Live Music: Wilco

We ventured into the wilds of Philadelphia this weekend to see Wilco at the Tower Theater. This was my birthday present to DJo -- Wilco is the only band she's interested in seeing live, and this is the fourth or fifth time we've seen them (plus one Jeff Tweedy solo show). Since we had to bail on her birthday dinner last weekend thanks to a sick kid, we went out beforehand as well (to Valanni, home of Medi-Latin tapas. No energy for a full review, but it was excellent).

The kids? Oh, we left them somewhere in New Jersey, in the capable hands of DJo's aunt, uncle, and three tween/teen girls. I don't think Vivi's feet hit the ground for the entire weekend.

We were able to take public transit to both the restaurant and the concert, which was very nice. Philly doesn't have the most complete subway system, but the restaurant was block from one stop and the the theater was right near a terminal, so, easy-peasy. We took the PATCO speed line home and were snug in our beds by 12:30 (more on that later).

This was the first time we'd seen Wilco in a theater. After several shows at the Fillmore, and one awesome (though sparsely-attended) show at 4th & B in San Diego, it was strange to have a seat to sit in. We ended up standing for the whole show anyway, but it was much more constrained than usual. Unfortunately that didn't totally prevent a small contingent of shroom-dropping yahoos from invading other people's personal space in the name of "the show, man." I swear, once Phish broke up, the crowds at Wilco shows have been getting more and more annoying (more on that later, too).

Jeff and the boys

The band was, as usual, extremely tight. The addition of Nels Cline (and Pat Sansone) a few years back has really changed their sound. The changes started on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and continued on A Ghost Is Born, but bringing Cline on for the subsequent tour and the recording of Sky Blue Sky made the transformation complete. I saw these guys referred to as "the American Radiohead" not long ago. I think that's overstating things (and I say that as a huge Wilco fan) but I understand where the sentiment comes from. I can't think of another band which has evolved so completely, and successfully, as these guys. In that respect I think they do compare favorably with a band like Radiohead.

Anyway, back to the show. We sat down in time to hear opener John Doe do his last three songs, and I have to say I was disappointed. Apparently he did some X songs during the set, and I would have loved to hear that. What I heard instead was a guy sort of playing out the string, playing uninspired roots-rock. And, to top it off, he has a woman singing with him with a faded copy of Exene's voice. I mean, I guess it's good that he realizes that he needs someone like that to act as a counterpoint, but it just made me sad I never got a chance to see X.

Wilco opened their set with one song from Being There ("Sunken Treasure") and three of the Woody Guthrie Songs that they recorded with Billy Bragg ("Remember the Mountain Bed," "Airline to Heaven," and "Hesitating Beauty"), and then everything else they played was from the last four albums until the encore, which was the new single ("I Hate It Here"), a classic two-fer from Being There ("Red Eyed & Blue" and "I Got You (At the End of the Century)," which used to open shows) and one last Woody song ("Hoodoo Voodoo"). It was a little disappointing to hear nothing from AM (no "Passenger Side," for God's sake!) and so little from Being There, but it was a pleasure to watch Cline and Sansone play. It's really a completely different band than I started seeing in the late 90s -- it is often hard to believe that this is the same band that did "I Must Be High" and "Box Full of Letters" -- and I think it's a testament to Jeff Tweedy that he's been able to explore new musical styles, and bring new fans to the band, without completely alienating long-time fans.

I had only two small complaints about the evening. The first was the length of the show. Wilco went on promptly at 9:00 (yay!) and the house lights came up at 11:05 (boo!). It's a little strange to be complaining about a two-hour show but I'm used to some real marathons from these guys, and Jeff even told the crowd "we have a long program for you this evening." They ended up only playing one encore instead of the normal two (or three), and it made me wonder if maybe the Tower Theater has an 11:00 curfew?

The other complaint I had was about the guy standing behind us. It was obvious from the beginning of the show that he was a huge fan -- he was excitedly talking to his girlfriend/wife about the band before the show started, and he managed to ID the first few songs from the very first notes -- so I was predisposed to like him. The problem was, he liked to sing. Really loudly. And he knew all (and I do mean all) the lyrics. Now I know most Wilco lyrics, and I enjoy singing along in sing-alongy parts of the show, and for most of the rest of the show I'm singing to myself, so I understand that singing along is part of the enjoyment of the show for lots of people. But this guy was so fucking loud that by about the fourth song he was really getting on our nerves, to the point where I considered asking if he wanted to trade seats with me so he'd be in front of me instead of singing in my ear.

The singing came with two other problems -- a need to yell "WOOOOOO" as loud as possible during just about any quiet part of any song, and a complete disregard for lyrical content when singing along, which is weird for someone who seemed like such a big fan (and who obviously knew all the words). This reached a ridiculous nadir when, at the end of "She's A Jar," he sang along thusly:

She's a jar, with a heavy lid
My pop quiz kid, a sleepy kisser
A pretty war with feelings hid
You know she begs me not to hit her
WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Unfortunately, I am not kidding.

Fortunately, the dates delivered unto me one of those perfect moments that you (or at least I) often think about but never get to act on. At one point DJo went to the bathroom, and I slid over into her spot, which just happened to be directly in front of this guy. I could tell he had moved over a little bit more to be able to see past me (I could tell because, thanks to his voice, I knew exactly where he was standing) so I moved over a bit too. This went on for most of a song, until he finally leaned forward and said, "excuse me, do you think you could move over a bit so I could see?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I ruining the show for you?" I asked him. A bit taken aback, he responded that I was. "Well, maybe if you weren't singing so loudly you wouldn't be ruining the show for me."

The look on his face was priceless. After a few beats, he snottily replied, "do you feel better now?" To which I replied, "if you stopped singing so loudly I would feel better," at which point I turned back around to face the stage (and moved over so I wasn't in his way).

I guess it was sort of a dick move on my part. But you know what? He didn't sing nearly as loudly for the rest of the show and I had a much better time because of it.