Wilco live at the Pageant, Friday, May 16, 2008

(foto credit)

When the members of Wilco shuffled onto stage Friday night, dressed like librarians on happy hour, the crowd went bananas. Wild, uncaged, totally unexpected excitement. Don’t get me wrong, I like Wilco. Pretty much everyone I know likes Wilco. They’re a very likeable band. But they’ve been granfathered into that rare indie elder band status, occupied most notably by the likes of Yo La Tengo, where they’re still young enough to be releasing amazing, vital records, but they’ve also been around the block enough times that everyone sort of takes it for granted that they’re a Really Good band that consistently puts out Really Good songs. In another ten years or so they’ll be selling $100 tickets at the Fox to middle-aged fans in business suits. Nobody gets out of their chair, screaming bloody murder excited for a Really Good band, do they?

Apparently, they do.

With all the work I’ve been buried under lately I had nearly forgotten that the show was going to happen, but given the level of hullabaloo surrounding the three-day return of Saint Louis’ favorite (east of the river) son Jeff Tweedy it was kind of hard not to find yourself at the Pageant at least once during Wilco’s stay. Some people had stood outside the doors for hours waiting to enter, while others greedily gobbled up tickets for all three nights with a fervor typically reserved for Dead Heads and devotees of the Jonas Brothers.

The security pat-down at the door seemed like an odd touch — as if this ragtag crowd of grandpas, Greeks, and gawky highschoolers on first dates was somehow going to erupt into violence — but after witnessing near mosh pit conditions commence during Nels Cline’s glimmering guitar solo on “Impossible Germany” I had reconsidered my opinion on the security guards. There were beefy frat boys in baseball caps and cutoff T-shirts screaming themselves hoarse during “Jesus, Etc.” and drunken ladies bouncing in the rafters during the Mermaid Ave. cut “California Stars.” Damn, I thought, these people go freakin’ apeshit over their mellow rock.

There were a few times where Tweedy himself had to ask the crowd to simmer down. Apparently a little too much elbowing and kicking was taking place front and center during the very un-raucus song “Muzzle of Bees,” which required Tweedy’s gentle intervention. Shortly thereafter a high-pitched squeal from a female audience member prompted Tweedy to quip that he had never seen anyone that excited to see multi-instrumentalist Pat Sansone before. (It was a joke, obviously. No one was there to see Pat.) Pat, late to the joke, stood there awkwardly with his hand on his chin. But now that Pat was up from his synthesizer station and behind a guitar, the band plugged into “Handshake Drugs.” It occurred to me that it’s not very often that I see three guitarists and a bassist all going at it at the same time, Skynyrd-style. There was a kid behind me with an ironic t-shirt that read, “I went to the sausage festival!” I kinda felt the same way.

I realize that what I’ve written so far gives the impression that I was underwhelmed, which is far from the case. It was, not surprisingly, a Really Good show loaded with a non-stop selection of Really Good songs (predominantly from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot). But it was even more than that. In the live setting I finally came to realize just how technically gifted (and virtuoustic?) Nels Cline and Glenn Kotche are at their respective guitars and drums, and virtuousity isn’t even something I tend to look for in my rock musicians. Tweedy, even though he started out a little stiff and Arrojoed, loosened up as the evening wore on and really seemed to be enjoying himself on the more upbeat tracks like “Can’t Stand It” and the first set closer “I’m the Man Who Loves You.” He even coiffed his hair up in an Elvis-meets-Dewey Cox gesture for the outstanding second encore, which included some of my personal highlights with the organ pop riff of Summerteeth’s “I’m Always in Love” and the dad-funk of “Hate It Here”; his screeches on “Hoodoo Voodoo” really made the night for me.

You can find more informative reviews of the show here and here, complete with insinuations over all the homecoming themes surrounding song selections like “Via Chicago” and the East St. Louis ode “Casino Queen.” I’m kind of upset that I missed the Nudie suit on Saturday.

A minute-long snippet from the what-felt-like-three-hour “Spiders (Kidsmoke)” during the first encore.

A clip of “Impossible Germany” from the following night.

Another short clip from Saturday. This one is “Jesus, Etc.” You’d think with all the camera phones going all night long you’d be able to find more on YouTube. No such luck.

Setlist (via A to Z):
1. Via Chicago
2. I Am Trying To Break Your Heart
3. You Are My Face
4. Muzzle Of Bees
5. Handshake Drugs
6. A Shot In The Arm
7. Kamera
8. War On War
9. Jesus, Etc.
10. Impossible Germany
11. It’s Just That Simple
12. Misunderstood
13. Forget The Flowers
14. California Stars
15. Can’t Stand It
16. Theologians
17. I’m The Man Who Loves You

Encore one:
18. Poor Places
19. Reservations
20. Spiders (Kidsmoke)

Encore two:
21. I’m Always In Love
22. Hate It Here
23. Walken
24. Casino Queen
25. Hoodoo Voodoo
26. Late Greats