Tickle Your Taint Eclectic Music Reviews: Wilco- Wilco (The Album)

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Saturday, June 12, 2010

Wilco- Wilco (The Album)

(Nonesuch Records, 2009)

http://www.wilcoworld.net/

Reviewed by SoDak

Not too long ago, I was in Chicago O’Hare International Airport. After a long flight, a mighty dump was imminent. Much to my surprise, in the men’s bathroom, I confronted a high-tech toilet. The seat was covered in plastic. A button triggered a mechanism that was supposed to rotate the covering, so clean, fresh plastic would cover the seat, while the previously sat on material would collect inside the contraption on the back of the seat. No more paper covers for the toilet. I can imagine critics marveling at this technology, praising the innovation in the water closet. Each part of the modern toilet was finely constructed, working together to create something special for restrooms—a sterile environment.

But not everything works as smoothly as engineers would like. I noticed that the plastic was slightly bunched up at one end. The previous occupant was kind enough to piss all over the plastic. In addition to this, pieces of shit were scattered on the covering. Preferring different seating, I stepped out of the stall. The other two doors were closed, leaving me with no option. I returned to the mess, pressed the button. New plastic emerged from the right, but the collection on the left malfunctioned. The plastic continued to bunch, folding in on itself in various ways, creating a bigger mess. The piss was spread all over and dripped from the edges. The shit smeared on the actual toilet as the motor continued to try to pull the plastic through the slot into the collection device. With increasing internal pressure mounting, I watched my predicament go from bad to worse. I feared that I would not be able to walk to another bathroom without a brown incident.

I stood there, in place, contemplating how often things do not work out. A band may be comprised of amazing musicians, but together produce music that does not excite me. Record after record, I faithfully return, hoping that something will. I seem to be alone here, as the applause, like this malfunctioning toilet is deafening. But when it doesn’t work, and is covered in piss and shit, I must finally decide to walk away—from this stall covered in feces. As I clenched and prepared for my trek to find sweet release, an empty chorus ran through my head: “Oh, oh, oh, oh, Wilco, Wilco, Wilco will love you baby.”