Wilco's setlist last night at Merriweather Post Pavilion had something for fans of every Wilco. Prefer cowpokey Wilco,  from immediately after the days of Uncle Tupelo? They played "Boxful of Letters" off of A.M. ("The record six of you bought," said frontman Jeff Tweedy.) The netherworldly sonics of the band's output from the last decade or so got their due, as did Wilco's new album, The Whole Love, which is out tomorrow.

The nicest part of the night came during the encore, when Tweedy, calling him "the original Jesus of Cool, my hero," brought out opener Nick Lowe for Lowe's "36 Inches High." "Pretty damn good for one rehearsal," said a grinning Tweedy afterward.

If you couldn't make it out last night, NPR is streaming the whole show.

More photos from the set can be seen here.

Formed in Libyan refugee camps in ‘79, the band spent over a decade exiled from its home in Mali. The group didn't put out its first widely released album until 2001, but it's been growing a broad international fanbase through ruthless touring ever since. The band literally encompasses generations of Taureg musicians, all nomadic denizens of the Sahara.

Tassili lacks some of the fire of the band’s earliest work, however: While the 2004 album Amassakoul had a Hendrix-like ferocity, subsequent albums have favored more trance-inducing jams. This time around, the band plays all acoustic instruments, but the formula is familiar. Leader Ibrahim Ag Alhabib sings for a few bars, his 16 or so bandmates respond, and then long, meandering guitar work ensues. Alhabib’s virtuosic fingers still speak volumes, even as he becomes progressively more restrained.

The unamplified percussion and acoustic vibe brings less rock ‘n’ roll and more earthiness to the table. I have no way to verify the label’s claim that the band’s lyrics are now less political, but stripped-down tracks like “Tameyawt” offer the kind of intimacy that would support a more personal approach.

The album features guest spots from Tunde Adebimpe and Kyp Malone of TV on the Radio, Nels Cline of Wilco, and the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, which might lead you to believe Tinariwen is reaching for some kind of crossover. The ensemble may be reaching out to other audiences—and its latest single is perhaps its most accessible yet—but you’d be hard-pressed to find any artistic compromises. Cline offers an eerie, effects-drenched atmosphere to the opening track, and the Brass Band melds its instruments organically into “Ya Messinagh.” Adebimpe and Malone make their most prominent appearance on “Tenere Taqhim Tossam,” which meshes a TVOTR-style chorus into the Taureg framework, but they also add subtle harmonies and guitar work elsewhere that’s appropriately hard to notice.

Collaborations aside, the album shouldn’t shock longtime fans. The gradual move toward quieter songs has been a long time coming, and while the band may have opened itself up to a few unexpected visitors, the still-beating heart of the desert blues remains the same.

Wilco earned the tag "dad rock" a few years back, and it suits them. While the band has explored the depths of Krautrock experimentation and Jim O'Rourke-inspired feedback, it simultaneously inhabits a distinctly '70s-friendly sphere of classic rock & roll. "Impossible Germany" has fresh licks that drip with nostalgia.

The fact that Wilco chose to collaborate with her on its last record ought to give away the fact that she too shares some old-school influences. Feist's inviting vocals and her affinity for warm pop arrangements should sit nicely with your pops.

Local troubadours Lightfoot pull from a certain pool of '70s singer/songwriters that should be accessible enough to dad. The pleasant melodies and major sevenths are kind without being cloying, and the youthful songs sound new enough to make your old man feel cool again. If he's feeling extra adventurous, take him to Galaxy Hut this Sunday to see Lightfoot in action.

Over at WaPo's Click Track yesterday, pop critic Chris Richards asked his readers to explain to him the allure of Wilco frontman Jeff Tweedy, who played a solo show at the Lincoln Theatre last night with The Autumn Defense. I'm betting that had he attended last night's show, the experience of Tweedy's emotive voice singing songs stripped of all extras would have erased his confusion.

The Autumn Defense is the side-project of Wilco's bassist John Stirratt and guitarist Pat Sansone. Theirs is a more decidedly more '70s California vibe (Gram Parsons). While Wilco has moved away from the steel-pedally sound that ran through early records like AM and Being There, Stirratt and Sansone are still doing it pretty well.

You can see the additional photos from both sets here.

Yes, we've already chewed on Deerhunter a lot this week. Let the chewing continue!

Pre-Show

Ryan Little: As a relative newcomer to Deerhunter's spacey tuneage, I have to say Halcyon Digest is a welcome push toward more accessible songwriting. Cryptograms lost me in the ether for a bit, and this album feels more anchored. I'm interested to see how it comes off live. Do you think it’ll be super mellowed out, or will the post-punk roots come out in full force?

Matt Siblo: Ryan, Ryan, Ryan...always late to the party. Though you might have slept on Deerhunter—who, by the way, have already gone on hiatus and come back—your assessment is on the nose. Cryptograms stands as my least favorite with Halcyon Digest on the fast track toward becoming a new favorite, though the Fluorescent Grey EP and Microcastle are both indisputable. In terms of whether Bradford Cox and Co. will bring the fire or the snooze is anyone's guess, but the last time I saw them at ATP NY, it was a finely-tuned mix of both.

