Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide

Under the guidance of producer Rick Rubin, Tom Petty turns in a stripped-down, subtle record with Wildflowers. Coming after two albums of Jeff Lynne-directed bombast, the very sound of the record is refreshing; Petty sounds relaxed and confident. Most of the songs are small gems, but a few are a little too laid-back, almost reaching the point of carelessness. Nevertheless, the finest songs here ("Wildflowers," "You Don't Know How It Feels," "It's Good to Be King," and several others) match the quality of his best material, making Wildflowers one of Petty's most distinctive and best albums.

 Geoffrey Himes, Amazon.com

As you listen to Wildflowers, Tom Petty's first new album in three years and his first ever for Warner Bros., you may be struck by a certain quality, new for Petty but nonetheless familiar. The predominance of the twangy rhythm guitar; the high-pitched, nasal singing; the irresistibly catchy pop hooks; and the melancholy lyrics straining for a spiritual significance just beyond their grasp--all these elements make Petty sound as if he were a Beatle imitating Bob Dylan. Then you may realize that Wildflowers resembles nothing so much as a George Harrison solo album. That's not such a bad thing; Harrison (Petty's old bandmate in the Traveling Wilburys) has a knack for giving moody spiritualism a pop tunefulness. It's just that Harrison on his own is a second-tier rock & roll figure whose best work is long behind him, and that's pretty much the case with Petty as well. Only with appropriately reduced expectations can one enjoy Wildflowers for what it is.                                 

Personnel: Tom Petty (vocals, acoustic & electric guitars, harmonica, piano, organ, bass); Michael Kamen (conductor); Carl Wilson (vocals); Mike Campbell (acoustic & electric guitars, sitar, harpsichord, bass); Marty Rifkin (pedal steel guitar); Jim Horn, Brandon Fields, Gary Herbig, Kim Hutchcroft (saxophone); Benmont Tench (acoustic & electric pianos, organ, harmonium, Mellotron); Howie Epstein (bass, background vocals); John Pierce (bass); Steve Ferrone, Ringo Starr (drums); Lenny Castro, Phil Jones (percussion). Producers: Rick Rubin, Tom Petty, Mike Campbell. Engineers: Jim Scott, David Bianco, Richard Dodd. Recorded at Sound City and Ocean Way Recording, Los Angeles, California.

"You Don't Know How It Feels" won a 1996 Grammy Award for Best Male Rock Vocal Performance. WILDFLOWERS won a 1996 Grammy for Best Engineered Album, Non-Classical. WILDFLOWERS was also nominated for Best Rock Album. It is hard to believe that Tom Petty first stepped onto the rock & roll carousel eighteen years ago. Hard to believe because the best moments of his sizable catalog--the perfect guitar pop of "American Girl," the faux-psychedelia of "Don't Come Around Here No More," the sharp-tongued putdowns like "Century City" and "Zombie Zoo"--have all developed a rare timeless quality. A quality that few, if any, of his contemporaries (Eddie Money, the Cars, etc.) were able to achieve. Harder, still, because in the course of his long career we've never noticed Petty gettin' on in years or becoming an anachronism. So it is somehow appropriate that on WILDFLOWERS, his second "solo" ride without the full complement of the Heartbreakers, Petty's musings fall predominantly toward his current role in the world. Throughout these reflections Tom Petty plays the kid's game he's been good at for years ("but let me get to the point, let's roll another joint" he sneers knowingly in "You Don't Know How It Feels"). More often than not, the future the songwriter envisions for himself is full of doubts ("Time To Move On") and soon-to-be-dull memories ("Don't Fade On Me"). This makes WILDFLOWERS speak in a far more subdued and wistful tone than most Petty records, creating a darker self-conscious persona. Tom Petty understands that he's far too established to keep playing a rebellious, one-dimensional rock & roll singer. On WILDFLOWERS he attempts to ground this understanding in a purposeful existence.

Steve Ciabattoni, CMJ New Music First

Wildflowers is Tom Petty's best record in years; it's certainly his least commercial and most heartfelt. His first album for Warner Bros. (after a career's worth on MCA) captures the vibe that's attracted the likes of Bob Dylan, George Harrison and Roy Orbison to Petty's side. With Rick Rubin thankfully replacing Jeff Lynne in the producer chair, Petty sounds as comfortable as a man can get in the studio, leaning on his acoustic side far more than he did on past efforts. While Petty's fans include album oriented rockers across the country, Wildflowers stands toe-to-toe with the likes of the Jayhawks and Alejandro Escovedo in its warm presence and six-string splendor. We'll be listening to these tracks again: "Only A Broken Heart," "It's Good To Be King," "Honey Bee," and the title track.

Dianon Moody, Pop Matters

Tom Petty, Roaches, and the WWF

It was the summer of 1995. The setting: Rancho Cucamonga, California, home to inordinate amounts of collected smog and several quality Carl's Jr. and Del Taco restaurants. Three college buddies and myself were only days into our job hocking pest control to half-naked retired men in Palm Springs and had already learned to say "spiders, ants and cockroaches" in Spanish. We were set up in a posh two-bedroom condo, with a wide array of hot tubs to choose from each evening and a wee little exercise room to boot. Within the complex, bikini-clad womenfolk tanning by the pool served as eye candy and, once night fell, we had HBO and consistent Beavis and Butthead Moron-a-thons on the tube. The lap of luxury was there for the sitting as we looked forward to bronzed tans, easy California women and making fat wads of dough in four months' time. All was well.

