At the Taft Theater, Cincinnati Ohio
Tonight I was able to catch Wilco on their tour supporting some album I don’t have. I take that back, I’m not sure why they’re touring, but it might have something to do with their rabid fans.
A sold out show comprised of an odd mix of pre-Dead / post-Phish folk turned out with their nifty corduroy blazers and pretty scarves. Bearded men and earthy chicks mingled with frat boys and glammed up girls—way too showered to be considered classic hippies.
I have most of their work but dropped off with “A Ghost is Born”, so there weren’t many expectations.
It was a great show.
Aside from a few stock Getty looped video backgrounds—attention video artisans, the mirror effect is a cheap shot at interesting—they sounded great and have inspired me to dig back through their catalogue.
It was a loud crowd with lots of yelling, a few lighters lit and an exceptionally buoyant voice in the audience that screamed, “Turn up your guitar! I can’t hear the solos.”
To which Jeff Tweedy came back, “I can’t see you, but I imagine you have hair down to here…” reaching around to his lower back. “I bet you have on a Kansas t-shirt, acid washed denim jeans, and white Reeboks.” He walks back to a monitor and fiddles with his guitar a moment before returning to the mic, “And I bet you have a fanny pack.”
He later apologized for the fanny pack remark, but before and after the band went through the paces of a sprawling set of their alt-county/melancholy/rocking repertoire.
The only downfall might have been my desire to sue the Taft Theater for the scoliosis I felt after contorting myself into their compact seats up in the balcony, surely made at a time in America’s brief history when folks were smaller. Even standing felt cramped.