Applying thirty-year hindsight to Tom Petty’s Wildflowers (released 11/1/94) inevitably considers the archival projects devoted to the title in more recent years. Each, in its own way—and as an all-encompassing archival effort—illuminates how and why this record became such an object of devotion for the late lamented artist.
Wildflowers may or may not be the late Florida native’s most famous album–that designation goes to the more commercially successful Full Moon Fever–but by all accounts, including his own, it was the record closest to his heart. And it’s a testament to that depth of affection and the comparably empathetic approach of those curating his archives. Dissection of the music from this period affords invaluable insight into the music rather than diffusing its short-term and long-term impact.
During his final interview with the Los Angeles Times, as the triumphant 40th-anniversary tour with The Heartbreakers was coming to an end in 2017, Petty announced that his next big focus would be to finally revisit this 1994 long-player co-produced with Rick Rubin and Mike Campbell. Such an enterprise would elucidate how these efforts changed Petty’s creative life as a recording artist, artistic collaborator, and bandleader.
While in retrospect (including much of the artist’s own) it has come to be seen as Tom’s most acutely personal album, its generally metaphorical approach really works effectively only in the form of the title song: the quiet, reflective acoustic intimacy is Petty’s single most poetic composition in a line of original songs spanning roughly forty years of recording.
Taking the form of three ambitious archiving projects, the resurrection of Wildflowers was a long time coming but fully in keeping with the late bandleader’s concert as mentioned above plans. Yet it’s also telling that Petty had always intended to release the second half of the album—a collection he named All The Rest–featuring songs that were left off the original version, like the readily transparent “Confusion Wheel” plus five other unreleased tracks.
In addition, different versions of four other songs composed around this period would eventually appear on the soundtrack to the 1996 film She’s The One. A compendium of that content, reconfigured in 2021 as Angel Dream, reaffirms its continuity within Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ overall discography. With no repeats of tracks or instrumental incidental film music, it is a full-fledged album by a core of players in transition: Ringo Starr is one of four drummers, along with Curt Bisquera, who appears here in addition to co-founder Stan Lynch, not to mention the man who would eventually supplant the latter in the Heartbreakers, namely Steve Ferrone, one of the Average White Band.
Those four preclude the monotony that afflicted Wildflowers (in particular, “You Don’t Know How It Feels”). And it includes not only original material but also some choice covers by Lucinda Williams (“Change the Locks”), JJ Cale (“Thirteen Days”), and Beck (“Asshole”, “Angel Dream”) is a tightly interwoven forty-two minutes that allows ample room for the bandleader to bare his soul and let it rock alternately.
Beginning with the sweet, intimate tones of the title song—ultimately bookending the album on a similar note with its instrumental corollary “French Disconnection” (both of which echo the namesake cut of Wildflowers)—this record radiates an unabashedly confessional air from the very start, not to mention a palpable sense of camaraderie between the bandleader and the rest of the musicians.
Issued a year before this title, Wildflowers & All The Rest stands as a massive curating endeavor combining efforts of family, bandmates, and collaborators. Featuring a wealth of previously unheard content–the significance of which has become readily apparent over time, rendering redundant David Fricke’s essay in The Deluxe Edition–fifteen recordings Petty made in his home studio during the writing process demonstrate his commitment to the overall continuum of the project.
Recorded on various tours from 1995 to 2017, fourteen live performances of songs from Wildflowers, most notable amongst which are “Wake Up Time” and “Time To Move On,” illustrate how the material was growing and evolving over time. In addition, this juxtaposition of content tacitly reaffirms the wisdom of these various exhumations from the vault (not to mention Tom’s notion of focused live shows).
Arguably superior to the longplayer released in 1994, Finding Wildflowers (Alternate Versions), was initially included with the 2020 Super Deluxe Edition of Wildflowers & All the Rest, then released separately a year later. Like the comprehensive 1995 Playback box set of six CDs (perhaps not coincidentally issued the year after the watershed effort at the heart of these vault endeavors), this single compact disc consists of alternate takes, extended arrangements, and improvised renditions of familiar songs such as “It’s Good To Be King.”
Accordingly, such tracks as that and a twelve-string guitar-dominated “You Wreck Me” provide dramatic insight into Petty’s meticulous approach to this material in the company of kindred spirits, including (eventually) the entire band and Rubin. In place of the overly careful air permeating Wildflowers in its original form, however, this conglomeration of music manifests a loose, off-the-cuff air, much like the other twelve-track aggregate.
The logic behind this sequencing is readily discernible in its ebb-and-flow of intensity. As such, Finding Wildflowers sounds like one prolonged burst of inspiration coming to fruition in real time, totally bereft of the self-consciousness that hampered the fifteen-cut record as issued. In this context, there’s little question about some more healthy detachment in the early nineties. Writing and recording would have benefitted the album as initially issued.
A twenty-five-cut double set Petty and Rubin originally envisioned was waylaid by the Warner Bros. label. Consequently, with the further hindsight of three decades since the actual milestone, hearing the triad of archive titles inevitably elicits even more mixed emotions. But even as these packages, in sum, represent a grand ambition left unfulfilled before the unexpected death of Tom Petty, their very existence provides indispensable insight into the creative process.
In the end, that element may be the most enduring in the quintessential American rocker’s legacy.
