It might happen, truly, once in a lifetime; your partner drags you to a gig of a band that you’ve never heard of before, you don’t particularly want to go but you do it for ‘love’, but you come out the other side transformed.
This is what happened to me five years ago on a particularly cold fireworks night at Shepherd’s Bush Empire. The thought of having to see one man ( Jeff Tweedy) and his guitar under a single spotlight doing a two hour set sounded mind-numbing to an uncultured, musically retarded 20 year old. But this is where the “new me” started. Wilco/Tweedy became my zeitgeist for music. Starsailor, Embrace and other middle-of-the-road, unimaginative bands started to be deleted from my iPod. It was time to grow up.
I’ve been lucky enough to catch Wilco/Tweedy pretty much every time they have graced London with their presence since that winter’s eve, but the realisation that I was actually watching (in my opinion) the best band on the planet came on Tuesday night at the Royal Festival Hall. And it’s actually the fist time in my life that I’ve ever felt comfortable and justified in my conviction of such a claim.
“We’d like to welcome other members of the Galactic Senate here tonight…There are many important things to discuss” Tweedy jokes with the sold out Royal Festival Hall, implying the sci-fi looking auditorium looks like something out of ‘Star Wars’. The audience laughs. Star Wars references and Wilco; this really is going to be a good night.
Wilco soar from heavy, loud guitars to downright gorgeous melodies; something that is easily proved in ‘Via Chicago’ as it plunges into a cloud of dark noise from the smooth vocals from Tweedy and the dreamy guitar of Nels Cline.
The whole set list was well thought out, beautifully merging the exquisitely simple with its crushing piano ‘Red-Eyed and Blue’ with the anthemic ‘I Got You’.
‘I Got You’ is a sight and sound to behold; watching Tweedy, bassist John Stirratt and multi-instrumentalist, but in this case guitarist, Pat Sansone all step up to their microphones in unison to provide the triple-velvet vocals is actually beautiful.
‘Handshake Drugs’ starts pleasantly enough with only small clues as to where Tweedy and Nels might take (what seems like) the plodding song. But by the end, we are lost in melodic white noise with Tweedy and Nels trying to out-feedback one another.
In between songs, shouts of “I love you Jeff!” fill the room, more dominant from the males, to which Tweedy replies “Why is it always a dude?”
A personal highlight was ‘Impossible Germany’, from the 2007 album ‘Sky Blue Sky, with its unusual flourish of serene to maniacal and incendiary guitar sounds and the two minute solo using the entirety of the fret board showcasing just why Nels Cline is one of the best guitar players out there; no ifs no buts.
Tweedy encourages the crowd, without telling them directly (because that’s what got him “in trouble…way back when”) to stand up. A member of the audience makes a dig at the policy, shouting “we’re not allowed to stand up. You have to tell us” and that’s exactly what he does. (Those of you who are familiar with him will know about his chequered past with the UK audience. An incident Tweedy seems only happy to bring up when on stage and it always gets a few laughs).
The encore lends itself mostly to what some call Wilco’s career defining album, ‘Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’ and all songs are expected (apart from the often favourite ‘I Am Trying to Break Your Heart’). ‘Reservations’ sounds haunting and even more glorious than it does on record, with the emphasis on Tweedy and his acoustic guitar. ‘Jesus etc’ and ‘Heavy Metal Drummer’ are always crowd pleasers, with the crowd never having to be asked to join in with the latter, adding the “ooo-oooh, aaaah-aaaahs”.
The hard-hitting ‘Misunderstood’ is also given an outing, evoking the need to scream “NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING” along with the band, until throats are dry.
Every song is epic, even the understated songs. Wilco have come here to play every song as if it were their last.
I was almost sad to realise that there was more talent on that stage than there is in any band currently coming out of the UK. The charisma of Tweedy in his song writing, delivery and on-stage banter, the eccentricity and skill of Nels Cline, the versatility of guitarist come keys come maracas player Pat Sansone with the never-failing security of bassist John Stirratt and drummer Glenn Kotche.
Wilco are as close to perfection as you can get, without getting tedious.
By Zara Crockett-King