No matter how hard we try to push the idea of keeping an open mind, it's a myth.  I don't need to tell you this.  It's bullshit.  Expectations and predispositions are part of being human.  And they're guided by past experiences.  When something veers off the path of your expectations, more often than not it's a letdown.  A big, crappy letdown.   

Let's just get it out of the way.  I'm a Wilco fan.  Have been for a long time.  I think they're maybe the best American band in the past 25 years.  But, even great bands have peaks and valleys, and Wilco's last record and tour was a little stale and gimmicky.  It felt like a concession.  A resignation.  Though the suits were excellent.  

What I'm trying to say here is that while Wilco live is always great, the prospect that they are going to continue to push the envelope really wasn' t there anymore.  Not that that really matters.  Hell, I'd be happy if they came out and played A.M. front to back.  But there's always going to be an important difference between being loved and being relevant.    

After a White Denim opener (missed it...bummer), Wilco opened softly with the slow burn of "One Sunday Morning".  And then 5 of the next 7 songs were...loud.  Dissonant.  Chaotic.  Dark.  Unexpected.  "Poor Places" tailed off into at least 20 seconds of blaring white noise.  The bleeps and blips of "Art of Almost" gave way to jagged, splitting guitars.  "Bull Black Nova" chugged into an unsettling groove.   "At Least That's What You Said" drove the point home: this isn't (necessarily) your older brother's Wilco.  It was a pretty clear message from a band that doesn't seem done exploring after all.  

Oh yeah, and the rest of the show was good too.  For all of Jeff Tweedy's strengths, sometimes it gets lost in the shuffle that he is a fantastic pop songwriter.  I mean, that clever bastard can write a hook.  The band charged through some of the new poppier material ("Dawned On Me"; "The Whole Love") with typical veteran expertise.  And Nels Cline's solo on "Impossible Germany" is still one of the prettiest things you'll hear at a rock & roll show.  

Going into last night, I was ready to appreciate Wilco for what they were.  Ready to ride off into the sunset with them on a few more albums of mellow contentment.  OK with having to reminisce back to when this was an exciting and original band.  Ready to pass the torch on to bands like My Morning Jacket and The National.  But, well...fuckin' a.  Wilco snuck up on me again.  

One of the best things about music is being pleasantly surprised.  Sometimes your expectations are wrong and you don't end up crestfallen.  You just have to keep an open mind.

Check out "Art of Almost" from earlier in this tour...

The Avetts do a nearly impossible thing.  They manage to write earnest and honest songs without coming across as cheesy.  That's not easy and not something you can underestimate.  A mustachioed gentleman I know once said, "The Avett Brothers write great songs about being a young man."  Couldn't have put it better myself.

This one's from their Mignonette record and young men should listen up and listen good.   

It's been medically proven that The Band can cure the holiday blues. There are not a lot of albums that I'd call perfect, but Big Pink is one of them.  There's a lot that can be said about this record, but needless conversation isn't what Sunday mornings are all about.  Just listen and let your problems melt away.

Back next week for the pre-Xmas push.  Will Christmas in the Heart be discussed?  Likely.  

Listen to Big Pink in its entirety below.  You're welcome.  Happy Sunday all.

Some marriages work and some don't.  It all depends on the dynamic, really.  A great man once said that relationships are about filling gaps.  Bringing out some of the better qualities and pulling back the reins on some others.  A Go Go was the first collaboration between Scofield and Medeski, Martin & Wood and man did they hit it off from the start.  

MMW has always been great but has a tendency to drop off the deep end for long stretches in between flashes of brilliance.  Scofield has had a long and good career, but like a lot of jazzmen, can stray a little too far from home (drum 'n bass albums were bad idea, Sco).  

With A Go Go, MMW keeps Scofield on the jazz-funk beaten path while Sco keeps MMW from 15-minute spats of stoned wandering.  It's also another shred of proof for the case for Billy Martin being maybe the best drummer of his generation.  The guy is an absolute machine.  Great album.  

Check out the clip below from the Estival Jazz in 2007.  

Miles Division: Sco and Miles came together for a three-album run in the early eighties.  One of these albums, You're Under Arrest, was once described to me by a buddy as "the shittiest record ever put out by great musicians", which is pretty much the exact opposite of A Go Go.  Not sure what that means, but it feels like we just came full circle in some way.

Honorable Mentions: Scott Weiland - 12 Bar Blues; Outkast - Aquemini

First off, apologies for not coming through with a post-Thanksgiving Sunday Morning Session as promised.  It was ready, and I was ready.  And it is a good one.  But, I was sidetracked.  Such is life with a newborn.  For the half dozen of you who tune in, I will make it up to you.    

Release Date: October 24, 2011
Label: Anti-

Tom Waits can be intimidating.  I mean, his shit is dense.  Sometimes listening to a Waits album is like reading a confusing but satisfying book.  You don't fully understand the message, but it's been intentionally left open so you can form your own individual impressions.  Art that's meant to allow for participation from the observer.  

