 The majestic surrounds of the Palais theatre seem a fitting place to experience Wilco. While there is nothing wrong with going to see a knee-deep-in-dirt rock show at the local skids, there is a certain refined element, a sophistication, in Wilco’s music that is complimented by this old, beautiful building. The air is certainly alive with anticipation, the chatter, scenery and scope of the event more like an opening of a play than a typical ‘gig’ night.
Glenn Richards seems aware of the size of this occasion. The Augie March frontman takes to the stage with Kiernan Box, the band’s keyboardist, performing on harmonica. Opening with ‘Here Comes The Night’ from Sunset Studies, Richards’ lyrics shine in this intimate environment; his words and phrasing now clearly at the forefront of the song. Even when battling a cold, Richards’ voice is superlative.
The real treat for the Augie March fans who arrive early is not the reinterpretation of the old songs, but the preview of new material – Richards is currently writing material for the band’s follow up to Moo, You Bloody Choir. The first of these unrecorded tracks is ‘Backyard Arcana’: “It continues in the grand old tradition of pretentious sounding song titles,” Richards says, “But, to be honest, I have no idea what it means.”
Apart from starting in the wrong key, the song is confidently delivered, featuring the classic lyricism grown to be expected of the songwriter and a continuation of the sparser melodies that dominate Moo. The second offering is a short folk-ish number entitled ‘The Good Ship Austria’, which Richards tells was written on Australia Day, followed by ‘Poor Dog’s Soul’, its introspection similar to ‘Bottle Baby’.
Aside from the added clarity in the lyrical delivery, the other notable element of Richards’ sans Augie was the clawpicking rhythmic approach that dominated the songs. This was particularly notable on a particularly countrified version of ‘Mother Greer’, and Richards and Box’s rousing version of ‘One Crowded Hour’.
While the characteristically self-critical singer claimed that this particular performance was “fucking terrible”, the stripped back approach of ‘One Crowded Hour’ elevated the lyrics, elucidating the poetry in Richards’ words and the mesmerising rhythmic delivery of the song. While it is clear that the band is aware of the legacy that the song has created, the art of living with their hit may lie in interpretative performances like these. Box also contributed heavily to the success of this rendition, delivering a sensational harmonica solo that mimicked and played off his own work on the album’s keyboard solo.
The duo closed their set with ‘This Train Will Be Taking No Passengers’. By this stage the effects of the cold are starting to set in and a few of the rousing ‘Traiiiiiiinnnn’ catchcries are cut short. But this does little to stop the stampede of words that reign from the vocalists mouth, the weight and phrasing of these acoustic versions revealing the Augie March frontman as groundbreaking as Dylan in terms of the lyrical metre he uses to enliven his songs.
In the short intermission, the crowd multiplies, filling the Palais’ bottom level seats from all entry points. Aside from the odd sprinkling of under 25-year-olds, the majority of those at the gig are on the other side of 30, paying some credit to the criticism of younger music fans that Wilco are adult-contemporary (an analysis that has been bandied around more since the leak of Sky Blue Sky, with its rich alt-country meanderings, less experimental structures and reliance on the guitar solo).
Back in the theatre the quiet chatter dies down as soon as the lights are dimmed. On-stage stroll the six members of Wilco. Opening with ‘Via Chicago’, the acoustic-driven origins of the song are intermeshed with some spectacular noise-rock, punctuated by the chaotic drumming of Glenn Kotche; the combination of these factors creating a sonic explosion suggestive of the material that would dominate the first set.
About half way through his support slot, Glenn Richards took time out to let the audience know what they were in for: “One of the best shows you’ll ever see”. Richards clarified this, saying that when his band toured with Wilco they were great, but this new line-up had now grown into itself and were better than ever. Any doubts about the credibility of this claim were quickly waylaid, new additions Pat Sansone (multi-instrumentalist) and Nels Cline (guitarist) added additional sonic weight to a band that is renowned for this very quality. Live, drummer Kotche is also worthy of particular mention, as he possesses a unique ability to garnish the song with the required delicacy, always exercising a stringent musicality and never succumbing to the overplaying that occurs with many talented drummers.
Launching into the first of a handful of tracks previewed from the upcoming Sky Blue Sky, ‘You Are My Face’ sees Wilco relying on the warm harmonies of singer-songwriter Jeff Tweedy and bassist John Stirratt, the only two original members of the band. After the subdued and vocal heavy introduction the song breaks out into its soul-infused groove over Cline’s guitar solo. As the embers of the song die down, the familiar atmospherics of ‘I’m Trying To Break Your Heart’ enter. Aside from the technical brilliance and flawless renditions of these opening numbers, the band’s unity and professionalism shine through, each song seamlessly rolling into the next.
