Alt-country turned experimental rock darlings Wilco are known for playing marathon-like endurance tests approaching two and a half hours in length and upwards of 30 songs, with multiple encores. When they were slotted to play just an hour and a half on the opening night of SunFest, it didn’t seem like an realistic expectation of brevity—like asking Shakespeare to write just two acts of a play.
And, indeed, Wilco ignored the schedule, taking us all the way to two hours and more than 25 songs generously plucked from its eight studio albums and its three-volume Woody Guthrie project, along with a smattering of obscure cuts and, most surprisingly, a gem from Uncle Tupelo, Jeff Tweedy’s legendary pre-Wilco band.
Of all the group’s albums, only the sublime “Summerteeth” was shut out of the set, which is too bad—but it’s hard to quibble with the final selections, which flowed masterfully from poppy hits to spacey aural canvases to vintage alt-country and finally to fist-pumping sing-alongs. Wilco has timelessly resisting trending into any musical zeitgeist, and last night’s set reflected this diversity, transitioning from the jubilant, Beatlesesque pop of “Hummingbird” to the deliberate and difficult B-side “Panthers” to a thrilling, anarchic arrangement of “Poor Places,” whose music channeled the lyrics’ anxiety.
Other surprises included a molten rock version of “Kamera,” which transformed from a quiet plea to a muscular demand, its music as pounding and insistent as anything released by The Fall. Three songs from Wilco’s first album, “A.M.”, turned up on the set list, catchy but often unplayed classics like “Passenger Side” and “Box Full of Letters” (which was my request, submitted via Wilco’s website the day before).
Unsurprisingly, the “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” selections received a massive response, and no matter how many times I hear “Jesus, Etc,” it gives me chills, even in the humid open air. And “New Madrid,” the aforementioned Uncle Tupelo tune, nearly unleashed my floodgates with its ragged poetry, even though the speakers suddenly decided to become staticky during that performance.
Tweedy’s banter was minimal last night, the better to cram as many songs as possible into the abbreviated set. Before announcing the title of the masterful “Hate it Here,” he said, “don’t take it personally—it’s not about you.” Earlier, referencing the Lenny Kravitz performance blaring from across the other SunFest stage, he thanked us for coming to see Wilco instead: “We realize you have many entertainment options on a night like this, so we appreciate you flying with us. You could say you’re ‘going our way.’”
As much as eyes were on Tweedy, the show proved to be, foremost, a showcase for his band, which remains one of the best in the business. “Art of Almost,” a song that can only be fully appreciated in a live setting, bristled with brooding New Wave angst, and it climaxed in a blissed-out guitar frenzy from Nels Cline that generated some of the loudest applause of the night. Cline’s imaginative solos and inventive shredding—some of it recalling Thurston Moore, with whom he has shared stages—also elevated “Handshake Drugs,” “I’m the Man Who Loves You,” “Impossible Germany” and others. Not to be outdone, multi-instrumentalist Pat Sansone’s Townshendian windmills helped make “Laminated Cat” and others an invigorating live experience.
The set crashed to a close with the raucous punk-rock howl of “I’m a Wheel,” sending many of home beautiful and stoned, and setting a standard of quality—and quantity—that few other SunFest acts are likely to top.
SET LIST:
Handshake Drugs
Kamera
Walken
I’m the Man Who Loves You
Secret of the Sea
Heavy Metal Drummer
Hummingbird
Panthers
Poor Places
Art of Almost
Shouldn’t Be Ashamed
Jesus, Etc.
Born Alone
Laminated Cat
Box Full of Letters
New Madrid
Passenger Side
California Stars
Red-Eyed and Blue
I Got You
Impossible Germany
Dawned on Me
The Late Greats
Hate it Here
Monday
Outta Mind Outta Sight
I’m a Wheel