Bad As Me is no exception and it continues Waits' explorations of the bitter and the sweet, though rarely at the same time.  The angry turns range from the sad and matter-of-fact in "Face to the Highway" to the jittery accusations in the title track "Bad as Me".  "Talking at the Same Time" has the feeling of creepy paranoia that's tough to describe (Waitsian?).  "Kiss Me" is the great smoky noirish piano bar tune that Waits can drop on you at any time.  On the sunnier side of the street, "Back in the Crowd" is the best Roy Orbison cover you'll hear this year.  "Satisfied" is an aggressive declaration of Wait's pre-death intentions.  Or maybe it's just a tongue-in-cheek rocker.  

Look, I'm not going to pretend to understand the exact message that Waits is trying to convey with Bad As Me, but I don't think that's the idea with this record or TW in general.  Again, we'll leave that to dickheads like Rob Sheffield, who are too caught up in themselves to admit that maybe something isn't meant to be perfectly understood.  

I will say that Waits has been consistently interesting for over 30 years and shows no signs of slowing down.  Really the only person you can compare him to is Bob Dylan.  And you probably won't hear any greater compliment in this humble column.

Happy Thanksgiving all.  Here's a tune for those of you traveling back to where you once belonged...

Devendra Banhart's a weird guy.  But he's slowly coming back to the middle.  This one's from his latest album,  and...wait...oh shit...is that Marshall Tucker Band?  Nope, it's your friendly neighborhood freak-folker.

I was on the fence until I saw Devendra's cover of Townes Van Zandt's 
"Colorado Girl" awhile back on the great documentary "Be Here to Love Me" (more on that later). 

We're taking a break for the rest of the week.  Tune in Sunday for the latest post-holiday edition of SMS.

Release Date: October 11, 2011
Label: Capitol

There's a My Morning Jacket song that has nothing to do with Ryan Adams.  I suppose you could say that no MMJ songs have anything to with Ryan Adams, but that's not the point.  The MMJ lyric I have in mind is, "they told me not to smoke drugs, but I didn't listen...I guess I just had to get it outta my system".  Most people, I think, can relate to that.  Adams is sober now, and has been for his past few records.  But that's not the point either.  

When you get right down to it, Ryan Adams has always been capable of knocking your socks off with a great song.  But he's also almost always had a few head-scratchers on each record (there are a few early exceptions - see Heartbreaker; see also Gold).  Even some of his more enjoyable stuff with his erstwhile backing band The Cardinals was more or less Grateful Dead American Beauty covers.  The point of this endless set-up diatribe is that Ashes & Fire finally marries that clarity that comes with sobriety to the focus of a consistently great original songwriter.  Which is to say that it's a really good country-rock record with flashes of brilliance that's long overdue.

Adams has always been better when he's understated, and he seems to have dialed himself back a bit intentionally for this one.  The title track "Ashes & Fire" is the high point and is one of the best country songs you'll hear this year.  When he belts lyrics like "the wind was suddenly sweeter than Roosevelt pines / the windows broke out and the cigarette smoke drifted by" over open chords and those great country drums, you can't help but smile.  "Invisible Riverside" is a soulful wanderer's tune that dances in and out of jamband territory (in a good way).  "Dirty Rain" sounds a little bit like he's striving for a polished Big Pink sound.

For a relatively young guy, Adams has put out 13 records and seems to have put a lot of miles on an already weary soul.  It hasn't always been great.  But maybe he just had to get all of that out of his system.  If Ashes & Fire is the shape of things to come, it'll all be worth it. 

Had LC gotten off of its dead ass and put together a 'best of' list for 2010, Deerhunter's Halcyon Digest would have probably come in at #1.  Not exactly the most original choice for a rock & roll blog (this record was a music geek fave), but it really doesn't matter.  That's not Deerhunter's fault.  Really a great and fantastically confusing album.  

This lyric's off of "Desire Lines" and the song sounds like the feeling of plowing down the freeway at 100 mph.  In the opposite direction of all of your problems, that is.    

Have a listen below.  Cheers to Brooklyn Vegan for the excellent shot of Bradford Cox in action (top left). 

Sometimes the blues just need you.  

Muddy Waters is one of those guys...without Muddy...are the blues the blues?  I'm not sure that question can be answered (well, maybe by good ol' Keef). 

Regardless, Sunday morning is a good time to ponder such age-old dilemmas.  That's if you can push last week out of your mind and let next week's potential sit for a few more hours.  Let the excellent "Live at Mr. Kelly's" from 1971 get you in the right frame of mind this morning.  Muddy won't let you down.  We'll find that Sunday in-the-moment clarity together.  Have a listen to the full set below.  

Sometimes you just need the blues.

Timing is critical.  Sometimes it's the only thing that really matters.  The most amazing thing about Buena Vista Social Club is that these great old Cuban musicians were finally brought together in the twilights of their careers to make this incredible record.  Ibrahim Ferrer's voice still blows me away every time I listen to this album.  

BVSC almost never happened.  Thank God for Ry Cooder for bringing them together and doing it right.  Check out the fantastic PBS documentary for the full story.

Don't forget to tune into latest installment of Sunday Morning Sessions after the weekend.

Miles Division: BVSC is more jazz than anything else.  I guess.

Honorable Mentions:  Radiohead - OK Computer; DJ Cam - Mad Blunted Jazz