James Jackson Toth has a tattoo on his wrist that reads “WWNYD.” The “NY” stands for Neil Young, whom Toth has personally elevated to “the status of Jesus Christ,” as he said in a recent assessment of Young’s discography. In that same piece, Toth asserted that Young “made a career of being consistently inconsistent.” That sounds familiar: Grayson Currin noted that “longtime fans of Wooden Wand forsook consistency long ago” when reviewing Toth’s last record under the name Wooden Wand, Blood Oaths of the New Blues, and in Brent Sirota’s press notes for Wooden Wand & the World War IV, he says Toth’s work is so varied that “you might have lost track of Wooden Wand some years back.” It seems Toth has adopted Young’s mercurial approach to writing songs, assembling bands, and releasing records.
So it’s ironic that the most Neil Young-sounding album in the Wooden Wand discography comes during one of the most consistent stretches of Toth’s career. He’s worked with the same group for three straight albums—finally giving them a name, The World War IV, on this one—and all three are solid additions to his oeuvre. Actually, Blood Oaths is much more than just solid, one of the best albums of Toth’s career in any guise. Wooden Wand & the World War IV isn’t on that level, but it’s quite good, partially because it picks one tack and sticks with it. In other words, it’s consistent.
That consistency is as about tone as it is about sound. Every track here is comfortably low-key, exuding a calm aura that doesn’t scream for attention–in fact, Toth rarely raises his voice. But he and comrades Dave Hickox and Jody Nelson do raise their guitars at times, locking into ascending solos that expand each track, adding to the casual, unfettered atmosphere. That’s when Neil Young and Crazy Horse echo loudest, in the way that their music often feels as much like loose jams as written songs.
Loose isn’t the best way to describe Wooden Wand & the World War IV, though. Its songs are modest and contained, never feeling like they last too long. But often it seems we’re getting small glimpses of bigger journeys. In fact, Toth wrote only one song fully (the slow, country-ish “Our Father the Monster”) before the album was recorded. The rest grew from riffs written by the World War IV to which Toth added melodies and lyrics. The result feels a bit like what might happen if Young and Crazy Horse sliced up the great jam they posted on their website in early 2012 and rounded the results into individual songs.
The best songs on Wooden Wand & the World War IV combine easy power with an undercurrent of tension. On “Directions to Debbie Harry’s House”, tension comes from the push of Janet Elizabeth Simpson’s bass, as well as the way her accompanying vocals accent Toth’s lead. The urgency of “I Hate the Nightlife” arrives in Toth’s searing mid-song solo, an instant rival to Young’s more fiery forays. There’s even some suspense in the breezy “Complaint Dept.", whose simple swing feels like it could blow in the wind forever. But the more I listen, the more immediate it feels, pushing forward with a vital pulse.
If there’s a drawback to Wooden Wand & the World IV, it’s that the songs take time to sink in, and none are instant classics. For me, that’s a strength: this record isn’t about peaks and valleys but steadiness, and a such there’s not a dull moment to be found. If you’re new to Toth’s work and looking to be quickly blown away, don’t start here. But keep some space open on your shelf, because if you get hooked by any other Wooden Wand record, it’ll likely lead you to Wooden Wand & the World War IV.
