Same old thing we did last week

This entry began as a place holder for a more extensive account of my "Evening with Wilco" weekend finale in Pennsylvania.  Three quarters of the way through a very busy week, I have to acknowledge that a formal narrative just isn't in the cards.  Here, then, are various facts about my weekend in bite-sized chunks.  Bullet points: the lazy blogger's best friend.

• The weather last weekend was gorgeous.  A bit nippy in the shade in Philly, but that worked itself out by the end of the day.  I love how much further along they are with spring out there.  As you can see from the picture above, cherry blossoms were in full bloom.

• Heather and Russ took us to Reading Terminal Market in the early afternoon.  So much to see!  Such a long line for the ladies' room!  It reminded me fondly of other indoor markets I've visited over the years.  After gawking at the cake and candy counters after lunch, members of our party bought some amazing cookies for future snacking.  A wise choice.  

• Tamala and I toured the house where Edgar Allen Poe lived in Philadelphia, which was a short walk from the Electric Factory.  Our guide was very nice, but seemed to believe she knew Poe personally (and called him "Eggert.")  Perhaps she doesn't actually work there at all, but shows up on weekends in a homemade uniform to give tours.  I bought a Poe-stcard on the way out, passing up Poe-sters and books of Poe-try.  (I know.  I had a million of them.  Be grateful you weren't there.)

• We returned to the Electric Factory just in time to hear (from outside, but very clearly) a soundcheck full of cover songs.  They weren't being checked for any particular purpose, but even hearing the whole band play them through thin walls was good enough for me.  "A Fool Such As I," "The Losing End," "So Much Wine," "Thirteen."  Lap steel.  Sigh.

• Another crazy long show in Philly.  The band ended with a Mike-laptop "rave" version of "I'm A Wheel," and if you count that, thirty-nine songs.  Hot damn.  I happened to be looking back at a setlist from a few years ago, and they'd played about twenty songs.  Oh yes.  Officially spoiled for all time now.

• Because I see a lot of Wilco, I'm uncomfortable requesting songs unless specifically asked.  This means I don't make much use of the show-specific "request" feature on the band's website.  I've done it on occasion, but not more than once for a particular show, and then only rarely.  The odds are good I'll someday hear whatever it is I'm looking for, so I figure I shouldn't mess with anyone else's chance to hear a song they want.  That being said, I did request "That's Not the Issue" for the first Montclair show.  It wasn't played that night, but showed up a week later in Hartford.  Luckily for me, they played it one more time in Philly!  Long live the banjo!

• At some point Saturday night, I tried a sip of Tamala's Wilco Tango Foxtrot (WTF) beer.  Still not a beer fan.  Good to know.  I think Paul also wore a bull mask, but that could be the WTF talking.

• There was 2:00 a.m. cheesesteak.  

• Sunday morning, off to Pittsburgh.  We drove right through Amish country.  Almost stopped for shoofly pie, but thought better of it.  (Are you sensing a food theme here?  That's because on our trips, there almost always is a food theme.)

• I've been to Pittsburgh a couple times before, but never to the Pitt campus area.  I liked it very much.  It had more of an open, big-city feel than even the larger midwestern campuses I'm used to.  Everything seemed more substantial; more "real."  Museums, halls, parks, statues.  Outdoor dim sum/sushi/bubble tea pavilions.  There was also a carnival underway on Bigelow.  We narrowly missed an outdoor show by Jack's Mannequin!  We did see about twenty students wearing Jack's Mannequin shirts, though.

• Met up with hometown boy Kris and his friend before the show, and learned more about comics than I knew before.  Which was nothing.

• Carnegie Music Hall was much older and more ornate, and much smaller, than I'd been imagining.  It was beautiful inside, and we had a good view from the seventh row, but the show felt different from the previous general admission blowouts.  People alternated between sitting and standing, and didn't move much even when on their feet.  Happily, the sound quality made up for any weirdness in atmosphere.  Hearing every note clearly made the band playing "More Like the Moon" again that much sweeter.  The harmonies in "When You Wake Up Feeling Old" sounded excellent, too.

• I'd been planning all week to eat the hell out of a Primanti Brothers sandwich in Pittsburgh on Sunday, but we made the mistake of putting it off until after the show.  When we walked in, they announced they'd just sold their last two sandwiches.  Damn it!  Never fear; I got my quota of late-night crap food anyway: a superdog (with bacon and American cheese) and a mess of fries at The "O."  One of these days, Primanti Brothers.  One of these days.

I won't be seeing any more Wilco shows before August, so it was nice to get my fill of these "Evening With" concerts while I had the chance.  For now, it's on to other things.  I'm currently in the midst of a do-something-downtown-every-night week, which is fun but messes with stuff like laundry and grocery shopping and trying on my bridesmaid dress with various shoe pairings.  And packing ...  this weekend, Chicago.