Regardless of the band’s tightness and professionalism, the fundamental reason why Wilco are an important band – and the defining character that makes their music innovative – is the way they have married conventional songwriting with abstract instrumentation and noise-art. Where many bands have built or diverged from the layered instrumentation that was pioneered by the Beatles and The Beach Boys (see The Shins, Ruby Suns), or have utilised the wall of guitars and noise introduced by acts like My Bloody Valentine, Wilco take readily from both of these sound pools, fashioning a combination that is uniquely their own.
But simply borrowing from others styles does not make a great band. The quality that lifts these ideas far above their origins is partly the execution in mixing these elements, but more importantly, it is the way that the noise/sampled elements of the Wilco sound seem to perfectly capture the sentiment of Tweedy’s personal, intimate lyrics. Live, just as on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, ‘I’m Trying To Break Your Heart’ is a testimony to this; the confusion and rambling in Tweedy’s lyricism well met by the disorder of conflicting sounds that reign over him, making his lone voice seem smothered: “I want to hold you in the Bible-black predawn/You're quite a quiet, domino, bury me now.”
The tough thing to remember as we are engulfed in sound is that under all of this beautiful mess there is a simple acoustic song. Sure it has been transformed and bent, yet it is still essentially a fragile tune.
‘Handshake Drugs’ is the first of three successive tracks from A Ghost Is Born, an album which took Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’s noise aspects to the extreme. Tweedy, as the frontman, demands attention switching from casual, effortless guitar playing to the dominating, snarling singer ripping through words with veracity. The hypnotic pulse of Stirratt’s bass and Kotche’s shaker-fuelled rhythm eventually give out to the twin-guitar chaos created by Cline and Tweedy.
It is these diversions, these tangents, which are another major facet of the Wilco experience. The soaring, scorching solos seemingly come from nowhere but fit the piece – each song in the opening set contains at least one similar moment of inspiration that transports Tweedy’s songs to new heights and challenge any credible conception of Wilco as an adult-contemporary band.
‘At Least That’s What You Said’ is another example of the delicateness in Tweedy’s compositions. Here the dynamic of the song and the straightforward personal lyrics are vastly different to the rhythmic rhyme of Richards’ earlier performance, but both have their charm. The Wilco frontman utilises tone more than his counterpart, able to swing from fragility to strength at a whim, his personal, day-to-day lyricism easier to grasp and more contemporary sounding than his equivalent. Richards’ strength, on the other hand, is the poetic nature of his rhyme; the way words alliterate and phrases twist and turn into multiple meanings, like a modern day Shakespearian.
Before Tweedy finished the trilogy of songs from A Ghost Is Born with ‘Muzzle Of Bees’ he takes the chance to address the crowd, saying that his lack of banter was caused by saying a lot of “stupid things last night.” The highlight of which being the statement that the band wanted to play here, in the Southern hemisphere: ‘Where it wouldn’t matter if we sucked”.
Surprisingly more comedic than the general perception of Tweedy as moody would suggest, and certainly more self-assured than his frail portrayal in the documentary I Am Trying To Break Your Heart, the Wilco leader engages in all sort of banter with the crowd. In fact, if performances like this are anything to go by Tweedy would be fit to roam the stages of the Melbourne Comedy Festivals with his witty one-liners and biting social commentary – the highlight of which was his denunciation of a fan who had met the band, and after scoring free tickets to the show for his friends, bothered the band’s manager again, seeking out more tickets for his ever expanding group of compatriots.
From ‘Muzzle Of Bees’, Wilco return to a song from the Summerteeth album, ‘Shot In The Arm, a track which foreshadowed the band’s changing sound. The continuum of their sonic journey is then completed with the delicate ‘Impossible Germany’; Wilco highlight in three songs how, over the course of eight years, their sound has changed drastically.
While Cline’s pre-Wilco jazz guitar roots had been evident in flashes of the preceding songs, it is on ‘Impossible Germany’ that the true virtuosity of his playing comes to light. In a two-and-a-half minute guitar solo, Cline faithfully recreates the fluid guitar lines from the album, displaying both a deft touch and a keen sense of dynamics. The title track from Sky Blue Sky exemplifies a different side of Cline playing: a lap steel guitar that accentuates the song’s country, folk origins. Able to morph from near psychotic noise wizardry to subtlety and restraint is a key to being a member of Wilco and Cline is more than worthy of his place in the new line-up.
The first set begins to wind down with ‘Hummingbird’, ‘War on War’ and crowd favourite ‘Jesus Etc’, each song more splendid than the last. At one stage Tweedy spoke out to the crowd professing that he didn’t care whether others liked their sound or not: “We get off on this shit every night”. For a band that has found recognition from every sphere of the music loving community it isn’t something that Tweedy need lose sleep over.
As the soul-filled, introspection of ‘Jesus Etc’ concludes, the syncopated piano riff of ‘Walken’, played by Mikael Jorgenson, enters. In what will undoubtedly be a live staple, the song has a swagger and off-kilter jig that accurately reflects the songs title; Tweedy’s falsetto pushing into areas that have been unexplored tonight. The three-pronged guitar attack of ‘Walken’ has an almost ZZ Top-esque blues riff that crashes in and out of the song, eventually breaking for a built-for-stadium rock guitar line that is punctuated by Kotche’s Bonham-inspired drum roll.
