Warm

What materializes is a confounding collection of literary mastery, intertwined with sparse, albeit flummoxing instrumental compositions--tender acoustic and slide-guitar arrangements, adroitly managed bursts of noise, and a rhythm section that puts the movements of life into a neat, cohesive order.

It’s the work of a seasoned songwriter proving that he’s as good at penning powerful, personal songs in a traditional vein as he is layering records with bells and whistles.

As the lovelorn ‘From Far Away’ floats by, desolate and broken, haunted by the ghosts of art-rock guitars and phantom electronics, it’s clear that Jeff Tweedy still isn’t comfortable on well-trodden roads and that Warm has moments that upend Americana as beautifully as ‘Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’ did with US indie rock. One to let simmer.

In its own quiet way, Warm is one of the most powerful works of Tweedy's career, and it's the sort of music too many of us need today.

Is the exchange of restless turmoil for quietly focused introspection a worthwhile trade? Depends. For Wilco fans who never really got over the big hooks and sonic clamor of Summerteeth, probably not. For listeners who have taken pleasure in Tweedy’s continuing evolution, WARM is akin to a gift.