the sun was hot and the sun was bright

I've never been to Hawaii, though I live in the state that probably has the most direct line to the island paradise. Well, guess what finally got me there? If you said a Jeff Tweedy and/or Wilco show, then you have been paying attention (and, understandably, silently judging). Give yourself a gold star!

Jeff Tweedy, Hawaii Theatre, August 4, 2011: I have no problem admitting that my main impressions of Hawaii were formed by the Brady Bunch episodes where they grappled with Vincent Price and a cursed tiki idol. (Bonus: Don Ho shows up!) In an eerie coincidence, our group sustained a handful of injuries, including a surfing accident, just like Greg Brady. However, also like America's favorite family, a few members of my tour group had dinner with -- in a manner of speaking -- the would-be abductor. It's a clear case of life imitating art, right?



In my mind, this trip was the companion piece to Wilco's Alaska sojourn from a few years ago for obvious reasons: late statehood, distance from the lower 48, and general exotics. You could draw a parallel in at least one other regard, as well; the crowd was incredibly enthusiastic. In fact, the fellow sitting three seats down from me appeared to be jumping out of his skin and felt compelled to relay his giddiness to me. As soon as Jeff took the stage, the guy pumped up his cred with a request for "New Madrid" (which was played, complete with one tiny lyrical slip-up).

This zeal showed in other ways, most audibly in the relentless clapping from all over the room. Unfortunately, the crowd's efforts mostly crashed and burned, either proving unsustainable or simply veering off-tempo, and not even Jeff's direct requests could stop them. Eventually, Jeff's words sunk in, though one lone holdout to our left couldn't hold himself back.

At this point, I probably sound like a Grumpy Gus, but that's not my intention at all. I actually enjoyed the outbursts, awkwardness, and banter. The struggle between Jeff and the audience never became distracting, and clearly, the crowd just wanted to show their appreciation for such a rare gig. We even enjoyed a lot of accidental comedy, including a perfectly timed clang of a smartphone just before Jeff sang "I'm assuming you got my message on your machine" from "Muzzle of Bees." In fact, the singer giggled through several points of the show, and I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've seen Jeff kiss a picture of himself (on the cover of the local free weekly) onstage.

If you've seen enough Wilco shows, you may know that they often play a rudimentary setlist when they first come to a new town. We expected the same of Jeff and his Hawaiian debut, but give him credit -- he broke out a number of songs that the average fan wouldn't recognize, such as "Not for the Season" and "So Much Wine." The respectful silence that accompanied these tracks spoke volumes, especially compared to the whoops and cries that welcomed the likes of "Via Chicago" and "Hummingbird." And in a directed nod to the state itself, Jeff prefaced "Someday Some Morning Sometime" with the statement that it always reminded him of Hawaii.

I'm not sure if the crowd at the Hawaii Theatre realized the unique formation that played for us when Pat Sansone (who opened the show with a solo set composed of Autumn Defense songs and covers) joined Jeff for the encore. Pat donned an acoustic guitar and supplied harmonies to a handful of tracks, including a couple of titles from the forthcoming Wilco album. I can't tell you how many times I'll be hearing these songs when the band is back on the road to promote the new record, but I'm pretty sure I won't get to take in the same treatment again.

I have to cite one more wholly singular memory of this show: the several leis draped across the monitor for the artists. Jeff remarked on their fragrance, and he wasn't kidding -- I caught a whiff of them toward the evening, and they were still going strong. Jeff at first resisted the accessories, but in the end, he finally relented, sharing them with Pat.

I feel compelled to report that we squeezed in plenty of other activities, including a trip to the North Shore, a fantastic gourmet dinner, and lots of shaved ice. Next time, we're doing Diamond Head!

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» choo choo charlie had a plenty good band

hold a private light on a michigan shore

The thumb--that's what I was told, though it turned out to be closer to the cuticle bed (see below). A fish boil, custard, primo seats, and a welcome confluence of friends were also promised, and that's how I ended up with a snug little sojourn to Wisconsin--specifically, Fish Creek--to see Jeff Tweedy at the Door County Auditorium.

Jeff Tweedy, Door County Auditorium, July 8, 2011: I'm the very picture of summer right now. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean sun-flecked tresses and a bikini body. Instead, I'm peeling on top, while my legs are dotted with mosquito bites, all for the love of music. I brought the former upon myself by forgoing sunblock at the Neko Case gig and contracted the latter at the Jeff Tweedy show in Fish Creek, Wisconsin (actually, in the run-up to the concert itself). If I can pick up a case of Lyme disease, say, at Outside Lands, my season will be complete. At least we didn't get electrocuted at Solid Sound?

Now that I'm home with a bottle of calamine lotion and have stopped swatting at myself, I can unequivocally say Fish Creek is irresistibly charming, in the style of remote resort destinations all over the country. For me, it brought to mind Cambria along California's central coast; you could also compare it to the Hamptons in New York, except with its own signature attractions, such as the fish boil mentioned previously.



