rubberneck whiplash

i was looking for a really tight video of this song and i came across this.
the video sucks. you can’t see the band. but the sound isn’t bad.
and?
i was here. i already heard this for real. and this was one of the best shows i’ve ever seen.

my FIRST time in California.
WITH my mom.
and, as you can see, it was a BEAUTIFUL day.
at one point, a flock of birds flew across the sky forming nearly an identical image to the cover art from the “Sky Blue Sky” album.
this is shot from, if I remember correctly, very close to where we were actually standing. very close to where the group of four people about my age were tripping their balls off and that one guy passed out and no one knew what to do. was it during the song? now I’m wondering. it doesn’t matter.

and I’m sure I’ve written about this exact same song many, many times. I have no doubt. the end is my favorite favorite.

i burden myself as a major Wilco fan with quite a bit of discredit. i always assumed everyone knew who they were. i guess i thought they were a huge rock band. truth be told, they are not a huge rock band. they are hugest in Chicago. and probably Europe. Wilco is probably actually just a pretty solid group that appeals to quasi-intellectual middle class white people like myself, a fact that doesn’t make me like them any less, but does lead me to mentally frame everything I say about them with a gaping sigh and eye roll. because there is nothing remarkable or thought-provoking about a 28-year-old SWF writer living in Chicago re-posting clips from old Wilco shows on the internet when she meant to be vacuuming an hour ago.

I am looking forward
Toward the shadows tracing bones
Our faces stitched and sewing
Our houses hemmed into homes
Trying to be thankful
Our stories fit into phones
And our voices lift so easily
A gift given accidentally
When we’re not sure
We’re not alone

11 February 2012 ·