Wilco Delivers! (a guest post from Kip who caught the gig in Sydney, Australia)
Over its 15 years as a band, Wilco has explored a varied range of sounds, from early alt-country tendencies to a sound influenced by classic rock, pop and folk. Ever restless, the band reinvented itself in the early-noughties by pushing its music in a more experimental direction. And when it seemed they’d become a band preoccupied with sonic experiments, it switched gears (again), putting out a melodic, folksy album, Sky Blue Sky, followed by an almost straightforward mainstream guitar album — last year’s king of the creepers, Wilco (The Album).
By single-mindedly pursuing a career based on slow organic growth, as opposed to intermittent commercial hits and a quick buck, Wilco have evolved into a live act that is seemingly beyond comparison. It’s difficult to imagine a tighter, more confident sextet, particularly when one considers the sonic breadth of their setlists. Great bands create a wall of sound when playing live; paradoxically, Wilco’s wall is a soft blanket that envelops its audience.
Wilco established the tone for a recent sold-out Saturday night Sydney show early on, opening with the chugging beat of Wilco (The Song). Over the song’s playful rhythm, frontman Jeff Tweedy sung, “Wilco will love you, baby,” and at once a sense of joyful openheartedness pervaded the mood for the rest of the two and half hour, 29-song set.
Early on, Wilco launched into another song off the new album, Bull Black Nova, a jarring, paranoid rocker with a clanging Spoon-like keyboard rhythm that recalls the piano chestnut, Chopsticks. The intensely claustrophobic Bull Black Nova was an abrupt transition from the light-hearted opener, but it signalled that the band was in the mood to rock out, and the setlist for the rest of the night favoured songs with driving guitars and opportunities for the band to unleash its unique wall of delicious sound.
The band’s two multi-instrumentalists – Pat Sansone and Mikael Jorgensen – laid down waves of interlocking sound with buzzing, squeaking and humming electronics as drummer Glenn Kotche masterfully filled in the spaces. It was easy to close your eyes and get caught up in these swirling acoustics as the understated lights that dotted the stage pulsed and glowed in the State Theatre’s darkness.
Unfortunately, a typical “hip” Sydney audience is cowered into fear of expressing themselves the wrong way at the wrong time, making the collective feel self-conscious about their presence at a gig and wondering how they’re supposed to participate. Doesn’t sound like a fun-filled experience, does it? Bollocks! Wilco are so sure of themselves now that the typical Sydney audience had little baring on the outcome.
Wilco came, saw and conquered. Sure they noticed the blatant audience coolness and they did their absolute best to change it – Tweedy’s banter, at times, was like a mischievous kid with a blunt stick prodding a hornet’s nest. But it mattered not.
For most groups who relish the interaction of a live show, playing the hits involves a delicate balancing act. On one hand, many people don’t like to have their memory of a favourite old tune radically altered. On the other, there are few worse prospects for the seasoned musician than the idea of being reduced to a living jukebox, churning out songs for which you have long since lost any affection. This was a problem that Wilco obviously circumvented a long time ago. There are no throw-aways; nothing is ever rushed.
The exceptionally talented lead guitarist Nels Cline stole the show with some surprisingly spectacular guitar playing that was so impressive that (some) people even jumped to their feet to whistle and applaud! Guitar solos can easily become indulgent, but I was blown away with the precision and grace of Cline’s playing, the way his often frantic strumming served the song and how he was able to consistently wow the audience without going overboard by laying it on too much. Normally I get impatient for long guitar solos to end, but Cline is the rare exception when I would’ve been happy to hear more.
At times Tweedy carries the look of a man who enjoys being dragged backwards through hedges. But this is a good thing in the context of a Wilco gig. Whether it’s his deadpan between-song banter, his ironic facial expressions or his folksy back porch demeanour, Tweedy is comfortably wedged in the driver’s seat.
Turning a stately 100 year-old theatre adjoining a mid-town Maccas into a back porch is a feat more readily associated with Uri Geller. But Wilco have magic in abundance. They are a band at ease with their lofty place in the live music world today. Happy to be enjoying their slow evolution from alt-country darlings to all-round sonic magicians. The boys, are quite simply, in outstanding form right now. If they ever stop-by your home town, do yourself a favour and pull-up a pew. You won’t be disappointed.
