Wilco in Hippiesville

Wilco is not a jamband. If I had to guess, I’d say that they are probably capable of improvisational jamming, and there’s no question that they can most definitely rock out.  Their current lead guitarist, Nels Cline, even has legitimate avant-garde/experimental/improv cred from other projects, but he wasn’t in the band when they were booked to play the two-day Mountain Aire Festival with the likes of Phil Lesh, Mickey Hart, and Galactic in 1999.  Never one to pass up an opportunity for awkwardly humorous stage banter, Jeff Tweedy rose to the occasion and relentlessly brought attention to the discrepancy between the alt-country rock band on stage and the groovy jamband fans in the audience.  This song is a perfect microcosm of that dynamic and also shows why Wilco probably left the stage that evening with a few new hippy fans. 

At different points throughout the set, Tweedy accuses the audience, the sound guy, and the guitar tech of being stoned.  I’m sure it was all in good fun (Tweedy himself was a heavy pot user through the A.M. recording sessions, a habit he picked up when he quit drinking), but it still helps conjure up the image of all the blank stares the band must have been receiving from a crowd trying to dance on the lawn.  In an attempt to get their attention earlier in the set, Tweedy promised some “hippie jamming” and, impressed by the audience’s reaction to the first half of “Casino Queen” (”Maybe you guys haven’t been smoking so much pot today”), they come through on that promise when John Stiratt launches into the bass line of the “Black Magic Woman” jam.

Wilco is even tighter, usually

It’s not exactly a show-stopping performance.  They transition awkwardly from the jam > sort of out of the jam > back into the jam; Jay Bennett’s guitar work is shreddy but a bit repetitive; and Tweedy cleverly bafflingly replaces the “woman” lyric with “marker” to signal their return back to “Casino Queen.”  They are no Grateful Dead, to be sure.  But the song still highlights two of Wilco’s greatest strengths: Jeff Tweedy’s songwriting abilities and the fact that the band is as tight as Chris Cooley’s practice shorts (when they’re playing their own material at least).  And that’s something that even Deadheads can appreciate.

In true karmic fashion, the set ends with Phil Lesh joining the group on stage for a performance of “Ripple.” Like a true stoner, Tweedy can’t remember the words.