Archive for October, 2009

Wilco at the Palladium and the Perils of a Band Giving Their Third Album a Goofy Name

AM-cover

When I was 19 I got to see one of my favorite bands of all time, Uncle Tupelo, play at a club in Dal­las called Trees. I was a DJ at the Bay­lor Uni­ver­sity sta­tion and had heard that they were going to be in Dal­las open­ing for Dri­vin’ n’ Cryin’, which I didn’t really like, but gladly paid the $20 to see that night. My friend Kath­leen and I drove the 90 miles north­ward to go to the show and I was blown away. Jay Far­rar broke more stings on his gui­tar than I could believe and Jeff Tweedy was cool in a doughy kind of way on bass. They ripped through track after track and ended their set after about 30 min­utes. It was amazing.

After that Kat and I left. Like I said, I didn’t like Dri­vin’ n’ Cryin’, so I didn’t stay, but I fol­lowed the band I went to see for the next sev­eral years. I didn’t see them live any­more, but I got all of their albums and watched their pro­gres­sion from country-rock (start­ing with “No Depres­sion”) to a mix­ture of blue­grass and country-folk (“Ano­dyne”). I didn’t know about all of the inter­nal tur­moil that was going on within the band at the time, I just thought they were great. And it hit me hard when I heard that they’d bro­ken up. Great bands break up every other day, but this one hit me rather hard. I really liked them and now I had to stop being lazy and find some­thing new to lis­ten to.

Of course, I didn’t have to wait long. Far­rar went out and formed Son Volt and Tweedy formed Wilco.

And if I’d been look­ing for a band to like after the breakup of Uncle Tupelo, Wilco was real love.

Their first album “A.M.” is fan­tas­tic. It con­tin­ued an already estab­lished sound that Tweedy and begun with Uncle Tupelo and car­ried it a step fur­ther, in more of a Rolling Stones direc­tion. If CDs could wear out I would have worn out “A.M.” by now. It is still one of my favorite com­fort albums to lis­ten to.

Their sec­ond album is less than per­fect though. “Being There” has great moments, but inter­spersed through it are tracks that I could have done with­out (‘Outta Mind, Outta Sight’, ‘King­pin’, ‘Hotel Ari­zona’) and that made me not love it as much as I wanted to. Not say­ing it isn’t good, it is, but I didn’t have that total uncon­di­tional love that I’d felt with “A.M.”.

After that a year or so went by and they came out with “Sum­mer­teeth”. And I thought, “Hmm…that’s a stu­pid album title.”

And my love for them stopped there. It was like peo­ple who like kids from TV shows in the 70’s. Peter Billings­ley never aged beyond A Christ­mas Story. Mark Hamill never aged past Star Wars. Cryo­geni­cally frozen, my love for Wilco stayed. And that was 1999.

Fast for­ward to a week and a half ago.

My friend Jimi has an extra ticket to their show at the Pal­la­dium, his wife doesn’t like the exper­i­men­tal gui­tar work of cur­rent Wilco gui­tarist Nels Cline, and they can’t get a babysit­ter, so a free ticket is mine for the tak­ing if I want it. And I do. So we go.

And the show was great. They played for about 2 hours plus and, strangely, didn’t play much off of the 2 albums that I love so much. Mostly from “Sum­mer­teeth”, “A Ghost is Born” and “Yan­kee Hotel Fox­trot”. So now I’m catch­ing up on my edu­ca­tion by lis­ten­ing to their other albums.

And I have one thing for Mr. Tweedy. Please, Jeff, no more goofy album titles. I’d rather we didn’t break up again for such a long period of time. Thank you.