A hundred ghosts waited for something to happen.
They didn’t wait long; the lights dimmed and the soothing murmur of the crowd below the stage began to rise into a crashing crescendo of cheers.
The ghosts, which in the previously well-lit auditorium had appeared to just be artfully arranged rows of white knotted fabric hanging above and behind the stage, suddenly burst into brilliant life as they danced in the shadows of the psychedelic kaleidoscope of colors projected onto them in lieu of a screen.
Standing behind the crowd one could see the rainbow spectacle happening on stage reflected dozens of times like a backward mirror in a surrealist painting, as fans snap pictures with their camera phones.
“I can’t be so far away from my wasteland/ I’ll never know when I might ambulance/ Or hoist the horns with my own hands/Almost… almost…/” crooned singer Jeff Tweedy to the hypnotized audience that swayed and bobbed in place like waves lapping at his feet.
This was Wilco’s grand return to Spokane on February 6.
It’s a long way from where the Chicago-native band began 15 years ago.
Wilco has its roots in the acclaimed alternative country outfit Uncle Tupelo. After Tupelo’s lead singer left the band because of creative differences, co-singer Jeff Tweedy stepped forward to take the reins, and along with his band-mates Tupelo was resurrected as Wilco.
Wilco has come to distinguish itself from its predecessor with a line-up that has changed radically over the years, and a sound that would evolve just as much, beginning with the critically lauded fourth album “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.”
“Foxtrot” would help Wilco rise from the genre of critically acclaimed bands with small fan bases to a more mainstream market, with the album landing number 13 on the Billboard Top 200.
However, commercial success would not hamper the band’s creativity over the years, leading some to dub it “the American Radiohead.” Following “Foxtrot,” Wilco’s various releases would change in directions, ranging from sunny melodic folk to spacier experimental albums.
“The Whole Love,” Wilco’s latest effort seems to marry these different elements.
Wilco chose the INB Performing Arts Center both of the times it visited Spokane, a choice that would allow it to use the stage in a theatrical manner a smaller space might not have allowed.
Each song in the 25-song concert had it’s own special light show and projection combination, ranging from the acid-sunshine yellow and indigo accented rendition of Wilco’s “I Might,” to the drama of the of the gritty, splattered red and gray finale, “Shot In the Arm.”
Surprises colored the show, with giant humming birds projected at close range adding an eerie, yet romantic feeling, and something as simple as strobe lights turning drummer Glenn Kotche into a larger than life shadow, looming over the audience.
At certain points the hanging white set pieces would cease to be ghosts as they flashed bright with the light bulbs hidden inside, and revealed themselves as a heavenly host of angels during the peak of a few songs, as rapt audience members sang along softly as a gentle choir.
While the band barely acknowledged its audience during the first half of its set, too engrossed in playing as if expelling some frantic energy, Tweedy would later pause between songs to address his fans, almost shy in attempts to amuse and appease.
Although he would joke that he had to play songs off of albums nobody likes because Wilco gives equal opportunity to all its material, he introduced “Jesus, Etc” as the song that was most requested by Spokane fans, although he alluded few had made requests at all.
“Thirteen or fourteen of you are about to get excited!” Tweedy said.
Despite this disclaimer, cheers erupted all over the auditorium, and it was perhaps this kind of enthusiasm that prompted Wilco to play a whooping six song encore.
Looking around at the sea of faces, it became easy to see why Wilco is sometimes jokingly referred to as “Dad Rock.” Despite the healthy number of college and high school aged faces dotting the crowd, the majority appeared to be groups of thirty–something men, occasionally accompanied by bemused wives or girlfriends. While the whole crowd cheered, these men were the ones who screamed, while the audience sang along, these were the men that knew every treasured word by heart.
Seeing their devotion, it’s no wonder in recent interviews Tweedy has said he now embraces the label.
As the set began to draw to a close, Tweedy finally began to reflect on the band’s absence from the city since their 2008 tour.
“What has it been, two years? Three years? Four years?” he asked.
“Too long ago!” shouted back a man’s voice from the midst of the crowd.
Here’s hoping Wilco doesn’t make them wait long again.
