The Promised Wilco Post

I live in my own little world. I am constantly being reminded of this fact, as well as the fact that I’d do well to come out of it every so often. But then I’ll make the effort, get to the gates, contemplate letting the draw bridge down over the moat, and think, “nah, too much trouble,” climbing back up the tower stairs, refusing to believe not everyone lives here with me. Not for the first time, due to my tendency to expect everyone to be living in Emily World, I find myself needing to apologize to someone for thoughts I’ve had. This time, that person would be my dear friend Danny.

You see, Danny is Jeff Tweedy’s brother-in-law. Yes, I just said he’s related to Jeff Tweedy. Thus, I am one degree of separation from Jeff Tweedy. All you Wilco fans out there can claim this, too, if you start reading Danny’s blog. To tell you the truth, I’m actually more thrilled to know that Danny’s sister, who is married to Jeff Tweedy, occasionally reads my blog, because I’d rather be one degree of separation from her. Knowing Danny, I’m sure I would adore his sister. (As a matter of fact, I think we need to have an extended Miller-Michie family meet up in Chicago sometime, since my siblings read Danny’s blog). Anyway, being a kind brother-in-law, Danny does quite a lot to promote Wilco on his blog. More than once (although I eagerly read these blog posts, always interested in an “inside scoop”), I’ve found myself thinking, “But you don’t need to promote Wilco. Everyone knows Wilco! They’re fantastic. They’ve won Grammies. It’s like promoting The Rolling Stones.”

How wrong I’ve been all this time. You see, it seems, not everyone does know Wilco. So, I’m going to join Danny and promote them here, today. If you don’t own any Wilco CDs, come join me in my castle, and I’ll play them for you.

How did I suddenly discover not everyone knows Wilco? It all started with one of Danny’s blog posts, about how he was going to see Wilco with Neil Young at a benefit concert out in California. I, ignoring the Neil Young part, immediately thought, “Wilco’s touring? Let’s see if they’re coming to New York.” I never dreamed they might be coming to Philadelphia. I checked their web site and discovered not only were they coming to New York, but they were also coming to Philadelphia, and that Neil Young just happened to be coming along with them.

I’ve always loved Neil Young. Bob, on the other hand, has always wanted to be Neil Young. I think he’s got every Neil Young album ever made in duplicate (his old vinyl records plus CDs). He doesn’t understand why I don’t want a shrine to Neil Young in the middle of our living room, nor why, when we go on 12-hour-long journeys in the car, I don’t want them to be “All Neil Young, All the Time.” He also loves Wilco. His birthday was right around the corner, and the perfect birthday gift seemed to me to be a ticket to see the two in Philadelphia (I was right. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bob so excited over a gift. I thought I had last year, when I got him a Suzanne Vega ticket, but I was wrong). And you know, he needed someone to go with him, so I made the huge sacrifice and got a ticket for myself while I was at it. So, Bob was going to see Neil Young with Wilco. I was going to see Wilco with Neil Young. We were both happy.

I don’t exactly want to build a shrine to Wilco in our living room, but I’ve been a fan of theirs ever since a friend of mine handed me a copy of “Mermaid Avenue,” their album with Billy Bragg, and said, “Here. You’ve got to listen to this.” She was right. I went out and bought my own copy. I like them, because they kind of remind me of a punk-ish Grateful Dead with an eye on innovation (if that makes any sense at all). I was very excited to hear them in concert, because I’d heard they tend to add more dissonance when they perform live than appears on their albums. And I wasn’t the least bit disappointed. I loved the sudden dissonance and the cool use of lighting at their performance.

What did disappoint me was how few people seemed to know who they were. (I will refrain from saying, “More proof that Pennsylvania is a little behind the times.”) Bob and I arrived in a half empty stadium about five minutes after the first band to play took the stage. We were aware that this other band would be playing, but we didn't know who they were. We liked what we heard, and I was wondering if they’d announced who they were, so I asked someone sitting close by. She replied,

“I don’t know. Wilco, I think?”

No, it most definitely was not Wilco. It turns out it was a band called Everest, and a very good band it was, but it wasn’t Wilco. This was when I first came to suspect that maybe people had only come to this show to see Neil Young, that yes, there are large numbers of people who don’t live in Emily World, who hadn’t fought rush-hour traffic for two hours to get into Philly, which should only have taken an hour, to idolize Jeff Tweedy on stage (oh yeah, and to listen to a little Neil Young afterwards). People did, at least, begin to pack the stadium for Wilco’s performance, and I began to think maybe I was wrong, maybe it was just those two people I’d happened to pick out of all these Wilco fans, who weren’t familiar with the band.

But nope, the band played an excellent set. I was wishing they’d play a little longer as they left the stage, and the lights came on. With nothing better to do while Bob went to wait in interminably long food and bathroom lines (yes, even the Men’s room was terrible), I began eavesdropping on the guys who were sitting behind me. One of them knew absolutely nothing about Wilco. He was asking all kinds of questions about that “weird dissonance.” His friend (obviously an Emily World resident who said he’d now seen them five times) was busy explaining the band to him.

Then, I happened to look at the guy sitting in front of me and noticed he had a Wikipedia print out of a “Wilco” entry. I asked him if I could see it, because I’ve never bothered to look up the band on Wikipedia. He passed it back to me with this comment,

“They turned out to be pretty good, didn’t they?” (Yet another non-resident. Sigh!).

No, they didn’t "turn out to be pretty good.” They are good. A better word choice would be “awesome.” How many other beings from Non-Emily Worlds were sitting under this one roof with me? I sat back in my seat and decided to keep my mouth shut, lest any of them turn out to be hostile. Can’t have my towers getting attacked, you know.

So, Danny, I’m sorry. Apparently, we all need to be promoting this band as much as possible. Maybe one day the whole world will finally know about them. Meanwhile, maybe someone could make me a little “Wilco” button for my sidebar?