June 18, 2007
Wilco brings A game, low doesn’t play my favorite song.
long night in short form: not on list-on list- no ticket- ticket (thanks Dania/Mikael Jorgensen /Ray)- kid from bloomington telling me about when he used to shoot for pitchfork- grab a beer and wait on a couch.
oh yea- i was at the Murat Center for a Wilco show.
i didnt know low was opening for wilco’s north american tour. happy suprise. they played no songs from secret name (my fave) but showed the kind of mature restraint only a few three-piece slow core bands can. well, ok, only the kind low can show. Alan Sparhawk displays an intuitive genius in his choice of simplistic chords for sad pop songs, whilst only a minute later pulling a blazing, echoing solo from nowhere/the pedals at his feet. too many wilco fans talked and talked and talked over music that apparently did not command enough attention to quiet the crowd. but by the end of the 35 minute set more than a few in the crowd gave them a deserved and noticed standing ovation. then people went outside to smoke and drink beer.
let me dissapoint the reader by saying that what i can write about when it comes to wilco is limited. i knew of them forever ago, i thought the songs on Summerteeth were ‘nice’ but it wasnt my thing. then yankee hotel foxtrot comes out and im floored. then I am trying to break your heart comes out and i see that a girl i went to highschool with edidted the entire movie.
then i find myself going out with a woman whos brother is the then newest member of the band. the band invaded my life at the right time. then pow pow pow, album after album of new sounds, members, and a touring schedule that would kill the toughest of hardcore bands. these guys bring their A game every night.
Jeff Tweedy is incredible. his understated swagger commands attention, but hey, if you don’t play along he doesn’t care.
Glenn Kotche is an incredible animal behind his ‘tractor trailer’ kit and the playfulness he displayed with everyone in the band (throwing towels and only stick twirling on command) rubbed off on the crowd. Seriously, i had a guy in my row getting waaaaay crunk to Jesus Etc., pogoing and always wanting to go dance in the aisle. thats cool man, but make up your mind. the shows going on for another HOUR, just do it already.
hell. i wanted to give Nels Cline a hug all night simply for SHREDDING! lemme tell ya - that guy can play, but he can also finish a solo with the same kind of magic as seeing someone pull a rabbit out of their hat, only every single time you dont see it coming.
John Stirratt’s only problem of the night besides a volume problem that lasted all of two extra measures into Handshake Drugs, was that he had too much damn energy. Bass players are supposed to stand there and maybe sing backup on a song they brought to practice or something, not act like youre having the time of your life. but he does and that what he is good at. and playing bass too.
oh, and the newest guy, Pat Sansone, can play a pretty honkytonkin’ piano solo. not as good as Jorgensen, but Pat has the preset 60s soul moog, so leave him be.
drafting easily through albums and singles and songs and moods, Wilco could very well be the best contemporary American Rock Band playing today, or for that matter, the last five years. they dont sell out stadiums, but they do sell albums doing whatever they want to do; alt-country, american rock, post-prog jam outs, soul-pop. gladly, i matters to them and that kind of care and love for their Art can only translate to a crowd via electricity and speakers. and Stan “the man on the Pan” Doty, their engineer.
thanks: brian@rockitbomb.com, kyle @ livenation, Ray, Dania, Mikeal, & mike kaufman for not showing up.