Thank you friends

I took an Easter trip to New Jersey and Rhode Island this past weekend to see Wilco.  If you can believe it,  I almost volunteered to work instead.  I could've spent the holiday weekend in a Dakota (both on my list of states I've never visited) and taken some recovery time afterward.  But as I struggled to figure out a way to make it all work, I realized: what was I, crazy?  I already had two business trips scheduled.  I was really going to forego rock tourism to do a third in one month?  Nope.  Besides, I'd never been to Rhode Island, either.

Trust me, it was a great decision.

If you read this blog with any frequency, you may be aware that I see a lot of Wilco shows.  When the band announced an "Evening with Wilco" tour for March and April, the press promised extended sets spanning all of the band's releases.  Still, I was skeptical that the shows would be markedly different from those I'm used to.  No opening band is a sweet perk, but I've seen the band without an opener.  Those shows are typically longer, and often contain surprises, but I wouldn't say they're a different experience.

In order to conserve vacation time, I limited the scope to open weekend dates on my calendar.  New Jersey/Providence (three shows) and Philadelphia/Pittsburgh (two shows) were the contenders.  On one hand, a tidy weekend in Pennsylvania.  On the other hand, back-to-back shows in Montclair and my inaugural visit to RI.  All the while, there was the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that these shows truly might be unique.  Obviously, Wilco's "normal" show is incentive enough for me to take a trip.  But if these turned out to be different, I'd kick myself later - hard - for failing to maximize my opportunities.  So, both, then.  Two weekend trips, in the middle three months already full to bursting with plans.

Trust me, it was a great decision.

Over the two nights in Montclair, Wilco played 60 different songs.  Plus fifteen repeats.  Then another 36-song set in Providence, adding four new ones to the tally (five if you count Mike's "Easter Bunny" synth number) for a grand total of 111 songs performed over three nights.  Over nine hours of music.

When it comes to Wilco, I don't think I've felt quite so giddy as I did that first night in Montclair since the residency.  It was that sense of having no idea would come next.  Each show included a stripped-down, intimate set on mostly acoustic instruments, played at the front of the stage.  (This arrangement is expertly set up and broken down without interrupting the music.)  The setlists included new arrangements of songs I'd heard before, songs I'd never heard before, covers of Big Star (two!) and Buffalo Springfield songs, songs I'd dreamed about hearing again someday, and a side project song that I never thought Wilco would reprise as a full band.  They played "More Like the Moon!"  And "Dreamer in my Dreams" twice, with two different setups!  "Candyfloss!"  "Too Far Apart!"  "Laminated Cat!"  Pat played a banjo.  John played a standup bass.  Nels played an acoustic guitar.  They gave away gift certificates for free dinners.  The two nights in Montclair and the night in Providence - especially Montclair - more than exceeded my expectations.

Those were the shows, but there was also the tourism.  Providence seems to be a great town, and I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to explore it on a day that wasn't Easter Sunday.  Montclair also impressed - both Cafe Eclectic for drinks and Raymond's for brunch get a thumbs-up from me, and I could have spent hours in rooms upon rooms of the nearby bookstore.  Montclair had some great houses, and though we didn't see many residential areas of Providence, the old buildings were impressive.  Mail chutes!  Architectural details!  The weather was sunny and warm the entire time, too.  Sitting on the steps of Providence's City Hall at 12:30 a.m. with friends, cracking up, enjoying refreshments from the legendary silver truck parked nearby, I realized for the thousandth time how much I just plain love doing this.  I'm so glad I had the foresight to plan for another round next weekend.

Side trip

For a long time now, I've dreamed of taking a Route 66 road trip.  Gina and I made serious headway planning one back in 2005.  Sadly, it became clear that it would take a prohibitively long time to drive in both directions, yet be prohibitively expensive to rent a car one way and fly back home.  We settled for an abbreviated California road trip on Highway 1, which was wonderful.  Still, Route 66 beckons.

On my drive from Peoria to Wisconsin last Friday, I spotted a Route 66 museum ad on an exit sign.  I was conflicted: stop in Pontiac, IL on a whim to see what it had to offer, or scoot past Chicago before rush hour?  You probably don't need me to tell you that whim carried the day.  Click below for a photographic tour...

Last snow of the year

I'm not jinxing it!  It's just a fact.  Damn it.  Measurable accumulation at least.  Right?

This was the view from the country club where I attended Gina's bridal shower on Saturday.  It was a lovely time, Gina and Ryan received many fine things, and I'm realizing how close the wedding now is.  (Something of which I'm sure they are well aware.)  I wish my dress would ship already.  Stay tuned in coming weeks for stress about fittings and getting the entire outfit put together.  Wee!  But really, I am excited.  Lots of fun in store between now and early May. 

