Wilco played “She’s a Jar” at the second show I saw this month. After seeing them in Napa, I was considering not attending the Oakland concert. I was having very long weekend, and I might have skipped it for just about anyone else, but it was Wilco. I had been following their tour setlists and so far they hadn’t played the same show twice. They had performed some of my favorites in other cities, so I thought there was a good chance I might hear some of the songs I’d been listening to nonstop for a year.
I’m so glad I went. Nels gave another, somehow more fantastic solo on “Impossible Germany.” I was dead center and I managed to get pretty close to the front again. By the time the halfway mark rolled around I had a perfect view of the whole stage. Jeff Tweedy was close enough that he could hear what some of the audience members around me were saying. I could see Glen’s looks of intermittent extreme concentration and absolute calm while he beat the life out of the drum set.
It was surreal being back in the Fox, like a nice dream. Before I started working at the Greek, I didn’t see that many shows, and then only the ones I was paid to attend. The one exception had been Neko Case at the Fox. It was the second time I had seen her and in the fall of my freshman year, it was a big deal that I managed to catch the right busses into Oakland on my own. Now, that distance is laughable, about the same as my commute to campus everyday, but I was proud of myself for making it there. The Fox has been a special place to me ever since.
“Cactus Tree” has become of my favorite Joni Mitchell songs. Growing up, I had listened to “Big Yellow Taxi” and “Both Sides Now” with my mom, but I didn’t start to explore her discography more until I was an adult. I’m sure this one was gifted to me by the trusty Spotify algorithm. The first time I heard it, I remember feeling wrecked by the lyrics:
There's a man who's climbed a mountain
And he's calling out her name
And he hopes her heart can hear three thousand miles
He calls again
He can think her there beside him
He can miss her just the same
He has missed her in the forest
While he showed her all the flowers
And the branches sang the chorus
As he climbed the scaly towers
Of a forest tree
While she was somewhere being free
There’s contention among my close friends about who to side with in the story. When I first heard it, I thought it was surely a song about a flighty woman who indiscriminately broke hearts, bestowing the gift of her love only to take it away. Over time, I’ve come to see the validity of her perspective—it would be disingenuous to stay if she doesn’t want to, even if she could. I’ve been both people, surely.
Song to a Seagull (1968) is Joni Mitchell’s first record. It was produced by David Crosby, who initially wanted to record Joni’s vocals from inside a grand piano while she sang into the strings. He had never produced anything before, and his naivety in combination with Joni’s refreshing songwriting animates the glimmer of her future stardom in these debut recordings.
Elliott Smith was also known for his unique recording techniques. He did perfect doubles of his vocals and guitars to make the parts sound warmer, and often recorded to a four-track tape machine. He played all the instruments on Either/Or (1997), his breakthrough third album. He wrote everything too:
Got a broken heart and your name on my cast
And everybody's gone at last
Elliott Smith’s music is transportive; I feel like I could live inside the hollow of his guitar forever. He’s inspired countless songwriters, most notably Phoebe Bridgers, and in death has achieved massive critical acclaim. While a lot of his music is really, really sad (“Angeles” I’m looking at you), there are some bright spots amongst the lows. While not on this particular playlist, I’ll close with some lyrics from “Say Yes:”
It's always been, wait and see
A happy day and then you pay
And feel like shit the mornin' afterBut now I feel changed around
And instead of fallin' down
I'm standing up the mornin' afterSituations get fucked up
And turned around sooner or later