Friday, October 20, 2006

Now I know how Kim Jong Il feels...

Ah yes, the proverbial "morning after" post...

Some thoughts on Wilco's show at the 9:30 Club last night:

1) There are some bands that are just so consistently solid that there's really no point in trying to review them. Peal Jam is one of these bands, and yes, Wilco is another. I'm not trying to say that these two bands are similar in any way; what I'm trying to say is that you're rarely let down when you buy a ticket to one of their shows, because the odds are very good that your high expectations will be met. And anyone who would be taking the time to read a review of one of their performances is probably a big enough fan that they've seen them in person themselves, so they already know what a Wilco or a Pearl Jam show sounds like. In short, I'm not going to waste my time and your time doing a song-for-song overview of the show, because you already know that it was very good, and that it was exactly what a Wilco show should be.

2) I made it through the show alive, and intact. I know some were concerned for my safety, what with Tweedy getting all Hulk on us, but the concert went off without incident. It's pretty S.O.P. for concerts in DC, but he did go through the typical "fuck the government" routine during one of his banter sessions, mentioning that we have the best and the worst in this town: beautiful buildings with terrible people working in them, etc. But no angry republicans/hill staffers stormed the stage, and the riot gear could remain in the closet for one more night.

3) Big, sweaty, hunch-backed guy with the GIGANTIC head wearing the khaki shorts and the Nike Dry-Fit long-sleeve t-shirt? Yeah, I'm looking at you. I know you're drunk, and I know you're buying those two lesbians a ton of drinks, and they're being nice to you, but let me save you some time and money: it ain't happening, brah. You might be too wasted to realize this, but somebody had to break the news to you.

4) Also, big, sweaty, hunch-backed guy with the GIGANTIC head in the work-out clothing, can you tell your friends to shut up? I really, really hate being that guy that gets all pissy about loud concert attendees, but there are a lot of people who spent a lot of money to be here ($80 - $160 per ticket on Craig! You've gotta be shitting me!), and most of them didn't realize that "Radio Cure" had backing vocals with the slurred lyrics, "DUDE! This shot fucking sucks, bro! Red Headed Sluts, dude. That's a fucking shot," and "Hey pussy, drink up! Put it back! PUSSY!" You and your obnoxious posse have spent the entire show over by the snack bar where you can't even see the stage, taking shots, ordering drinks, and macking on lesbians. There's a little place in Arlington called Whitlow's where this is acceptable behavior. I know they might sound similar, but the 9:30 Club with Wilco performing is not Whitlow's.

5) Was anyone else struck by how many tall dudes there were at the show last night? I don't think any studies have been done, but Wilco might have the tallest average fan of any band in America.

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