There's still a crustiness to Weller - he'll get sensitive, but he won't get sappy - but there's an openness to 22 Dreams, in how he eases into a Curtis Mayfield homage as comfortably as he pays tribute to Alice Coltrane with Robert Wyatt in tow. In some ways, it's the flip of the piledriving As Is Now, where Weller indulged in harder inclinations, as this finds Weller exploring his softer side, often in ways he hasn't quite done before. Instead, 22 Dreams has a floating romantic quality that justifies the dreams of the title, drifting from sound to sound, sometimes taking elaborate detours, sometimes stopping for a brief picturesque sideshow. Tempting though this may be, especially given the record's elastic, elegant eclecticism, this isn't quite a self-conscious summation, nor is it quite a risk-taking tour de force in the vein of The White Album, even though this encompasses everything from fragile folk to the resurrection of the sophisticated collegiate jazz of the Style Council. Weller's embrace of rock & roll tradition might suggest that he has taken his double album as an opportunity to offer a summation of his career, to summarize where he's been and perhaps where he's going. 22 Dreams rectifies that wrong, offering a luxurious sprawl that's proudly, staunchly classicist, just like Weller's solo career itself. Of all the many things Paul Weller has done in his career, he has somehow managed to survive three decades without a double album to his credit.
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