NELS CLINE may be best known for his often spectacular lead guitar stylings in WILCO, but he’s been a leading figure in avant-garde jazz and rock for almost three decades. As it’s a true solo album, you’d think the curiously titled Coward would be a self-indulgent mess so out of bounds as to be playing a different game altogether. You’d be wrong, though – Coward is some of Cline’s most accessible work outside of his day job. With arrangements that revolve around repetitive but melodic acoustic guitar figures (someone’s been listening to James Blackshaw, apparently) moving across lush electric sustain and feedback, these songs invite you into the parlor, rather than dare you to cross the threshold. This being Cline, there’s definitely a (welcome) skronk factor, whether it’s the flurry of free notes behind the fingerpicked harmonics of “Rod Poole’s Gradual Ascent to Heaven,” the scraping grunge of “Seedcaster” or the squealing nod to fellow traveler THURSTON MOORE in “Thurston Country.” For the most part, though, tunes like “Cymbidium,” “The Androgyne” and “Prayer Wheel” convey mysterious beauty, rather than barely controlled fury. For a dedicated avant-gardist like Cline, that’s far more courageous than giving into his noisier instincts. Coward? Not a chance.
