Wisely, Wisely (Oglio, 2008)

Willy Wisely’s been soldiering on for over a decade now, and in that duration of bands formed and broken up, solo records released and quietly appreciated, and who knows how many tours, he’s evolved into a mononamed singer-songwriter who kisses his Paul McCartney dreams with nice touches of California pop. You can hear it in “Cracked World View,” where his vocal rides gently into the top of the frame as the music sways with plenty of the downtown LA sound for which Jon Brion and Aimee Mann have become bookends. “Tokyo Arbor,” too, has the sort of jaunty melody Wings-era Paul might have liked to dazzle with. But while it’s just a thing to compare an artist to Macca, it’s the way Wisely’s songs seem to grow right out of the basement they were recorded in. They have a homey feel, just like that early Paul solo material, but that’s tempered with a modernism that’s clearly meant to make this the record that’ll finally get Wisely’s records into the hands of mid-level professionals who buy their records at Starbucks. This might also be why he self-titled a record at this veteran point in his career — in a way, Wisely is his reintroduction.

You can’t make a record this California without including a tribute to the state and its aesthetic, and Wisely does with “California,” which he gets away with rhyming with “I adore ya” and “how come no one warns ya” on the strength of the song’s slick but unpredictable arrangement. There are quieter moments here, too; his first-person vocal is right in your ear on “Nothing but Wind,” which craftily blends moody plunks of piano with weird snippets of backwards guitar, vintage keys, and the sense of driving east into the sunrise. “I’d like, no I’d love to have a writer’s career,” he sings, almost like a conversation on the edge of an argument. “Topping your insults and growing my beard.” It’s the sort of velvety self-reflection that a guy who’s been around this much is allowed. Other album highlights include “Vanilla,” where Wisely’s power-pop background rings out once again, and “Through Any Window,” which returns again to his two main muses, this time around the Paul-ish vocal tinging the song’s promise of sunlight grayer with the suggestion that getting older can even make the prettiest mornings seem a little bleak sometimes. Luckily, this is followed by the effortless and bright closer “I’ll be Singing,” where Wisely sings of the first time he and his main squeeze first made love. The persistence of memory is a value-add to aging. — Johnny Loftus

Tags: Wisely, Willy Wisely, Paul McCartney, Jon Brion, Aimee Mann, Minneapolis, California