In the forward to Jeff Tweedy’s latest solo release, Twilight Override, the alt-folk prophet speaks of his art with such intensity, likening the God-like act of creating to a snapping maw, chomping away at the pervasive darkness.
Darkness. It’s something to which our souls have recently been forced to adjust, coerced into wearing our ennui and discontent like a scratchy second skin as this existence we once knew takes on a different, still-mutating shape. In an effort to combat such malaise – to overwhelm the overwhelming right back, as he says – the Wilco frontman has wielded his art against the inky black in the hopes that some light will be let in.
The result is Twilight Override, a 30-song triple album meant to represent a not-so distant but nearly unrecognizable past, a present that feels more like a nightmare, and a future pregnant with all that is still possible. The whole idea sounds wonderfully sentimental and hopeful; maybe a little uncomfortable but a necessary voyage through life as we know it now.