Closing with ‘I’m The Man Who Loves You’, it is hard not to be totally awestruck by the sheer brilliance of Wilco’s first set. Mouths are firmly agape, people rush to the front of the stage, now able to stand in readiness for what is expected to be a sensational conclusion.
In this first set there have been moments of beauty and near transcendence that can carry you. This is the value of a brilliant live act, it makes a working week roll by in anticipation and then, seeing a band as breathtaking as Wilco, it can help you through a couple of days; all the daily distractions now buzzing a little more quietly.
‘Misunderstood’ is a surprise second set opener, as it had not been played at the previous night’s Melbourne gig. The song is seemingly made for the finale of the smashing accents of the instruments and Tweedy barking the words: “I’d like to thank you all for nothing; nothing; nothing; nothing!” It is another great example of Wilco taking a simple song and pounding it with angst and noise; beating it into a new form. As Tweedy said on the aforementioned I Am Trying To Break Your Heart documentary: “There’s no reason at all not to destroy it. We made it, it’s ours to destroy and that’s liberating and exciting in a really creative way.” This approach is equally as suited live as it is in the studio; the changing dynamics captivating the audience.
In line with Tweedy’s earlier comments about the band’s carefree attitude to public opinion, ‘What Light’ a Dylan-esque ballad from the tail end of the upcoming Sky Blue Sky is played: “If you feel like singing a song, and you want other people to sing along, just sing what you feel don’t let anyone say it’s wrong”. The back-to-back selection of the slower tempo tracks ‘What Light’ and ‘Late Greats’ may have been a realisation of Tweedy’s words, as Wilco ignore the general tendency for a rocking conclusion.
‘Kingpin’, however, is aimed squarely at the rock ‘n’ roll tradition of the encore, as Tweedy and the band engage more with the crowd – for the only time in the night Tweedy seems annoyed as the audience does not respond to the suggested double-time hand-clapping section. Because of Tweedy’s encouragement – “participate in your lives people” – the crowd eventually rise to the task, making assorted noises in the song’s dedicated call and response section. While the singer’s jovial banter was welcome, the fist pumping, scream along seemed out of place and unnecessary at the gig.
Thankfully, an energetic and more concise ‘I’m A Wheel’ closed out the first encore. In a gig that threatened to be dominated by the immense talents of Cline and Kotche, Tweedy’s otherworldly high pitched noise in the song’s finale displayed the other side of his voice, absent of any restraint, ensuring that the gigs best moment fell to the frontman.
The second and final encore leads with the soothing ‘Reservations’. Despite the set break, the change in tone and mood is a great compliment to the versatility of Tweedy’s songwriting and the flexibility of his voice. Back-to-back renditions of ‘Hesitating Beauty’ and ‘California’ Stars’ highlight the lighter, more conventional side of the last set.
While each audience member is going to have favourites, there are a myriad of cries for material from A.M. Radio which were deflected by Tweedy: “Oh, you guys still listen to A.M. Radio, how quaint”. Eventually the requests win out as ‘Passenger Side’ from A.M. concludes the evening.
While a band’s past is always relevant to their development, Wilco are a far better, more innovative and more interesting band than the original members who recorded A.M. twelve years ago. It is strange to hear so many requests for these now outdated songs.  Maybe the A.M. fans are simply more vocal than their counterparts? Whatever the reason, such requests pose interesting questions like: what would tonight’s crowd be like if there was no evolution? And more importantly, do these earlier songs compare?
After tonight’s performance it seems unlikely that they do, as the diversity and intensity of the first set was replaced by some tracks in the encore that were uninspiring – ‘Passenger Side’, ‘Hesitating Beauty’ and ‘Kingpin’ to name three. You knew that it was the same band that played ‘Muzzle of Bees’ and ‘Handshake Drugs’ just an hour ago, as the musicianship was still sensational. But the key element to Wilco’s sound, the bold marriage of different musical conventions, was downgraded to simple singer-songwriter fodder.
These lapses did not dampen the night; it was still one of the best gigs you are likely to see. What it did reaffirm though is that Wilco are best when they are evolving, and for a band who are defined by this quality they needn’t dip back into the decade old past to close out their performance – as a listener I wouldn’t fret, the band addressed this at the next Sydney gig with a closing set that included the heavier ‘Hate It Here’, ‘Misunderstood’ and ‘Spiders (Kidsmoke)’. Proving again they are still aware of the dangers of staying stationery.
Tonight Wilco confirmed that they are one of the world’s great bands – their first set was the best set I’ve ever witnessed. The scary thing about this is that you know that they will keep on digging to become better. Aside from a few average final song choices, it is hard to imagine how this is possible.
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