Wilco Memories and Musical Footprints
July 24, 2012: It was one of those overwhelmingly joyful nights. The kind you get to have when not dealing with anything too burdensome, like a life threatening illness. No worries, just perfect summer weather as my friends and I prepared for what would be my first Wilco concert.
Going in, I didn’t know much about the indie-rock band but I’ll never forget watching lead guitarist Nels Cline work his magic. His style was unlike anything I’d seen before… So primal and raw, as if he’d tossed all scales and musical guidelines to the side. During “Impossible Germany” and “Art Of Almost”, Nels unleashed solos resembling controlled chaos more than anything else and worked the dynamics like a maestro, blowing our minds with one explosive crescendo after the next. That, accompanied by lead singer Jeff Tweedy’s emotional vocal style won me over as an instant fan.
October 7, 2019: Things aren’t quite as happy-go-lucky these days. Cancer has wrecked havoc on both my world as well as Tweedy’s, whose wife has been battling non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. The fight has clearly taken its toll, as shown in Jeff’s songwriting which has veered even more ominous over the years. I still consider Wilco concerts a ‘must see’ event though, partly due to the nostalgia and partly because they’re incredible live performers. In fact, I’m as excited as ever to see them play at Radio City next week.
To prep for the show, I throw on headphones and lock in to Ode to Joy, Wilco’s latest album. It’s a pretty melancholic listen and at first this drives me away… but I’m committed and settle in soon enough. I even make sure to follow along with the lyrics, which are minimalist and leave room for interpretation. The whole experience reminds me of an idea I once read, where you think of musical notes as footprints and that by listening intently or replicating them, you can feel exactly what the artist felt at the time.
Right around when I get to “Love is Everywhere (Beware)”, the closest the album has to a single, it all hits home. Something about the angst in Jeff’s voice layered with Nel’s laser-like riffs strikes just the right chord in me. I actually shed a few tears- not necessarily of sadness or joy; more like tears of “I get it, man. Life can be heavy and cancer is especially brutal on family.”
It was the cathartic release I didn’t know I needed. Better than any drug; that feeling of aliveness and connection. Another reminder that art can heal and bring us together.
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