i went to the jeff tweedy solo show last night at the fillmore.
first off, the opening act was a guy named nels cline, who plays with wilco from time to time. and, well, it was kinda weird. and by kinda weird, i mean really frigging weird, so much so that it killed the crowd - and this is already a san francisco crowd. it was just some sort of self-indulgent masturbation on stage, making noises that really didn't have much of an arc or...look, even that was way too intricate to describe.
it sounded like what a blind man would hear if he were watching "friday the 13th, part 3".
or, it sounded like r2d2 after four sacks of white castle.
if you find either of that interesting, go nuts.
then tweedy came out.
you know, wilco is a fantastic band. in fact, you're not gonna find one that's tighter and as explorative as they are. they do a lot of complicated shit, with plenty of songs within songs.
but when you strip it all down, when you get rid of the drums and bass and horns, when it's just jeff tweedy and his guitar, you begin to concentrate of the musical storyline, his dylan/lennon voice and, especially, the lyrics.
especially the lyrics.
and he's one talented dude.
i mean, i know the words, but they really stand out when they don't have to compete.
The ashtray says
You were up all night
When you went to bed
With your darkest mind
Your pillow wept
And covered your eyes
And you finally slept
While the sun caught fire
Oh, you've changed.
he puts on a fantastic show. he really does. a lot of bantering with the crowd.
but it's still all about the music.
Let's forget about the tongue-tied lightning
Let's undress just like cross-eyed strangers
This is not a joke, so please stop smiling
What was I thinking when I said it didn't hurt?
if you're not a huge fan of wilco, you're really missing out.