Start here. That’s what I’m now able to tell people who ask for an entry point into the avant-jazz that constitutes a large part of my music consumption. Suggesting Nels Cline’s new album Consentrik Quartet is an ideal gateway for beginners isn’t intended as an insult. A sturdy bridge between uncompromising indie-rock and skronky free jazz, Consentrik Quartet will almost certainly stand as one of the most consequential albums of 2025. It doesn’t hurt that it possesses the caché of the Blue Note Records imprint. Furthermore, Cline is already known as Wilco’s freaky guitarist. When I heard saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock and drummer Tom Rainey perform in 2014 I never imagined they’d play with the relatively conventional finesse they display on "Down Close". Bassist Chris Lightcap connects the two realms on tracks like "The 23". The second step for neophytes is more imposing. Released the same day at Consentrik Quartet, the Erik Satie-influenced dissonance Sylvie Courvoisier and Mary Halvorson showcase on the brilliant Bone Bells is going to be a tougher sell.
Album Review: Wilco- Cruel Country
I've had more or less the same conversation with innumerable Deadheads during the past 40 years. Deadhead: “Do you like the Dead?” Me: “No, not really.” Deadhead: “You obviously never went to a concert.” Me: “Yes, I did.” Deadhead: “But… but…” Me: “I’ll grant you this- I love American Beauty.” The Grateful Dead’s 1970 album is loaded with smart, concise folk-rock shuffles. So is Cruel Country. Wilco’s twelfth studio album sounds like a loving tribute to American Beauty. The sound, atmosphere and intent of the two albums are strikingly similar. A handful of Cruel Country songs may one day become as universally beloved as American Beauty classics like “Friend of the Devil,” “Ripple” and “Truckin’.” Cruel Country is the miracle Deadheads didn’t know they needed.