In my more immediate future, work.  Last time I went on a business trip, my destination was Beverly Hills.  Later this week I have another trip ... to Peoria.  Though this prospect is a little less thrilling, I have to admit that it's nice to not bother with flights and serious packing.  The older twin nephews' birthday party is this weekend, so I'll be squeezing in a family visit before coming home.  Must remember to wrap presents.

Apparently there is a river in Peoria, and my hotel is on it, so perhaps that will be nice?

Name me a song that everybody knows

Another post, another concert or two.  Over the weekend I visited the always wonderful (and this time cold and rainy) Chicago for a pair of Jeff Tweedy solo performances to benefit a youth scholarship fund.  I'm no stranger to these shows; this was my fourth year in attendance.  Still, I realize I can never predict the twists and turns each evening may take.

It's a well-established tradition now that the first thirty or so people in line each night get to pick the setlists for these concerts.  This leads to an eclectic group of songs: a mixture of the obscure b-sides Jeff always teases the crowd about, side project and former-band tunes, plenty of covers, and a few favorite staples.  We heard "Monkey Mess," a song written years ago by Jeff with his son's preschool class.  "Fake Plastic Trees," sounding ever more polished.  A new acoustic arrangement of "Poor Places."  A verse or two of a song popularized by Elvis Presley, "A Fool Such as I." The always-beautiful "More Like the Moon," with a slight lyrical variation that would only be noticed by a nerd such as I.   A brand new song Jeff wrote for Mavis Staples with a chorus of "You're not alone."  (That one wasn't a request, exactly, but came when an audience member asked Jeff what he would like to play.)  The song that surprised me most of all was "Shakin' Sugar," a Yankee Hotel Foxtrot-era outtake.  I would have never requested it, assuming it had no chance ... but I'm glad someone did.  And I'm certainly glad I was wrong.    

Impressing me most this year was the attention Jeff paid to playing all of the requests.  In the past, as far as I can recall, there have always been songs nixed or omitted, or alternate requests solicited.  Although one repeat song from Night 1 was not played on Night 2, I don't think anybody's choice was skipped this year.  Given how deep people dug for their requests, that's pretty remarkable.  My own request on Night 2 was a choice between two songs: either "Ashes of American Flags" from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, or "Single Ladies" by Beyoncé.  I'm pretty sure I expected Jeff to pick the former, but instead we were treated to a mostly spoken-word, entirely hilarious dramatic reading of "Single Ladies" in full.  Oh goodness.  You'd be surprised by how many different inflections can be put on the line "Don't be mad once you see that he want it."      

Concerts weren't the only thing going on in the city over the weekend, of course.  There's also this holiday called St. Patrick's Day, and Chicago is kind of into it.  My companions and I visited the green Chicago River, and I bought a shamrock lei from one of the many vendors in the Loop.  (Two for $1.00 if they can't get them untangled!)  We also enjoyed a delicious dim sum brunch on Sunday, with bubble tea for dessert.  I should get down to Chicago for a weekend more often than I do, really.  Good thing I have two more on the calendar within the next month and a half.  Next time, it should truly be spring.

Also see:
2009 (sort of)
2007

They say that this is where the fun begins

On Saturday I headed back to Milwaukee for my second show of the weekend, The Avett Brothers at the Riverside Theater.  The Avetts are a prime example of performers who have grown in popularity since I first saw them.  In fact, it happened in a very short period of time.  I heard Avett Brothers buzz around Emotionalism on 2007 end-of-year lists, but didn't get a chance to see them until October of last year.  That show was at the Barrymore in Madison.  Though I think it did sell out, it didn't do so until the night of the show.  Fast forward five months to Milwaukee.  The Avetts had been booked to play Turner Hall, capacity slightly higher than the Barrymore.  That venue sold out, and the show was moved to the two-and-a-half-times-larger Riverside.  Which also sold out in advance of the show.  Not bad, Avetts.

Inside the pit, we found spots up front with a great view of the stage.  The unassuming openers, The Low Anthem, impressed with their set.  Comparisons were drawn to Duluth's Low, and I could definitely hear that.  I'd like to see them in a smaller setting with less background chatter, but they did a good job with such a big place.

As mentioned above, this was only my second time seeing The Avett Brothers.  Last time, I half-assed a review of the show because I was busy, though I did enjoy it very much.  I specifically noted the infectious energy on stage, despite having been told that as Avett Brothers shows go it was a relatively tame outing.  This time, I felt even more energy from both band and crowd.  Curious, at first glance, since the Barrymore is so much smaller and more intimate than the Riverside.  Maybe it's a sign that the Avetts are truly ready to fill much bigger spaces.  The band - especially Scott Avett - took advantage of the larger stage: jumping up and down, parading along the stage's edge, even laying down a few feet from us while furiously strumming the banjo during the encore.  It may still be true that the Avetts of a few years ago were more of a spectacle, but perhaps they're ready to let their music do more of the talking.

