CONCERT REVIEW: Wilco
Wednesday, October 14th, 2009Thursday, October 15th, 2009
Massey Hall - Toronto, ON
While most hardcore indie rock-philes would characterize the international mini-rivalry between Radiohead and Wilco (no, the bands don't appear to be in on this) as a hands-down victory for Radiohead, I'm not so sure. Dismiss them as "dad rock" all you want-- is Paul Thomas Anderson making "dad cinema" because he rips-off Robert Altman? -- Wilco has a musicianship that even Radiohead (with all their computers and robots and whatnot) can't always equal. The argument in Radiohead's defense is that they're more innovative and experimental. Fair enough and, for that reason, their seven studio albums have the slight edge over Wilco's. However, the doom-and-gloom that pervades Radiohead's music makes for live shows that are thrilling, yet somewhat alienating. At a Radiohead show, you bond with the rest of the crowd... over your shared sense of isolation. Wilco's appeal is simpler and more refreshingly direct. While Radiohead is the defining bummer band of its generation, Wilco may be the defining party band.
As "Wilco (The Song)" comes right out and announces, Wilco is different in that they love (or at least like) their audience. Whereas Radiohead drifts into heavy-handed apocalypticism every chance they get, there's a far greater range of emotions at a Wilco show, from panic and despair to warmth and playfulness. They're more light on their feet, offering banter and performances that are down-to-earth, honest, exciting and yes, entertaining. They know how to engage the hell out of an an audience, but they also know how to tear through your skull like chainsaws on a chalkboard -- if the moment calls for it. Sometimes this even means a wry, playful insult, but it's all in the name of sincere, bullshit-free connection. Is that how your dad rocks?
Before I dive into Wilco (The Concerts), some mention should be made of exuberant opener Liam Finn. His method of playing an instrument for a minute, getting a loop going then moving on to another instrument could be dismissed as gimmicky... if it weren't so joyously haphazard. If you embrace his borderline one-man-show, Demetri Martin-like magician tendencies for their playfulness, there's a lot to like. However, some inexplicably read Finn's approach as an arrogant show-off act. Seriously? Who the hell shows-off with loops? That's like showing-off with lip-synching.
While I didn't catch much of Finn's performance on night two, the part I did catch substituted Wilco drummer Glenn Kotche for the previous night's drum-loops. This allowed for a pleasing, if predictable, tribute to Neil Young (if you've spent much time at Massey Hall, chances are you're grown tired of the obligatory NY shout-out). This change also offered some interesting insight into Finn's night one performance. The loop-heavy version of Finn's set benefits from its rejection of live music convention and its playful (not arrogant) tendency to orient whatever Finn's playing as a heroic solo. Sure, this means the spotlight's always on Finn, but it also deconstructs the songs in an interesting way, giving each instrument the chance to shine. At the very least, Finn's stage act is a worthy experiment and an improvement over the more conventional feel of his recordings.
As for Wilco, where do I start? Tackling nearly every song like some kind of Dewey Cox-style career summation, Wilco '09 have the air of a band in its prime, firing on all cylinders and having a great time doing it. They played 23 songs on the first night and 24 on the second, only repeating 11. While this made for a pleasingly diverse selection of songs, fans of early Wilco were given predictably slim pre-Yankee Hotel Foxtrot pickings. A.M. was shut out on night one, only to make a late encore cameo on night two with "Casino Queen." The reverse was true of Summerteeth, which landed three memorable tracks on night one, but none on night two.
Both nights included a brief sampling of Being There (2 tracks per night) and Mermaid Avenue (1 track per night) with the latter providing major encore highlights at both shows: "Hoodoo Voodoo" was the rousing first night closer and "California Stars" (with special guests Liam Finn and E.J. Barnes) made a strong impression on night two. The latter was followed by a cheerful visit from Toronto resident Leslie Feist -- who made a similar cameo at Grizzly Bear's Toronto show in June -- joining Tweedy to perform their Wilco (The Album) duet "You and I."
Oddly enough, several of the tracks that left the strongest impression were the ones that Wilco played twice -- including "Wilco (The Song)," "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart," "Bull Black Nova" and "Handshake Drugs" -- presumably because they're the most well-oiled. By all indications, this familiarity only magnifies the band's welcome appetite for experimentation.
