current favourite artist – and speaking of which, when might she do something new? Just asking. But he’s caught in the angst of relationship failure while knowing it was bound to, but not experienced enough to quite know just why. Sex (Astralwerks/Caroline Australia) is modernly synthesised, but with some human rawness and thus ideally suited for angsty bedroom listening while your parents knock on the door asking you to turn it down.

But back in the rock city of Geraldton, there’s more important issues at hand. Skate Or Lie (Pee Records) is punk of the Australian model, and Alex The Kid buzz around you like flies at the beach while you’re trying to have a burger. That’s both that bit annoying and entirely natural. Because of who they are and where they are, there’s a lack of pretence that suits both the approach and the content.