After seeing Wilco in Hamilton earlier this week, I’m on a bit of a Wilco kick. With that in mind, I thought it might be interesting to trace singer Jeff Tweedy’s roots from his punk beginnings through the alt-country phase that made him famous, and to his current status as leader of the world’s greatest band.

We start in St. Louis in the early 1980s, where Tweedy was in a garage-punk band called The Primitives, with high school friend Jay Farrar and Farrar’s brothers Wade and Dade. While The Primitives never gained fame outside the Midwest United States, the band is notable for being Tweedy’s first step on the path toward Wilco.

Here is The Primitives’ “Psycho,” from a live gig in 1985. Jeff Tweedy is the really young looking guy rocking both the dress and the bass (two things that most Wilco fans have probably never seen him do).


 
When Primitives vocalist Wade Farrar left to attend college, the band became a trio and changed their name to Uncle Tupelo. Jay Farrar took over vocal duties, and their sound evolved into a fusion of punk and country.
 
While earlier bands had already combined elements of country with rock and/or punk (REM, The Replacements, The Jayhawks), Uncle Tupelo are widely credited as being the first true alt-country band.

Though both Farrar and Tweedy shared co-writing and singing duties in Uncle Tupelo, the band wasn’t exactly a Lennon-McCartney style partnership. For starters, Farrar in reality took care of the bulk of the singing, as Tweedy was just starting to find his voice. As well, Farrar and Tweedy’s sonic preferences were quite different.

To illustrate this point, a Farrar song followed a Tweedy tune. Here’s Jay taking lead vox on “Whiskey Bottle,” which features just about the most perfect country-tinged lyric ever: “Whiskey bottle over Jesus/not forever/just for now.”


 
And now, “Gun,” featuring Tweedy’s voice, which was nowhere near as full as it is today.
 

 
Tweedy’s drinking and his desire to move beyond his secondary singer-songwriter duties are widely regarded as two of the key drivers behind the tension that eventually caused Uncle Tupelo’s split in 2004. When Jay Farrar decided to quit the band, Jeff Tweedy elected to forge ahead with the other members of Uncle Tupelo, changing their name to Wilco. The rest, as they say, is history.

Here’s Wilco on Letterman in 1997, performing “Outtasite (Outtamind)” off their second release, Being There. Wilco fans will be amused to see how young Tweedy looks. Everyone else should watch just to see Paul Schaffer pretend he’s in a real band.

There aren’t too many bands around that would entice me to travel from Toronto to Hamilton on a Tuesday evening. But then, Wilco isn’t just any band. They are, at least in my humble opinion, the single greatest band playing music today. And so it was that my wife, sister and future-brother-in-law made the trek across the QEW to see our heroes in action.

This was the fourth time I’ve seen Wilco live, and each time I’ve commented that “The show was great, but I wish they’d played .” Last night’s setlist, on the other hand, had it all. Every song I expect to hear them play (“Impossible Germany,” the crowd-singalong favorite “Jesus, Etc.”). Every song I’ve wanted to hear them play at past shows but missed out on (“California Stars”, “Reservations”). And even some surprises, such as a nearly note-perfect version of Neil Young’s beautiful, soaring “Broken Arrow” (complete with the “Mr. Soul” intro as on Neil’s record).

This was Wilco’s first trip to Hamilton, and frontman Jeff Tweedy spent some time consulting with the audience about whether he should refer to it as “Hammertown” or simply “The Hammer.” This banter continued throughout the night; as the audience shouted the usual we-love-yous and song requests, Tweedy at one point said it seemed the audience had declared one particularly vocal fan their “designated spokesman.” Considering his longstanding reputation as a bit of a difficult and moody guy, it was good to see Tweedy so loose and playful.

The rest of the band was in fine form, as usual. Wilco has a particular knack for sounding both technical and polished and loose and jammy at the same time. A significant part of that is due to the incredible skill of guitarist Nels Cline, whose 30+ year career has seen him play jazz, punk and alt-country with equal brilliance. Bassist John Stirratt – the only original Wilco member besides Tweedy – is also a vital cog, as his bass lines skillfully keep songs moving in the right direction even as the rest of the band breaks into one of their frequent wall-of-noise jams (listen to “Bull Black Nova” in the Youtube clip above, for a perfect illustration, despite the less-than-stellar quality).

Having now had the good fortune to see Wilco in the Toronto area three times in just over a year, I suspect it might be a bit of time before I get to catch them live again. If I have to occupy my time with CDs and other things Wilco-related (a new Wilco-themed sandwich shop in Toronto, for instance), at least I know last night’s Hamilton stop will remain a vivid memory of the band’s live power for months to come.

Read More 0 comments | Posted by Neil Faba |

A couple weeks ago, I introduced a feature I’m calling Backtrack, in which I look at things that occurred on a particular date in history. In that first Backtrack post, I mentioned that it would be something I’d do whenever I felt like it. Given that my beautiful niece, Rylee, was born today – making me a first-time uncle – I can’t think of a better date for the second installment.

On this date in 2000, Carlos Santana somehow managed to win eight Grammy awards for his album Supernatural, tying the record Michael Jackson’s Thriller set in 1983. One day I’ll teach Rylee everything I know about music, and explain to her that once upon a time, long before 2000, the Grammy Awards actually meant something.



On another musical note, the first Juno Awards (actually called the Gold Leaf Awards until being renamed the following year) were given out on Feb. 23, 1970, in Toronto. Among the winners was a young Gordon Lightfoot – who, as you might recall, didn't die this past week.

As my niece comes into the world, Vancouver is in the middle of hosting the Winter Olympics. On Feb. 23, 1988, the previous Canadian-hosted Olympics opened in Calgary. Below is a clip from the closing ceremonies of those Games. Don’t be scared, Rylee – believe it or not, this is what people looked like in 1988.