The obvious show-stopper both nights was "Impossible Germany," which reinforces my puzzlement about the widespread (but by no means unanimous) critical perception that Wilco has floundered since Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Post-Foxtrot Wilco is Nels Cline-era Wilco. What other Wilco could you possibly want?
During Cline's first night night solo on "Impossible Germany," you could see looks of genuine fascination on the other band members' faces. He does this every night, but it sounds like he's constantly breathing new life into the song. Rather than play the album solo -- which he never abandons altogether -- he played some kind of heightened, zero gravity rendition on night one, reducing the audience to a bunch of awestruck Beatles-on-Ed-Sullivan-style whimpering teenagers.
Even those who couldn't care less about guitar solos had to acknowledge that something special was going down. Nels Cline makes you care about guitar solos. More philosophical readers might find themselves asking, "If a human just played that solo, what am I?" On night two, Cline dialed-this-solo-down a bit, preferring sweet, chilled-out melody to unbridled, manic force, and it made for a nice one-two punch.
Which is not to suggest that this is simply The Nels Cline Hour (closer to two hours actually). Sure, he steals the show, but everyone in the band has their moments. Bassist John Stirratt -- the one founding member and Uncle Tupelo vet still in the band besides Tweedy -- offers a mellow, likable presence at centre stage, not to mention confident, inventive bass playing throughout. He's the cool, reliable uncle type that every band needs.
Drummer Glenn Kotche delivers a similar mix of good-natured presence and forceful, unpredictable playing. I'd be tempted to call him Wilco's secret weapon, if it weren't equally applicable to keyboardist Mike Jorgensen and multi-instrumentalist Pat Sansone. The most goofily rock 'n' roll moment of Wilco's Toronto dates came late on night one when Sansone started unleashing unexpected guitar vitriol, much to the surprise of a puzzled-looking Tweedy. Never one to back down from guitar hijinks, Nels Cline joined-in. This culminated in an amusing, seemingly impromptu guitar-off with both guitarists sending their final notes into the night with an outrageously over-the-top finger to the sky.
As for Tweedy, his take on the most recent Wilco material breathed new life into tracks that are arguably too tame and conventional on record. Of particular note was "Bull Black Nova," admittedly one of the least tame offerings on Wilco (The Album) and also its stand-out track. On both nights, this song concluded with impassioned shouting from Tweedy -- a welcome dose of early show force -- and was further punctuated by stylized lighting flourishes, another lively feature of Wilco's recent live shows.
Noting the 11PM curfew at Massey Hall, Tweedy tried to keep stage banter to a minimum, while still engaging the audience in some playful exchanges. On both nights, he handed most of the vocal duties over to the audience for Foxtrot favorite "Jesus, Etc." On night one, Tweedy told the audience that they were "pretty good" (a generous review), humorously adding "it wasn't great" (a more accurate review). Sensing some friction with the audience, he later explained that he was only kidding. However, on night two, you could tell that he was genuinely pleased with the rowdier crowd's more enthusiastic delivery.
As far as the battle-of-the-shows goes, I'd give the slight edge to night two, but only because the overall double bill played like one long show -- it's no mistake that night two omitted the weird, computerized-sounding band introduction from night one; it wasn't necessary -- and the second half of a show is generally more rewarding than the first. Sure, there was plenty of repetition in terms of songs played, but Wilco brought something new to these songs the second time around.
It's no surprise that Wilco now has one of the most devoted fanbases in rock 'n' roll. Even with a stellar stack of albums under their belt -- these shows only reinforced my belief that Wilco has virtually no bad songs -- their recorded material doesn't quite deliver the liberating bliss of their live shows. There aren't many bands that I could see on two consecutive nights without some degree of diminished interest, but after two nights of Wilco, I was hungry for more (hell, I already have tickets for their Montreal show in February).
There's a contagious joy and sincerity to what these guys do and you can feel that in their audience. People let their guards down at a Wilco show, leaving behind any ironic, hipster detachment to enter a more heartfelt, grown-up headspace. At both shows, you could feel the sense of communal experience that Tweedy has always aspired to in his live shows -- and you immediately understand why he's so happy being there. -- Jonathan Doyle