One of the small pleasures of rock tourism is hearing a song perfectly matched to the surroundings. The opening "Spiders," which I always love in its acoustic form, was an aha moment, but that may be more due to my ignorance of local geography. The natives and other nearby denizens were probably much more aware that we were minutes away from Lake Michigan, obliquely referenced in the tune.

It appears that most people want to know about the new songs, and according to our go-to setlist guy, four new titles were played. As reported by Jeff, "I Might" qualifies as an "international hit"; I suspect he's quoting a DJ from the Chicago airwaves. The thing about the new songs is that I'm sure the album versions sound completely different with the full band input. I noticed each tune had its own personality, though the critics will undoubtedly find a way to apply a blanket statement to the entire record. I'll spare you further analysis, except to say I'm totally in love with "Born Alone" already.

Another pleasure of a Jeff Tweedy solo show is seeing which of the rarer tracks he'll pull out or what song you thought you knew will be reinterpreted. I'll single out two tunes in the latter category, though for completely different reasons. "Pecan Pie" completely fell apart, as Jeff could barely remember the lyrics and repeatedly mixed up the sequence of lines. It didn't help that during the course of the day we had stumbled upon a mashup of "Ticket to Ride" and "Pecan Pie," so we were useless as well. (Seriously, try singing one song to the other melody--it kind of works.)

On a more serious note, "Bull Black Nova" was credited as a request from "Eddd," and it was a complete revelation. The song's insistent paranoia has been a highlight of full band shows, especially by the time they get to the ending howls. Pared down to one voice and one guitar, it took on a new dimension, especially in Jeff's choice to downplay and whisper the last line. Let me put it this way: If Wilco's version is the sweeping big-budget thriller about a psycho killer and his impulses, then Jeff's solo performance is the indie film that puts you right in the murderer's head. Think "Silence of the Lambs" versus "Dexter"? (Note: I've never watched "Dexter.") If I had a car, I'd still be checking my backseat every night to make sure it was empty.

We got tons of banter from Jeff too, which isn't always a given, but he held court at length on "American Idol," offering his impressions (in both senses of the word) of both Randy Jackson and Jennifer Lopez. Trust me--he's no Rich Little, but the bigger surprise was probably Jeff's wholesale fandom of the show. There was also a moment with the young boy seated front and center, who, when asked by Jeff if this was his first show, shot down the singer's hopes and dreams. As a direct result, a familiar face bore the brunt of Jeff's disappointment, but we know it was in good fun.

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» you can tell that i'm not lying
» the message

that echo chorus lied to me

I've clocked an atrocious concert attendance record this year, and it doesn't look to improve a whole lot. But Julie's generous offer (again) and expert finagling helped get me to Neko Case's show at Stern Grove.

Neko Case, Stern Grove, July 3, 2011: Talk about a rarity--for the first time in a long time, you could see the Fourth of July fireworks in San Francisco. But before that waste of gunpowder and sky (lyrics courtesy of Aimee Mann), a related and equally isolated incident transpired: Stern Grove was luxuriously warm and sunny for Neko Case's show. What a country!

When we last left off, Neko Case played the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, but in the interim, she's shown up with the New Pornographers as well. You'd be hard-pressed to claim that she doesn't pop in enough, but it's still nice to chalk up another gig, especially under gorgeous, open skies.

One observation about Neko: She's not necessarily the most prolific artist. This is no complaint; I prefer artists to work at their own pace and put out their work when they're ready, not when they're expected. Thus, her concerts don't change a whole lot between albums, and we saw a similar performance to her Hardly Strictly set, minus the Shangri-Las' cover. Once more, she was backed by her faithful band, including Jon Rauhouse and Kelly Hogan, concentrating on tracks from the last two albums. She snuck in a couple of old standards from her back catalog as well, including "Favorite" and "Knock Loud." The latter came with an emphatic warning; they didn't do the song a whole lot. With this caveat in mind, the audience welcomed the song more as a treat than a dare--I completely agree!

Speaking of treats, they tried out two new songs on the crowd, but I can't characterize either title. However, I look forward to their official release, whenever that may be.

In between, Neko and Kelly shared their usual carefree banter, and I have to admit, in this open air setting, some of their words were lost to the winds and street sounds. In fact, I'm afraid the acoustics could've been a little better, but the show was, after all, free. Nonetheless, it was impossible to miss Neko and Kelly's repeated shout-outs to muttville.org in support of their long-standing love of dogs. I'm not sure if it's a San Francisco thing, but that's hardly the first time I've heard them laud some of the city's more pup-friendly attitudes.

The Dodos opened, and as was the case on the last tour with the New Pornographers, Neko joined them for a track, though I don't know the name. Their sound also suffered in these unusual environs, but the drums and guitar came across well. If I seem less than hyped about them, don't mind me--they have great melodies and I like the singer's voice, but I've contracted a huge case to musical ennui and can't seem to latch onto newer talent right now. If anything, Neko's seal of approval should be a strong recommendation to interested listeners.

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» amateur
» form a line to the throne