If so, they did an admirable job.  On this tour the band has a designated drummer, allowing more instruments to blend together on songs that require it.  The majority of those are from last year's excellent I and Love and You.  Despite some more involved arrangements on these newer songs, most of the Avetts' tunes aren't overly complicated.  The word that comes to mind when I hear them is "pure."  Some are pure fun, others pure energy.  There's beauty and sadness and sweetness.  (A little goofiness sometimes, too.)  And it all comes through most clearly in the live setting.  Some of my favorite moments Saturday night came when the audience sang along loudly ... in fact, on songs like "The Perfect Space," you could say we screamed along.  In contrast, other favorite moments came when there were just one or two people on the stage, like Scott's solo turn for "Murder in the City."  My favorite song of the night was "Laundry Room," in which a quiet, almost delicate beginning becomes a full-fledged rave-up by the end.

Even before I'd seen their live show, I liked The Avett Brothers.  Each time I see them, I come away liking them more.  At this rate, even that crazy Bayfield show up north in July might become fair game.

There's no rest for the restless

My weekend of Milwaukee concerts began with a Friday night Rhett Miller show at Shank Hall.  Though I was a Shank Hall novice, I felt at home as soon as I walked in the door.  It was classic midwestern style; I could easily imagine fish fries or bingo games being held there on off nights.  The Spinal Tap theme added to the general ambiance.   

The cocktail seating in front of the small stage brought back memories of the first time I ever saw Rhett, at the Madison Music Awards in 2003.  That was a seated pit show at the Barrymore (I know; what?) and had previously marked the only time I'd ever watched Rhett or the Old 97's from a chair.  I did miss dancing during the fast songs, but there was much leg tapping and chair bouncing.  And the seats did little to diminish the crowd's singalong enthusiasm.

As typical for a solo performance, the show was a laid-back affair.  The staples were played with gusto - "Question" with the verse en français, "Rollerskate Skinny," "Time Bomb" - but Rhett also mined the back catalog for a few rarer nuggets.  He introduced one song as something he almost never plays, though people yell out for it a lot.  "Maybe they yell for it because they don't think I can play it."  The song, as it turns out, was "Ray Charles," and he certainly can play it.  It was a welcome treat, and one that surprised everyone - apparently including the guy who had requested it before the show.  Despite some jokes about the fourth wall, Rhett also honored a few more requests from the audience.  One was another tune I haven't heard much live, "St. Ignatius."  

Also as typical for a solo performance, there was some amusing banter.  Rhett shared tips on convincingly speaking a foreign language (choose an ethnic cartoon character and try to sound exactly like it).  His possibly sexist overuse of the word "girl" in lyrics was discussed, and why he's absolutely fine with that.  Friday night's performance of "Big Brown Eyes" was distinguished by Rhett pausing in the middle of the song to tell a story about the Old 97's recording with Waylon Jennings.  Let's just say I'll never hear "an elixir" the same way again.  Rhett went on to sing the entire third verse in the style of Waylon Jennings.  (Hey, he and Jon Brion should get togeth... oh, wait.)  

  All in all, Rhett played 27 songs before the night was through.  And after the performance, after changing into a non-sweaty shirt, he come out to chat with fans.  As he gamely signed shirts and ticket stubs, posed for pictures, and made friendly small talk, something occurred to me.  The majority of performers I've been seeing for more than a year or two have grown to fill bigger and bigger venues.  For many of them, informally chatting with fans at the bar after shows is but a distant memory.  Then there's the other, sadder end of that spectrum: bands who used to fill large rooms and now introduce the queen of the county fair before playing to a smattering of diehard fans and incidental observers.  But Rhett Miller and the Old 97's are playing essentially the same venues I've been seeing them in since 2003.  They haven't blown up.  They haven't gotten noticeably less popular.  If they were to suddenly sell millions of albums and start playing the Overture Center, don't get me wrong, I'd be thrilled for them.  And I know long-term consistency in audience size probably isn't something performers exactly strive for.  But I have to admit I find it comforting just the same.  

Rhett Miller Shank Hall Setlist:
Like Love 
Barrier Reef 
Won't Be Home 
Wish the Worst 
Help Me, Suzanne 
Nobody Says I Love You Anymore 
Salome 
No Baby I 
Four-Eyed Girl 
Nineteen 
If It's Not Love 
Ray Charles 
Sometimes 
Question (final verse in French) 
Designs on You 
Haphazardly 
Rollerskate Skinny (dedicated to J.D. Salinger) 
The Other Shoe 
I Need to Know Where I Stand 
Fireflies 
Dance With Me 
St. Ignatius 
Big Brown Eyes (w/Waylon Jennings story, 3rd verse in style of Waylon Jennings) 
Our Love 
------------------- 
Another Girlfriend 
Four Leaf Clover 
Time Bomb