No matter how hard we try to push the idea of keeping an open mind, it's a myth.  I don't need to tell you this.  It's bullshit.  Expectations and predispositions are part of being human.  And they're guided by past experiences.  When something veers off the path of your expectations, more often than not it's a letdown.  A big, crappy letdown.   

Let's just get it out of the way.  I'm a Wilco fan.  Have been for a long time.  I think they're maybe the best American band in the past 25 years.  But, even great bands have peaks and valleys, and Wilco's last record and tour was a little stale and gimmicky.  It felt like a concession.  A resignation.  Though the suits were excellent.  

What I'm trying to say here is that while Wilco live is always great, the prospect that they are going to continue to push the envelope really wasn' t there anymore.  Not that that really matters.  Hell, I'd be happy if they came out and played A.M. front to back.  But there's always going to be an important difference between being loved and being relevant.    

After a White Denim opener (missed it...bummer), Wilco opened softly with the slow burn of "One Sunday Morning".  And then 5 of the next 7 songs were...loud.  Dissonant.  Chaotic.  Dark.  Unexpected.  "Poor Places" tailed off into at least 20 seconds of blaring white noise.  The bleeps and blips of "Art of Almost" gave way to jagged, splitting guitars.  "Bull Black Nova" chugged into an unsettling groove.   "At Least That's What You Said" drove the point home: this isn't (necessarily) your older brother's Wilco.  It was a pretty clear message from a band that doesn't seem done exploring after all.  

Oh yeah, and the rest of the show was good too.  For all of Jeff Tweedy's strengths, sometimes it gets lost in the shuffle that he is a fantastic pop songwriter.  I mean, that clever bastard can write a hook.  The band charged through some of the new poppier material ("Dawned On Me"; "The Whole Love") with typical veteran expertise.  And Nels Cline's solo on "Impossible Germany" is still one of the prettiest things you'll hear at a rock & roll show.  

Going into last night, I was ready to appreciate Wilco for what they were.  Ready to ride off into the sunset with them on a few more albums of mellow contentment.  OK with having to reminisce back to when this was an exciting and original band.  Ready to pass the torch on to bands like My Morning Jacket and The National.  But, well...fuckin' a.  Wilco snuck up on me again.  

One of the best things about music is being pleasantly surprised.  Sometimes your expectations are wrong and you don't end up crestfallen.  You just have to keep an open mind.

Check out "Art of Almost" from earlier in this tour...