Cory Wong – Lost in the Wonder
There is a moment on “Tongue Tied”, around thirty seconds after the beginning, when a keyboard riff floats upward that will immediately make any self-respecting music lover think of “Digital Love” by Daft Punk. It is a bold, shimmering nod to the past, and it tells you everything you need to know about the direction Cory Wong takes with “Lost in the Wonder”. The GRAMMY-nominated guitarist from Minneapolis, best known for his razor-sharp rhythm guitar work with Vulfpeck and The Fearless Flyers, has taken a decisive step away from the instrumental funk workouts that established his reputation. In their place comes a full-blooded pop record, twelve tracks of slick, collaborative songwriting craft that position Wong less as a guitar hero and more as a contemporary Quincy Jones, the architect behind the glass building glittering sonic worlds for a rotating cast of vocalists.
“There are many sides to me as an artist,” Wong has said about the record. “A lot of people know me as a guitarist, or more specifically as a rhythm guitarist. That is true, but it does not tell the whole story.” He is right, and “Lost in the Wonder” makes his case convincingly. The album opens with “Stay With Me”, featuring Stephen Day on vocals, and immediately establishes the aesthetic of the record: punchy horn arrangements reminiscent of city pop at its most exuberant, a tight rhythm section that never overplays, and Wong’s guitar sitting comfortably in the mix rather than dominating it. A slick saxophone solo closes the track, and you realise that this is going to be a different kind of Cory Wong album.
The production is impeccable from start to finish. Wong served as executive producer and mixed the entire record with engineer John Fields. The musical palette is consistently rendered warm, polished and radio-ready. “Better Than This”, featuring Cody Fry, opens with a pounding bass line that flirts with house music territory before Wong’s signature funk riff slices through the mix like a warm knife. “Blame It On The Moon”, featuring Magic City Hippies, is pure jazzy disco, the horn section firing on all cylinders, the bass line practically begging you to move. These are the moments when the album truly catches fire: Wong’s instinct for groove married to pop structures that give his playing a broader canvas.
The guest list reads like a who’s who of contemporary vocal talent, and the results are predictably varied. The two collaborations with Stephen Day rank among the strongest material here, Day’s voice possessing an effortless warmth that beautifully complements Wong’s arrangements. Theo Katzman, Wong’s bandmate in Vulfpeck, delivers the emotional centrepiece of the album with “Lisa Never Wanted To Be Famous”, a masterful soul ballad that begins with only piano before the rhythm section gently slips in. It is the most patient, the most mature track Wong has ever produced, and it benefits enormously from Joe Dart’s understated bass work and Benjamin Jaffe’s delicate flute. The closing track “From Now On”, featuring Louis Cato, Nate Smith on drums and harmonica from Cy Leo, wraps the album in a gospel-tinged embrace that is genuinely moving.
Where the record stumbles is in the first half, which rushes by almost too quickly. Several tracks run under three and a half minutes, and just as you settle into a groove, just as Wong really begins to let loose on guitar, the song fades or stops. “The Big Payoff”, featuring Ellis, is the exception: a five-and-a-half-minute slow burn that would be the perfect soundtrack for a late-night drive along the Miami coastline. The remaining collaborations with Ellis feel less integrated, as if Wong has pasted indie pop vocals onto fully formed funk compositions without truly allowing the two styles to merge. “All Night, Alright”, featuring Taylor Hanson, slips into kitsch, a retro funk pastiche in which the vocals reach for romantic urgency but land somewhere closer to karaoke.
Fellow reviewers are quick to draw comparisons with “Can’t Stop the Feeling” by Justin Timberlake, and that is a fair observation. There are moments when the super polished disco pop sheen threatens to sand away the raw musicality that makes Wong so compelling live. His legendary Wong chops, those percussive, syncopated rhythm guitar jabs, are present but often tucked into the mix, serving the song rather than stealing the show. For loyal fans who came for the virtuosity, this may feel like a concession. For the broader audience Wong is clearly courting, it is exactly the right move.
The second half of the album is where “Lost in the Wonder” truly finds itself. The longer tracks breathe, the collaborations deepen, and Wong’s guitar playing becomes more expressive and daring. “Roses Fade”, featuring Devon Gilfillian, is a soulful five-minute journey that showcases Wong’s arranging skills at their best, trumpet, flugelhorn and guitar weaving together in a tapestry that Stevie Wonder would approve of. The title track, featuring Dutch artist Benny Sings, is fresh and dreamy, a mid-tempo meditation that fully justifies the album’s name.
“Lost in the Wonder” is not the record that will satisfy every corner of Wong’s fanbase, nor does it need to be. It is the sound of a musician who has spent years proving he can play anything and now proves he can build anything. At forty, Wong embraces large-scale pop craftsmanship, and although the results are occasionally too polished for their own good, the ambition is unmistakable. If you appreciate what Nile Rodgers did for Diana Ross and David Bowie, or what Pharrell brought during the Neptunes era, there is much here to admire. Wong may have swapped his guitar hero cape for the producer’s chair, but the groove, as always, remains irresistible. (7/10) (Roundwound Media, LLC.)
