Okay, first I want to preface this by saying, I have been waiting since Spring for this show. Correction, I have been waiting for about 8 years to see Wilco and all my life to see Bob Dylan. So if I offend with this review, dear readers should first know how much it kills me to have to criticize. But here we go with the truth as I saw it on June 29th in Atlanta......
I'm not a Dead Head. Never have been. When I read that Bob Weir was on the tour my husband had to tell me who he was. And I thought his solo part of the show was cool as I could see that many were enjoying it. I'm all for the hippies jamming out and doing their crazy little dances. Go for it, fans, and go for it, Bob Weir. More power to all of you. And I also thought it was cool that the subsequent bands were inviting Bob out to jam with them. (Bob Weir, not Dylan, and there is a huge distinction here that I will get into shortly.) I think that is really being respectful on their parts and also a great opportunity to jam with a legend that they probably look up to. Who wouldn't want to do that?
Wilco, Wilco, Wilco. I'm just not sure what to say. You know I love you. Just look at all the tags you have on this blog. But last night......I just don't know. Yeah, you played well. Nels was on fire with his playing. Jeff's voice sounded great. The whole band sounded great, but something was just missing. You played like it was a job.....like you were all coworkers and you didn't even like each other. You didn't dig on each other. You didn't even smile much. Only Pat looked like he was having fun with his rock star moves. At the end of one song, Nels was pulling out his cord to get his next guitar while Jeff was still pulling out the feedback. And don't even get me started on the 20 minute love fest with Bob Weir. I think collaborations are cool, but it was just. too. long. I wish they had spent more of that time playing Wilco hits. THEY are who I came to see. Not Bob Weir. I've asked myself if maybe I just put too much idealism into seeing Wilco for the first time and was destined to be let down. I don't know. I think I would only want to see them again under two circumstances: a smaller venue and as headliners. I wanted their songs. Not someone else's. And FYI, just take a look at Wilco's Facebook page and you will see I was not alone in these feelings. Oh, and just ask the Wilco nerds sitting in front of me at the show. They had a real bone to pick when Wilco ended without an encore and even called out "bullshit". Us Wilco fans have strong feelings, what can I say?
And btw, all of the above photos (with the exception of Wilco) were not from the Atlanta show and were not taken by me. Why? The oh so strict policy of not photo or video taking. Is it a policy of all bands or just Wilco and Bob? A woman even came out on the stage before Dylan came out and asked for people to not watch the show "behind screens". Cool. I get it. And I agree. But legislating that? Having guys in staff shirts walk around all evening and tell people to put their cameras down? Sheesh. "Keep a clean nose, watch the plain clothes" for sho, Mr. Dylan.
(And I have no idea who took the against-the-rules Wilco pic, but I stole it from their FB page. So it looks like SOMEBODY was allowed to take pictures. Suck on that, Aaron's Amphitheater camera buttholes!)
Maybe I'm just getting too old. Or maybe I'm still just young enough to have too much idealism. Maybe to all those guys, they played a perfect show last night. And maybe other fans thought so too. I just felt really let down. Maybe I just need to listen to these bands on my I-Pod and have my own magical relationship with them that can't be spoiled by hippies or amphitheater staff members.
So that was my Saturday night with Bob. And Bob. And Wilco and My Morning Jacket in Atlanta. But I think I would have rather stayed in North Carolina with the husband and just played them on vinyl. But I do still love them all and thank them for what they have given music and given me. It's a gift. A true gift. And that is always worth something even if you have an occasional "off" night.