Wilco

Wilco is a band that demands respect. The Chicago based rockers treated punters at The Forum in Melbourne to an eclectic, foot stomping set delivered with a confidence and swagger born from this band’s remarkable studio albums, and a life spent forging their songs on the road and in the alleyways and lonely hotel rooms of life.

Liam Finn opened with his clever brand of beardy, Joystick inspired indie rock. It was an apt choice of support act: his creative use of loops and wriggling bass lines gives his songs a strong body for sharply written, bittersweet tunes that swing in tone from soothing chord progressions to raucous, hammering guitar fuzz.

Deft and honest, Finn sprinkled his songs with Commodore 64 era beeps and blips, and set the scene for a night of music that see-sawed between crystal clear chords and jagged guitar solos.

Wilco kicked off with the title track from their latest album. A playful nugget of directly styled pop rock, ‘Wilco’ reassures its fans that Jeff Tweedy and co will always be there when times are tough, and finds the band in a relaxed and funny mode that’s a comforting change from their more raw and haunting work.

Indeed throughout the gig Tweedy affectionately bantered with the crowd, goading them into singing the sublime ‘Jesus, etc’, and then compared the performance favourably with their neighbours north of the border: “That was way better than Sydney. They were embarrassing.”

True to form, Wilco jumped and rollicked their way across a vast catalogue of contrasting styles and songs. The twang and echoes of alternative country on ‘Either Way’, and the experimental noise, bangs and crashes of ‘I Am Trying to Break Your Heart’, opened up vivid spaces to experience the hurt and fragility of romantic relationships.

Tweedy made these songs all the more engaging through his scratchy and committed vocals. ‘You Are My Face’ began gently before erupting into heavy, orgasmic guitar riffing that wove its way intelligently across a sonic landscape made vibrant by gentle piano and industrious, almost talkative percussion.

Of course, for much of the night the punters were singing drunkenly along to the rip-roaring, balls-to-the-wall fire of classics like ‘Monday’ and ‘Outta Site, Outta Mind’, but it was Wilco’s rendition of ‘Handshake Drugs’, from A Ghost Is Born, that perhaps best exemplifies their canny and quixotic heart.

The song itself is disarming. Warm and easy going, it sucks in the listener and then wryly turns the feel-good pop formula on its head through the tale of a faded man stuck on the treadmill of drug addiction. Nels Cline’s crazed, epileptic guitar interruptions embellished this calculated madness, giving the song an unhinged rawness that was intoxicating live. It was at this intersection of order and chaos that Wilco were most stunning.

‘Can’t Stand It’ was less successful. A bright and poppy opening number from Summerteeth, the song seemed too lose its edge last night and sounded muddy and dampened.

But that’s the beauty of Wilco – they take risks with their songs, turn them inside out and back-the-front, and for me any minor imperfection is worth the pay off of so many well crafted, spiky and infectious songs. Indeed it is an essential part of their creative process.

Wilco don’t pull any punches. Their songs render the stuff of life poignantly through a mess of beautiful noise, strange lyrics, crunchy guitar rock and stripped back pop hooks.

I put myself in credit card debt to go last night and see them rip their way through a feast of twenty-eight songs with warmth, humour and cheeky machismo. They’re a band not to be missed.

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