My first mistake was lending Scott my copy of Tom Petty's Wildflowers. It was one of many lapses of judgment on my part, but one I dreaded over and throughout the summer months. He could only claim one other CD as his, the reggae-tinged Mr. Labah-Labah himself, Shaggy's Boombastic. Every morning, without fail, Dave and I were subject to either a cranked "In the Summertime", "You Don't Know How It Feels" or the sound of yelling coming from the other bedroom, which he shared with his very large brother.*

*(A sidenote: This was before WWF's Smackdown seeped into the heads of the TV-watching mainstream, mind you. My roommate and I listened with sick fascination to the two of them scream obscenities while taking turns hurling one another across the room like human shot puts. There were no fake punches. No trampolines to break their falls. No menacing face paint to speak of. Much more entertaining than anything Hulk Hogan could pull off.)

It was all I could do to clamber to my own stereo system to blast any album I could get my hands on to drown it out (unless they were doing some of that high intensity wrestling I spoke of, which had us clambering to our walk-in closet, ears pressed to the walls like excited voyeurs). But that was then, this is now. While anything Shaggy still makes me wince, I remain a faithful stalwart of Tom Petty. He is one musician I have such a high amount of faith in, I purchase his albums as they are released, sometimes without hearing so much as a song off them beforehand. And, while the critics foamed at the mouth over "Full Moon Fever", I hold my ground when I proclaim Wildflowers to be his strongest album out there.

Not because it's modeled after those vinyl records of yesteryear, with a "Side 1" on its golden top to boot. Not because it's got all the words to all the songs printed in its liner notes, leaving no question in the mind of his groupies (c'mon, he's got to have at least a couple!) as to what he's singing. It's the music. Good music. Songs that could have been emblazoned all over the radio, but hedged on the song that could have been a Grateful Dead epic, the lightly countrified, drug-friendly ditty "You Don't Know How It Feels". If you haven't heard it on the radio, you've heard it played at a NBA game during a time-out.

Nobody knows just where to place Tom, largely because he doesn't look the part of the airbrushed musician (suppose he ever hangs out with Elvis Costello or Barry Manilow?). He still looks like the shaggy, blonde-haired boy who once worked the graveyard shift in a . . . graveyard. While he writes all of his own songs and consistently makes good albums -- both with and sans Heartbreakers -- it seems his ho-hum, aw-shucks type personality and look cause him to be passed by the wayside almost regularly.

Anybody care to pass on to the mainstream that he's not going away?

Wildflowers, while criticized as being uneven and even a bit on the produced-sounding side of things, is a fun album, one that is gleefully scattered across the board. Every one of its tracks -- save the somber "Wake Up Time" perhaps -- could rest comfortably among the peanut shells of a seedy bar, whether its customers see fit to wear cowboy hats or Birkenstocks.

Petty's oddly pleasing, nasally voice transcends across folk, pop, country, and blues -- kinda like Dylan does if you're one for comparing. While delivering his almost-expected light folk rock fare, barely skipping along -- "Wildflowers", "Time to Move On", "Don't Fade on Me" -- his ripping blues are each welcome surprises. I could have sworn "Honey Bee" was a '60s blues cover the first time I heard it but, alas, 'tis a creation of his own. It putters along like an easier-on-the-ears, guitar-heavy Thorogood number.

She like to call me king bee
she like to buzz 'round my tree
I call her honey bee
I'm a man in a trance
I'm a boy in short pants
When I see my honey bee
You almost wonder if Petty ever cracks up while he's writing his songs. I'd bet on it.

Some songs are just too good not to have been discovered by the public, but they seem likely to stay that way. The ballads "Only a Broken Heart" and "To Find a Friend" are both gems, both facing unlucky-in-love subjects with a smile. And, hey, you have got to give Petty credit for the latter -- Ringo Starr shows up to play drums on it, though he never reappears throughout the rest of the album. Way to give an out-of-work Brit a job there, Tommy.

"You Wreck Me" and "A Higher Place" also rank high on listenability. Petty is at the top of his game, but even he knows his place in the grand scheme of the music world, evident in the chorus of "It's Good to Be King". When he sings "Yeah, the world would swing if I were king / Can I help it if I still dream time to time," you can't help but think he's singing from his own experience.

I skipped town a month before my contract was up in the grand Inland Empire. I'd met one girl the entire summer, I had an impressive farmer tan and I fell way short of making my expected $40,000. With $400 in my pocket and my two bags stuffed in the back of a friend's truck, I headed back to Utah and breathed a sigh of relief. Even played Wildflowers on the way back, no doubt leaving Scott's brother subjected to all things "boombastic" for the remainder of the summer. And leaving was the best idea I'd had in three months.

© Frank Steven Groen