LUCIDMEDIA

When I think of Wilco I think of an everyman's band. Almost anyone can listen to their songs and find an element that they can latch onto; whether it be Jeff Tweedy's stretched vocals, Nels Cline's furiously pounding guitar work, or Mikael Jorgensen's inventive piano rolls, there is something for everyone. If there is going to be a new wave in popular music, I pray to John Lennon that it's got something of Wilco's stature. 

For those a little unfamiliar with Wilco: the band is a six piece alternative rock/country rock group hailing from Chicago and St. Louis. The group has been making music for some time now and their achievements include crafting one of the finest records of 2002, the now revered Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The group's members range from different backgrounds, and for once they all didn't meet in high school and carry on through to the industry; these guys are professional musicians, some session musicians, some just talented avant-garde Jazz rockers. None of them hold a really namesake stance of fame, and they don't flaunt a kind of glamorous attitude; they're musicians and they look and play the part. 

It was a real pleasure to hear that Wilco would be cruising through London Ontario and I figured it was about time to see what they were really about. 

Centennial Hall is more like a town hall than a concert hall, but these are the shows Wilco does; just as Sufjan Stevens would rather play in a church than a stadium, the setting merits the performance. Milling around in the Hall I noticed the eclectic variety of listeners. Some people were younger adults sporting backpacks, trendy glasses, and long frizzy hair. Others were much older, with greying hair and round turtle shell glasses. Even more were just your average couples; living and working in Canada who haven't given up their inclination to respond to, and enjoy, live musicians. 

Wilco took to the stage modestly and the crowd roared in excitement as they shot right into the first song, "There's A Light", a new song which rips you apart from the inside out. The music can put you into a kind of trance and Jeff Tweedy has the ability to involve everyone in his words. He isn't just singing, he is singing to you and you can feel it. The crowd filled 3/4 of the floor, with the balconies full, but it might have seemed like, all at once, everyone in the world was listening, and then again like you were the only one there. A celestial sensation was able to overtake you as they played "Far, Far Away", and the crowd responded to every word of Tweedy's; every lick of Cline's; every beat of Glenn Kotche's; every single note. A certain frizzy haired young-adult in-front of me would grow more and more excited as each song seamlessly segued into the next; it was as if he was thinking "I can't believe they're playing this song!" to nearly every song. 

What is nice about Wilco is their knowledge of what makes music good. They are just like an artist, playing with light only they are sonic artists. Contrasts made the songs leap at you like beams of lightning, and then solemn and calm tunes overtook you like swimming down a lonely river. Each member was able to give their own voice to the music while maintaining the "just a jam session" feel of the concert. You could very easily tell that these six guys were friends and were out to accomplish the same goal: to play music well. 

It's not very often that you come out from a concert more awe-struck, but calmer, than when you went in. What happens, more often than I would like, is either: I have a very bad itch I can't seem to scratch, like something unwanted crawled under my skin, or I am excited and my head is pounding with rhythm. Very rarely have I actually been moved by the music because of its effect on my mind; however, Wilco can probably be the exception to this rule.