Jeff Tweedy “Twilight Override”

One of the founding fathers of americana music delivers a magnum opus for our times.

Well, suppose you find that music is a distraction from difficult times. In that case, the current state of the world has clearly provided a huge motivation for Jeff Tweedy to write, as he releases a triple album of songs nearly five years after his last solo album. Faced with a societal doom loop and struggling with ‘a bottomless basket of overwhelming rock bottom’ “Twilight Override” is a monumental effort to “overwhelm it (the darkness ) right back”.

Tweedy has always been a prolific artist and a formidable instigator and mainstay of what we know and love as americana. This will be his 24^th album in various guises, most of which came from the Grammy-winning band Wilco, but which have also included his later solo outings; his formative years with one of the true genre-creating groups, Uncle Tupelo, whose debut album “No Depression”, released in 1990 when Tweedy was 22, effectively gave the go-to name for what became americana and to the notable music magazine. This followed several years playing with the equally influential Jay Farrar in bands that were the forerunners to Uncle Tupelo.

He’s been a creative record producer over the years as well as a writer, and plays acoustic and electric guitar, bass, drums and occasional piano. His new album was produced at his home studio The Loft, with the help of sons Spencer and Sammy on drums and keyboards/synths respectively, Liam Kazar on bass, and his wife Sima Cunningham (lovely vocals), and Macie Stewart (vocals and very effective violin) from the band FINOM, with James Elkington on guitar – a formidable line up of talent.

There is no denying the bona fide quality of Tweedy’s music, nor the quantity of his output, and he has put a lot of thought into releasing three albums’ worth of material in one triple album, a desire to “engulf the encroaching nighttime (nightmare) of the soul” as he envisions his country in the twilight of an empire and feels the need to “grow my heart to meet this moment”, and to grow it he needs to produce something expansive, such as a triple album, rather than trickle his thoughts out over a series of albums. And according to his comments in a recent issue of Mojo magazine, he doesn’t much care if people think it is too much (it was even whittled down from 5!).

So, over the 30 tracks, what do you get?  Five singles have already been released from the album and, it has to be said, on first listen, they are possibly the cream of the crop.  The first listen is a challenging one, largely because of a perceived sameness about the instrumentation, tone, Tweedy’s voice, and the pacing of the tracks. It needs several listens to bring out the highlights of some excellent instrumental and vocal backing, to dissect Tweedy’s often cryptic lyrics and to pick up on some of the more interesting changes of pace. The singles were a nice mix; however with ‘One Tiny Flower’ sounding a bit mantra-like with the constant repetition of the title over its 6-minute length. ‘Out in the Dark‘ is a nice, catchy track with some wordless la la vocals in the background, ‘Stray Cats in Spain‘ is a largely acoustic reminiscence of time spent there when The Stray Cats were performing, and ‘Enough‘ is a loose rocker with a nice guitar riff and 60s vibe (as have one or two other tracks).  ‘Feel Free‘ is possibly the centrepiece of the album, a slow seven minutes of exploring ways to find self -liberation, that has apparently featured prominently in his recent live shows.

There are elements of Wilco for fans of that band with fuzzy guitars and quasi-psychedelic sounds at the end of a few tracks. There are references to 60s/70s (‘Better Song’ has a short riff straight out of The Beatles’ ‘Norwegian Wood’, ‘Blank Baby’ has some magical harmonies reminiscent of The Beach Boys).  The female harmonies are impressive throughout – ‘No One’s Movin On’ is a good example as they deliver wordless vocals over a steady rumbling bass line before Tweedy lets loose with a distorted electric solo.

Overall the album doesn’t grab you like a Wilco album might have done, but it is no doubt a strong statement of trying to keep your head above water in the face of the all-encompassing madness, without being overtly political. It explores memories from the past and more than occasionally hits the spot about overcoming the darkness and doing the best you can – the title track, a catchy electric guitar driven song makes the point “I’ll need to find a new past / You were sweet, you signed my cast / Now I see clear because / I was not where I thought I was / Override / Override / Override / Override / Twilight”.

Talking of guitars, Tweedy’s acoustic dominates the instrumentation throughout, while his electric plays some lovely parts although the distorted, fuzzed up parts are perhaps not quite so in tune with the overall feel of the album, which is largely slow, reflective and acoustic. The synths waft lovingly in the background for the most part and give substance to the overall sound whilst leaving Tweedy’s guitar work to shine, and there are occasional lovely interjections of tinkling piano courtesy of Sima Cunningham, particularly on ‘Saddest Eyes‘, where Tweedy takes a potshot in the opening line – “The world keeps coming apart / And no one knows where to start”. Another veiled statement is the song ‘Amar Bharati’, about an Indian ascetic who has held his right hand up above his head for several decades in a plea for world peace. The album signs off with by far the most accessible song on the album, the aforementioned ‘Enough‘, with 60s jangling guitars and a great ‘Waterloo Sunset-like‘ riff underpinning the song – “Has it ever been enough? / Has it ever been OK? / Have you ever felt full / At the end of a day?”

It is inevitable that there will be filler over a 30-track album and some of the songs meander and don’t really lead very far. Diehard fans will probably seek positives in every track but there are some clear highlights, some mentioned earlier in the narrative, but others including ‘Love is for Love’ (an enigmatic song with matchless acoustic guitar), ‘Sign of Life’ (a partly-spoken country swing with heavenly choir and sullen violin) or the introspective ‘Ain’t it a Shame’ (lovely acoustic guitar again) are likely to find favour. The overall production puts Tweedy’s emotional but slightly reedy voice front and centre, where at times he sounds like Ryan Adams, but he is supported by layers of some glorious overlaid guitars and satisfying swathes of synths, some rock-solid drumming and gorgeous background and harmony vocals.

There is much to enjoy, as Tweedy shares memories of his past, shows concerns about the present, and shares hope for the future. With so much put into this venture, it might be a while before we see much more from this giant of the genre so, take your time, don’t expect too much from a first listen, because repeated plays will no doubt reward you handsomely.