via SMH
Watching a Wilco show is a bit like trying to decide what to see at an Australian music festival; too much talent scattered around the place and only one set of eyes through which to see it all. As much as they are about the intense, smoky drawl of front man Jeff Tweedy, Wilco is also a band of seriously overqualified musicians. The solid comfort of their repertoire is given proper legs at the Opera House, delighting their older fans and most likely scaring the living daylights out of the fresh ones.
There’s not a lot that Wilco won’t try, and given the formidable breadth of expertise on the stage, there’s not a lot they can’t do, either. Their set alternates between sensitive, country-inspired balladry and all out, face-melting crunchers like Art of Almost, replete with the kind of ludicrous guitar solos that would be more at home at Woodstock.
They’re equally adept at both, but it’s hard to go past the upper-octave triple fret attack of Impossible Germany. For a moment, it looks like the roof might actually tear off.
Knowing the ins and outs of Wilco’s extensive back catalogue isn’t even an imperative here. Their music is instantly accessible and aurally stimulating enough to succeed simply on its own merit.
Tweedy’s initial reticence in the spotlight is offset perfectly by demigod guitarist Nels Cline, probably the best hire Tweedy ever made. Seeing the middle-aged man pull screaming wails of white noise out of his guitar is far and away the most entertaining part of an incredibly entertaining performance. And Tweedy is just as good, not to mention the excellent drummer Glen Kotche, who beats out complicated rhythms while holding a shaker in one hand and a host of other percussion paraphernalia in the other.
Once writers get over the “alternative” tag, we’ll finally be able to appreciate Wilco for what they really are; one of the most consistent rock bands America has produced in the last 20 years. They don’t talk much, but they don’t have to. “We’re gonna try and keep the chit-chat to a minimum,” jokes Tweedy “because we don’t have enough fucking time.”
Ain’t that the truth.
-Jono Seidler
