The opulent, gold-tinged walls of Copley Symphony Hall let each note fight for space with Jeff Tweedy's soothing howl as Wilco played a flawless, riveting two-hour set. Touring in support of The Whole Love, the Chicago six-piece wowed the sold-out crowd with its catalogue-spanning repertoire. A wealth of sad bastard tunes was tempered by the bright, kinetic energy of songs such as "Dawned on Me" and "I Might."
Though Wilco's lineup has seen several changes, the current incarnation is a well-oiled machine with a snowballing fanbase. Lead guitarist Nels Cline displayed manic virtuosity and remarkable restraint through his solos and backing riffs. The band's range was stretched dramatically by the sharp, metallic core of "Art of Almost," rising abruptly from a bubbly, futuristic intro and making for one of their most intriguing experimental numbers.
An eerie fog hung over the venue throughout the show, resembling something between a gas leak and thin layer of pot smoke. Lights pierced the haze to artfully coincide with the imagery of Tweedy's lyrics and beautifully caromed off of ghost-like appendages hanging from the stage. The night climaxed with a loose rendition of "Jesus, Etc.," which put the audience collectively in kumbaya mode.
The opulent, gold-tinged walls of Copley Symphony Hall let each note fight for space with Jeff Tweedy's soothing howl as Wilco played a flawless, riveting two-hour set. Touring in support of The Whole Love, the Chicago six-piece wowed the sold-out crowd with its catalogue-spanning repertoire. A wealth of sad bastard tunes was tempered by the bright, kinetic energy of songs such as "Dawned on Me" and "I Might."
Though Wilco's lineup has seen several changes, the current incarnation is a well-oiled machine with a snowballing fanbase. Lead guitarist Nels Cline displayed manic virtuosity and remarkable restraint through his solos and backing riffs. The band's range was stretched dramatically by the sharp, metallic core of "Art of Almost," rising abruptly from a bubbly, futuristic intro and making for one of their most intriguing experimental numbers.
An eerie fog hung over the venue throughout the show, resembling something between a gas leak and thin layer of pot smoke. Lights pierced the haze to artfully coincide with the imagery of Tweedy's lyrics and beautifully caromed off of ghost-like appendages hanging from the stage. The night climaxed with a loose rendition of "Jesus, Etc.," which put the audience collectively in kumbaya mode.