Finally, the Tootsie Roll was introduced to the world on Feb. 23, 1896. As chewy and difficult to eat as they were, it would be another 35 years before Tootsie Roll Industries decided to take things to the next level by encasing the candy in the tooth-shattering shell of a Tootsie Pop.

The follow is a transcript of my exclusive interview with Gordon Lightfoot, mere minutes after his death falsely reported demise:

Neil: Mr. Lightfoot?

Gordon: Yes, this is he…

Neil: How are you this afternoon, sir?

Gordon: Doing just fine, thanks. Just got back from the dentist

Neil: So… Umm… then you’re not dead.

Gordon: Dead? Nope. A little groggy, maybe.

Neil: From being dead?

Gordon: From anesthetic. Where the hell did you hear I was dead, anyhow?

Neil: Twitter. It’s all over the place.

Gordon: And you believe everything you read on Twitter?

Neil: Well, yeah. It’s Twitter, not TMZ. Any idea who might have started this crazy rumour?

Gordon: I’m not sure. Gord Downie, maybe. I did a gig with him a couple weeks ago for the Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame and I could have sworn I heard him mumble something about there being one too many Gords in Canadian music.

Neil: I’ve heard rumblings that Ronnie Hawkins was the one who started telling people you were dead. Aren’t you two friends?

Gordon: Oh yeah, me and Ronnie go way back. Still, I wouldn’t put it past him to do this. He’s a great guy, but he’s been a bit of a crazy old coot since The Band ditched him for Dylan.

Neil: Well, Mr. Lightfoot, I’m glad to hear you’re okay. One more thing… would you mind singing a few bars of ‘Drifters’ for me?

Gordon: Sorry buddy. Paying customers only.


(For those who haven't figured it out, this isn't real. I know it's pretty obvious, but I figured it should be said. So there.)

Green Shag is a cool bespoke men's clothier here in Toronto, started in 2002 by husband and wife team Neil and Victoria McPhedran. While the bespoke process harkens back to a time when men only wore suits and button-up shirts and therefore took the time to ensure they were made properly, the vibe of the store is definitely 21st century.

While their claim to fame is shirts designed by the wearer down to the smallest detail (I had my wedding shirt made there), Green Shag also specializes in cufflinks. Feel like supporting Team Canada in a unique way for these Olympics? The Shag team just released their latest in a line of Team Canada hockey cufflinks, showcasing Hockey Canada's logo from the 1930s to today (the 2010 logo is above). Not into wearing button-up shirts while you watch the game? Green Shag also has a variety of money clips featuring the logos.

Those who aren't able to visit Green Shag's Toronto store can be order online along with the rest of the hockey 'links series.

This blog has been a long time coming. I’m an editor and writer by trade. I’ve worked in communications all my life, developing content for other people – magazines, associations, corporations and others. But despite this (or perhaps because of it), I’ve struggled with writing purely for my own enjoyment… until a month ago when I finally started this blog.

As I alluded to in my first post, being laid off from my job as an editor at the end of 2009 was finally the kick in the butt I needed to get this site going. It’s been cathartic to write whatever I want, whenever I want. And on a more practical level, it’s been great to learn more about this whole online media experience; specifically, figuring out how to blog effectively, and how to drive traffic to it (translation: how to get you all to read what I’m writing). Traditional media is quickly moving into the online space, and I definitely feel like I’m building skills I’ll take with me in that journey.

As much success as I’ve had with this, and with getting people to not only read the blog but also offer positive comments on my writing, I’ve had one bit of constructive criticism given to me. My wife, Jenny, said to me the other day that I need to inject more of myself into my writing. And she wasn’t the first person to tell me that, either. I know blogs aren’t necessarily supposed to be anonymous, and I haven’t necessarily been trying to make this anonymous. But while I consciously focus on the writing and building of this blog, I’ve probably subconsciously taken myself out of the equation more than I needed to.

So, I’m going to try and put more of myself, and more of my life, into my blogging from here on. A word of warning to my readers: as an unemployed communications professional actively hunting for new job opportunities while simultaneously fighting the doldrums that come with being cooped up in the house for days on end, I can’t predict what part of “me” will get shared with you.

Of course, if I’m going to share myself with my readers, it’s only fair my readers share themselves with me. That means more comments on my posts, if you don’t mind. And let me know what’s on your minds, too. I’ve had many days over the past month where I just haven’t known what to write about. If my readers start feeding me their thoughts, topic ideas, or picks for restaurants to visit or music to listen to, some of those things are sure to give me ideas for posts. I can’t promise you a financial windfall in exchange for your help, but I can promise good karma. And if I’ve learned anything in recent months, it’s that karma definitely counts for something.

Move over, Miley. It looks like 2010 could be the year of Betty White.

First, there was this Snickers ad aired during the Super Bowl, in which Betty and fellow octogenarian actor Abe Vigoda play some pick-up football with much younger men.



According to the USA Today Ad Meter, which measures viewer reactions to TV spots, the Snickers ad was the highest-ranking among all the big game's commercials.

Far from being a one-off return to the spotlight, the Super Bowl spot seems to have touched off a groundswell of support among the social media savvy to have Betty White stick around for a while. A Facebook fan page set up at the end of 2009 as a petition to the Saturday Night Live producers to consider giving Betty White a shot at hosting the show has taken off in recent weeks. An article released today by social media news site Mashable noted that the page had hit 342,000 fans this morning; at last check this afternoon, 352,000 fans had joined.

Rose from St. Olaf has always been edgy. SNL, on the other hand, has not. Count me among those who think that maybe Betty White is just the host needed to inject a little life back into the show.