Wilco

Recounting a Wilco concert without falling into empty rhetoric is always a very tough task. As documented by the unmissable live album "Kicking Television" seven years ago now, the Chicago band is a shining example of how songwriting already of the highest order can combine on stage with technical skill and interpretive ability.

Despite the experimentalism that has established them as standard-bearers of American independent rock over the last decade, Wilco have never hidden their roots, but have always been able to blend them into their own highly personal microcosm and reveal them even more effectively in blood-and-guts performances of devastating emotional power.

These are the premises with which the Venaria audience welcomes the third and final stop of a mini Italian tour that began two days earlier with the Padua and Florence dates. The chosen location is the Teatro della Concordia, a venue that isn't particularly large (around 1,500 seats), but intimate enough to elevate the concert into a moment of collective focus and, no small detail, blessed with excellent acoustics.

While the theatre is still waiting to fill up (turnout will end up excellent, though short of a sell-out), the Hazey Janes take the stage: a Scottish quartet purveying an indie-rock heavily indebted to the more Springsteen-esque side of Arcade Fire. Their set is uneven, alternating between extremely crowd-pleasing but, all things considered, enjoyable numbers (including the single "New York", cleverly placed at the close) and glaring missteps in a songwriting that, caught between bombastic washes of synth and achy country-ballads, struggles to find its footing. Frontman Andrew Mitchell's voice also fails to convince: technically sound, but so accommodating that it ends up impalpable.

At 9:30pm sharp, the lights go down for the second time and Wilco finally take hold of the stage, greeted by an ovation that testifies to just how passionately the band is followed in these parts. That passion is immediately vindicated by a stunning opening in which we're straight away confronted with the past and present of their most elusive side, the one made of "cosmic" digressions that dismember the pop ballad in the classic "Misunderstood" and stretch out even further in the stream-of-consciousness of "Art Of Almost", the absolute highlight of last year's "The Whole Love".

Of the band, who as usual move with masterful ease, what stands out is the even deeper integration of Nels Cline's flair, a guitarist as virtuosic in technique as he is sensitive in his arrangements, the true crown jewel of a six-headed monster with few equals in contemporary rock. Amid sound honed down to the smallest detail and surgical precision in execution, everything seems extraordinarily perfect in the first part of the set - perhaps too perfect. With the choice to place a bland track like "Standing O" as early as third in the running order, the band does indeed appear in great shape, but not yet able to unleash that explosive force that has always defined its shows.

Even the masterpiece "I'm Trying To Break Your Heart", though played with autopilot of a superior order, suffers from an overly composed delivery. But just when catharsis seems destined to give way to mere excellent craftsmanship, something suddenly happens. Against a backdrop of fans ready to seize a moment of silence to shout out song requests, Jeff Tweedy, with apparent nonchalance, picks up the acoustic guitar and caresses the first three chords of "Sunken Treasure". The moment his cracked voice intones the opening lines "There's rows and rows of houses with the windows painted blue, with the light from the T.V running parallel to you", time seems to stretch, and it's as if a whole new concert were beginning: Glenn Kotche lands an entrance that hits like a punch in the gut, while Tweedy's vocal performance is so wrenching that one barely notices a new, sumptuous synth arrangement courtesy of Jorgensen.

The shift in register becomes clear in the explosive version that follows of the recent “Born Alone”, while a “Laminated Cat” dug up from as far back as the Loose Fur debut serves as a prelude to an “Impossible Germany” that draws an open ovation mid-song. The three guitars of Tweedy, Cline and Sansone weave their usual, delightful harmonic interplay before Cline alone steps forward with a memorable improvisation that reveals his jazz background. Tweedy, unusually buoyant, hands out smiles and shows of affection to a crowd that becomes the star of the show, singing the first verse of a “Jesus etc.” played with unmatched, understated class, in unison. And while a sparkling “Whole Love”, positively infected by the mood of the night, certainly holds its own, what proves simply irresistible is a blistering run in which “Handshake Drugs”, “War On War”, “I'm Always In Love” and “Heavy Metal Drummer” parade past without a single pause for breath.

Only the infectious vaudeville of “Hummingbird” allows a bit of breathing room before “A Shot In The Arm” closes out the first part of the set with another milestone.

Wilco don't let up even during the encores: first “Via Chicago” wrings out ovations with its brilliant mix of pop melodies, noisy excursions and sudden silences, then a Chilton-esque reworking of “Passenger Side” takes the crowd by the hand and leads them into more classically rock'n'roll territory. “California Stars”, lifted straight from the Woody Guthrie tribute project “Mermaid Avenue”, duly paves the way for a closing stretch that reeks of southern rock, with the triple shot of “Hate It Here”, “Walken” and “I'm The Man Who Loves You” bringing to mind that blend of precision and passion typical of the great live bands of the '70s.

There's still time for one last encore that raises the stakes even further with the high-voltage one-two of “Monday” - “Outtasite (Outta Mind)”, an anthemic finale that wraps everything up in a festive atmosphere, almost justifying the cameo of the mustachioed roadie called on stage to shake his backside to the closing notes of “Hoodoo Voodoo”.

Two and a half hours have gone by, but no one at Teatro Della Concordia seems to have noticed. Everyone still has, in their eyes but above all in their ears and hearts, yet another unforgettable show from six immense musicians. In this writer's opinion, in terms of song quality, onstage chemistry and emotional impact, they are the best live band in the world right now.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite Sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestone album features and the latest news, straight in your feed.

Follow on Google