​Wilco just wants to have fun

Surprise release of “Star Wars” finds band at their loosest

Have we our Great American Rock Band? Have we ever laid claim to such a thing? The Beatles, the Stones, Zep, all imports. Sure, we gave the world Elvis, but the solo thing doesn’t really apply here. The designation is a weighty one, but before such pompous institutions as the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame or Rolling Stone misguidedly try to bestow it upon Bon Jovi, I’m going to pass the crown to Wilco.

Now, “Star Wars,” the band’s 11th studio LP, is not the Great American Rock Album. And that’s okay. “Star Wars” is the sound of Wilco past and present. The lowballing album comes off as admirable and is sure to inspire a sloppy combination of sing-alonging and air guitar-slinging in even the most casual listener, but it best serves as a reminder of why Wilco – a band entering its third decade – has remained unshakably relevant, even after several daring stylistic overhauls.

The key to understanding the album is in its method of delivery. With no advance warning whatsoever, Wilco dropped the album as a free download on their website, sparing even the Radiohead-esque option to “pay what you want.” In an acknowledging statement the next day, the band offered up a list of their favorite new albums, encouraging fans to reroute their money toward releases from Steve Gunn, William Tyler and Landlady, among others. The album’s lack of a price tag, as well as its head-scratchingly contradicting title and cover art, frame it as a charmingly casual, though necessary, addition to the Wilco canon.

In case that setup wasn’t enough for you, the discordant minute of opening track “EKG” ought to solidify the tone of the remaining album. Jarring and angular, the track is a sheep in wolf’s clothing, feigning a sinister sound that’s playful at heart. The remaining 32 minutes – the album is their swiftest by a stretch – are guitar-heavy garage door-rattlers, steeped in Jeff Tweedy’s typically fragmented lyricism and effortless songwriting. While there aren’t any real duds, it’s easy to hear which songs got the most attention in the studio. “Random Name Generator” is the obvious gunner for lead single, its twin guitars cockily riffing over the ballooning, phased drums on a steady climb toward a euphoric climax. The band’s obligatory country numbers shine, too, as heard on “The Joke Explained,” its dusty lope recalling the twisted twang that they built their name on.

Though Wilco’s latter-day output and elder-statesmen status have led to misguided cries of “dad rock,” it’s hard to fault a band that has so consistently and winningly challenged itself for taking it easy this time around. If this is Wilco at its loosest, that’s saying a hell of a lot for its existing legacy. Now if I could just figure out where to send my ballot.

Recommended Tracks: “Random Name Generator,” “Pickled Ginger,” “More…”

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