I first experienced Wilco live with a sweaty mob of college students at an outdoor venue in Nashville. At the time, their music lived in my heart, and my friends and I joyfully danced and sang along with each familiar melody. One friend called Jeff Tweedy a “sweetie;” another gushingly took his cigarette, offered straight from his mouth. The band from Chicago enchanted us. But since then, my interested has waned, my heart wandering to other, fresher bands.
On Tuesday at the Orpheum Theatre, I wondered, Simon Cowell-style, what kind of band is Wilco? Rock? Folk? Bluegrass? Alt-country Americana? Psychedelic jam band? Try all of the above. They pull it off remarkably, and on this night they reminded me why they hooked me so many years ago, and why they can achieve that rare feat eluding so many bands: an epic concert.
Starting off with their self-referential title track from their self-titled album, Wilco (the band) integrated “Wilco (the Song)” with – what else? – a band intro! The song seems written for that very purpose. Bassist John Stirratt, multi-instrumentalists Nels Cline, Pat Sansone, Mikael Jorgenson, drummer Glenn Kotche, and finally Tweedy all took a bow. The extra-terrestrial lights display included searchlights scanning the crowd periodically, blasting unbearable beams in our eyes as if to stun us into submission. We obeyed.
“You Are My Face” and “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” highlighted the first set of songs, as Tweedy switched from trance-inducing guitar solos to complete breaks from the guitar for the more pensive moments. As Tweedy crooned, “Can’t tell you who I am, when everybody’s feeling all alone,” one could sense the alienation in the room. The lack of chatter among the Orpheum crowd during the softer sections deeply satisfied me - perhaps even made me proud. Later, he crowned us the best audience of the tour, stroking our vanity, but I believed it.
The next set featured “Shot in the Arm,” always popular with the audience, and a personal favorite of mine as the first Wilco song I ever heard. “Company in my Back,” “Handshake Drugs,” and “Impossible Germany” all sparkled and started to slake our thirst for Wilco’s greatest hits. And as the evening wore on, I started to realize that’s exactly what this was: a best of night. “An Evening with Wilco.” The crowd unrelentingly cried out song requests, prompting Tweedy to respond, “We can’t understand you. What it sounds like is you’re asking us to play all of our songs at once.” He paused. “Believe me, there are parts of the show that already sound like that.”
As the concert surpassed two-and-a-half hours, I almost believed they really would play all of their songs at once, so to speak.
Most of the second half of the show was lit by Wilco’s version of house lights – a series of old lamps placed across the stage. Shadows against the back wall replaced the apocalyptic light show. Constantly switching out guitars, Tweedy stayed mostly acoustic and pursued the pervasive theme of loneliness. Everyone sang and clapped along with “Spiders (Kidsmoke)” as if they’d been there before. But Wilco cannot live on loneliness alone. After the defiant love song “You and I,” Tweedy awarded free dinners to two people who had requested songs online (yes, you can do that), as if to say, we’re all about togetherness, too, and we appreciate our fans enough to feed them well.
The last set of songs stretched late into the night, peppered by tambourines, slide guitar, and crazy sonic bridges that sometimes resembled a battle scene with resounding drums and screeching strings. Tweedy sounded best in “War on War” and “Passenger Side,” but passed the mic to the audience for “Jesus, Etc.,” entrusting the song to our collective voices. This was the best moment of the night, and could have ended there as song number 30 on the setlist. But lo, the guitars continued to change hands, and the band pushed on. For weary fans like me (it had been a long day at work), the later songs blurred together. But for the most diehard Wilco fans (everyone else in the crowd) the energy grew with each new song, each a tender bone to chew. Wilco has become known for the epic concert, and their fans eat it up.
Wilco ground themselves in traditional American styles while reaching the furthest musical extremes, singing about ideas and stories everyone cares about. Every song builds with precision to a climax and returns full circle. Perhaps some fans wish they would stick to a straight-up roots style (a la Woody Guthrie), but I admire the way they test the limits. Most importantly, though, they make their fans feel at home. As they sing it, “Wilco will love you, baby.”
Check out some of Wilco’s live concerts here and read more about their Solid Sound Festival at the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art in August.
