An Ode to Wilco
by Gabby Estlund
Photos by Sid Peterson
The Paramount Theater was graced by Wilco’s presence this past Friday, and it was a performance not soon to be forgotten. Having never been to the theater, the neoclassical structure left me speechless. The seats were the deep color of red roses, just like the massive stage curtains draped on either side of the performance area. Elegant gold accents and stained glass lighting fixtures decorated the walls. The ceiling made me swoon with its teals and cool pinks weaved into the elaborate architecture. A little part of me imagined I was back in the 1920s, donning a cocktail dress and getting ready to catch an orchestra performance.
Dick Prall of Dickie
Photo by Sid Peterson
Before I jump into Wilco, I need to draw attention to the opener, Dickie, a Cedar Rapids-duo comprised of Dick Prall, the lead vocalist, and Billy Barton, who takes care of drums, percussion, and supporting vocals. The bearded, blazer-wearing little group got me in the mood for Wilco. Let me rephrase that: Dickie got me in the mood for what I thought I was going to hear from Wilco. More on that later. Prall, a white-haired, clean-cut man, moved something in my soul. His voice was a combination of Passenger, the Neighborhood, and Bob Dylan, with just a little bit of a country twang thrown in for good measure. The musicians subtly rocked their bodies with the rolling melodies that flowed from their basses and drums.
As the crew scurried around to ready the stage for Wilco, I observed the audience. The demographic was largely middle-aged people. Most were couples, but there were groups of friends and solo patrons as well. I ended up being seated next to a Design Fundamentals teacher I’d had in the past, and we hit it off. On the other side of me sat a guy who, already tipsy when I arrived, proceeded to spill his entire beer on the people in front of him. I wanted to shrivel up and die of embarrassment for him. Behind me, two guys chatted about their excitement for a Grateful Dead album. I realized I was likely one of the youngest people in the crowd.
Let me be candid here -- I didn’t realize what I was getting myself into when I decided to cover Wilco, but I mean that in a good way. They are a band of expertise, excitement and well-organized chaos that I was not fully aware of prior to seeing them live. Normally, I do a decent amount of research before attending a show, like watching interviews and scouring Wikipedia pages about the artists, but this time I wanted it to be a more natural experience. I’d had some of their top songs like “Jesus, Etc.” and “California Stars” saved in my Spotify library from years ago when I first discovered them, but I hadn’t listened to those tunes for several months. In the days leading up to the show, I had their albums on repeat in an attempt to realign myself with their lyrics.
Nels Cline of Wilco
Photo by Sid Peterson
Wilco took the venue by storm as part of their Ode to Joy tour, and the Cedar Rapids audience did not disappoint. With a maximum capacity of about 1,700 patrons, the concert sold out, and for good reason. The musicians had great stage presence and managed the crowd’s energy amazingly. The band busted out a set of nearly 30 songs, heavily laden with crazy improvisation from Nels Cline, one of the guitarists in the six-man ensemble, and hauntingly-good vocals from lead singer Jeff Tweedy. At one point, an ecstatic fan threw his shirt emblazoned with the band’s song title “I Might” at the stage in hopes that the band would play it. Tweedy responded with a playful, “Wow, now you don’t have a shirt. Look what you did! And we’re still not gonna play it!” The audience ate it up.
For several songs, the musicians interrupted their smooth rhythms with harsh, frenzied juxtapositions that included dramatic light shows and headbanging drum beats. I’d heard Wilco was good live, but I underestimated that statement. They entranced me with their perfectly synchronized cuts into insane guitar and drum solos. Before beginning their ninth song of the night, “White Wooden Crosses,” Tweedy addressed the audience. “Are you guys having a good time?” Of course, the crowd responded with an uproar. “Well, that’s good. We’re about to play the song about roadside memorials. Just something to think about while you’re having a good time.” The audience chuckled, and the beat began.
A white wooden cross by the side of the road / One someone lost that I did not know / What would I do? / What would I do? / If a white wooden cross meant that I lost you
In these moments, the energy would change from lullabies of their melancholic tunes to controlled mayhem that made me think they might pull a classic Pete Townshend of The Who! and smash a guitar on stage. Luckily, their shiny, expensive instruments were left intact.
Jeff Tweedy of Wilco
Photo by Sid Peterson
For almost the entirety of their performance, a lone woman from the audience danced in front of the stage. I was awed by her, swinging her arms carefree above her head and moving her body to Wilco’s music. After finishing a tune, Tweedy delivered a comment directed to the woman’s partner, who was still seated. “You’re just gonna leave her hanging'? C’mon dude!” And the man obeyed. For the rest of the night, the couple could be seen stealing kisses from each other and ignoring everyone else.
Those two inspired a hoard of others to make it to the front, with a bunch of middle-aged white dudes donning the quintessential head-bop as their dance move of choice. Wilco has a way of bringing everyone together that immerses listeners in the present. The unexpected nature of their performance made it impossible for me to tear my eyes away. They fostered an air of acceptance and were intentional with every musical choice they made. Quiet moments between songs afforded concertgoers the opportunity to spill their excitement and admiration for Wilco, their shouts and cheers bouncing off the walls of the theater.
Watching Wilco perform live felt like being let into a secret club, and what I heard on Spotify pales in comparison to the way they bring the stage to life. After their 25th song, they sauntered off stage, only to return a few moments later for an encore of four more, ending the night with “I’m A Wheel.” Wilco is a group of true performers whose prowess in the music industry is more than evident. If an opportunity arises to see them live, do it. Be a part of their secret club.