JACKSON, Wyo. — Wilco is always trying to break our hearts — subtly and hushed at first, mid-tempo growly in the middle, and then absolute in-control, freak-out rock ‘n’ roll after sunset with some of the most ace and dynamic instrumental interplay you’ll hear in rock. On a gorgeous, warm August night at King Concerts atop Snow King Mountain — a new favorite outdoor venue for many — Wilco proved once again that they are sustaining a lengthy “prime,” co-existing with a legacy of penned bangers while pushing the envelope into new territory and pumping our rock-fisted heartstrings along the way.
Clocking-in at nearly three hours, this was a (welcomed) lengthy show. Not for Wilco —especially as “an evening with,” but generally. The 85-minute, 17-song first set felt like the musical arc had set perfectly with the sun beams over the Tetons, though as frontman Jeff Tweedy joked toward the end of set one, “Can you believe we still have a whole other set to play?”
Set one opener, “Story to Tell,” from 2022’s “Cruel Country,” has been a consistent opener on this tour. And for what it’s worth, the set lists have also been fairly consistent from show-to-show, with a few rotation spots. First words to the audience, “I’ve been through hell/On my way to hell/I only fought with myself/So I’d have a story to tell/Once, I cut off my arm/I sewed it back on all wrong/Now I don’t have to bend/To reach the bottom shelf/When I need a story to tell,” is classic Tweedy many of us have come to love — bizarre, sometimes dark lyrical offerings that strike a relatable chord for its comedic edge, poetic delivery and a singular angle of story-song composition and wordplay.
The set began to stretch with the show’s memorable peak of intensity within “Spiders (Kidsmoke),” which has an infectious, greasy energy and singable refrain; highlighted by the electric guitar interplay of Nels Cline and Pat Sansone that showcased masterful weaving. Other highlights included two Woody Guthrie/Billy Bragg/Wilco tunes, a lead vocal cameo by bassist John Stirratt on early Wilco tune “It’s Just That Simple,” and the crowd praise of epic favorites “Via Chicago” and closer, “Hummingbird.”
The vibe of this band’s interplay is always a treat to watch from the first few rows. The band was genuinely having a great time, and Tweedy regularly joked with the crowd in between songs. As a self-proclaimed “Wilco nerd,” Wyoming singer-songwriter J. Shogren reflected on this show after seeing them a few other times this year, “Tweedy smiled more than I have ever witnessed, which seemed to act like a release valve on the pressure cooker — three hours let them stretch out and take chances.”
Set two and encore were decidedly more electric and gritty, with Tweedy showcasing his lead electric guitar prowess amongst a triple electric guitar attack that never felt too dense or overcooked in its layering. It’s not a knock on high-energy, incredibly played crowd favorites “Jesus, Etc.,” “Heavy Metal Drummer” and “I’m the Man Who Loves You” to hone-in on what was arguably one of the show’s greatest apex moments: “Impossible Germany.” There are beautifully composed moments in the latter, with various stretches of improvisational tension-and-release.
Wilco is not considered a jamband (they probably wouldn’t like that tag), but when they choose to indulge in modal exploration, the unforced patience allows for a certain freedom that can only evolve from years of brewed stage chemistry. Of course, Cline’s guitar solo was a scorcher, while the innovative drumming of Glenn Kotche kept the sets of waves coming in for us to audibly surf. This band is a sum of its six parts, with some more understated than others, the latter providing the glue that takes maturity and focus to both maintain foundational nuance and propel collective liftoff. “Bird Without a Tail/Base of My Skull” was evidence of this, allowing more keen interplay between guitarists Cline and Sansone.
The three-song encore was capped by the evening’s lone cover, The Grateful Dead’s “U.S. Blues,” a singalong for the times and hitting the mark for crossover fans of both bands. Like an old friend that looks you up after years of pause, experiencing Wilco every few years throughout a three-decade trajectory is a steady diet of healthy creative progressions, worthy of a soulful toast.
“Turn the lights up in the back,” Tweedy asked toward the end of set two. “I’ve never seen this many people leave our show. Is the Gondola closing?” He smiled at the sold-out audience and thanked the fans close to stage for sustaining. It’s not you, Jeff, it’s us. We’re just trying to break your heart.