I have to say, with the recent spat of sell-outs at the 9:30 Club and the overwhelmingly positive response to the new album, I'm a bit surprised that there are tickets at the door. Predictions on whether we'll be gazing at each others' shoes rather than a packed house?

RL: It's true, the band is several critically acclaimed releases deep, and as a music journalist, it is surprising that I haven't spent much time with them. I think my defense is best summed up by Ian Svenonius in the Felt Letters song "600,000 Bands," but that's beside the point. They do seem to be getting a lot of fan love and media attention, so I'd be a little shocked if the show weren't packed. My well-worn Asics aren't much to look at these days, so I hope folks turn out.

I'm guessing with all the noises going on in the record that the show will be loud. Was ATP a high-decibel affair?

MS: I'll be coming to the show straight from work and will be wearing Sperrys (and khakis!) so I am selfishly hoping for a packed house as to not be ousted as a square. Don't let me down, D.C.

Deerhunter were a real surprise for me at ATP. They were more aggressive than I had anticipated but in a way that suited the songs and not just in a 'let's place this stuff faster' sort of way. I remember them having great lights which, in my estimation, can be the difference between a good and great performance by a band where the expectation is little to no onstage movement.

What'd Matt and Ryan discover? Keep reading!

Post-Show

RL: Well, that was something. I'll admit I was pretty impressed, though there were a few less-than-exciting sections in the set. There weren't really any bad moments, but for much of the first half of their show, I felt like I was at a woozy, drugged out prom. The songs stayed slow, with a kind of minimal Motown R&B backline, and layers of reverb smeared everything together. It was nice enough, but it wasn't mind-blowing.

Everything changed for me when they played "Little Kids" off Microcastle. It was the first tune to really punctuate the steady, sleepy vibe they'd been putting out, and it was incredible. I think you're right about the lights making a big difference between good and great. The climax at the end of the song, with its countless repetitions of "to get older still," was trance-inducing enough, but the strobe-like lighting made the club feel like another planet. It was a rare and euphoric experience.

Was there a moment where the set seemed to change for you?

MS: Ryan, before we get to the meat, I'll say a few words about the openers. Unfortunately, false advertising on the 9:30 Club website led me to miss Ducktails, the one-man outfit (on record, anyway) of Real Estate’s Matthew Mondanil . I did catch most of Casino vs. Japan who, after spending an entire weekend with Matthew Barney, were a bit too formless. After retreating to the basement for most of its set, I re-emerged to your astute analysis of it being (sic) "pretty boring but pretty cool."

Deerhunter, on the other hand, was in top form. I’ll concede that the band was slow to reveal itself and, as you pointed out, "Little Kids" made everything that came before feel quaint in comparison. Luckily, for our taste, the set was Halycon Digest-heavy complimented by the strongest tracks off Microcastle. Speaking of which, the drone outro of "Nothing Ever Happened" might have been the other major highlight for me outside of the monstrous conclusion of "Fluorescent Gray" that closed out the encore. I'm not afraid to admit that at that point, the band's 90 minute set had worn us both out.

RL: It's damn hard to make a one-man electronica show interesting to watch. It can be done, certainly, but it takes something special. In any case, Casino vs Japan's music was interesting, but the show was less than enthralling.

As far as Deerhunter goes, I find myself appreciating encores less and less these days, especially when the set is solid. If a set is well-planned, an extension of it usually doesn't make it any better. Of course, I'm sure lots of folks would've been pretty disappointed had they not played a few more songs.

Speaking of extended, which song had the long, noisy guitar heroics at the end? You know, with the Krautrock groove holding it together and Bradford Cox getting all Thurston Moore on his axe? That was a major highlight for me, and I'm okay with losing some cred by admitting I didn't recognize it.

MS: Your lack of cred is safe with me. (I'm not clear whether it's OK with the Internet, but what is?) The song you're referring to is "Nothing Ever Happened" which I've already listened to it twice on NPR's stream.

A few comments before we wrap this up: Although it might have interfered with last night's all-business approach, it was a shame that singer Bradford Cox wasn't chattier throughout. The few comments he made during the encore were rather entertaining and I think his personality compliments the songs. The only disappointment of the entire evening was the band's inability to recreate the intro of "Revival." I've been listening to that song non-stop for the past few weeks and it punches me in the gut every time. Live, it fell somewhat flat. Next time gents, I expect a touring keyboardist.

RL: I must admit it's hard to go back to listening to some of these songs on record after seeing them live. The volume and the perfectly appropriate size of the venue really made the show for me. They had enough space to let their reverb expand and envelop the entire room. I've seen other bands use a lot of atmospheric effects like that, and it's easy to lose the actual music underneath, but somehow Deerhunter manages to control it so well that the atmosphere just builds on top of what they're doing, rather than muddying it up. On record, that effect isn't quite so big, but at the show it was enormous.

And, you know, I have actually listened to "Nothing Ever Happened," but it didn't jump out at me recorded the way it did at the show. I'm just a sucker for watching indulgent, weird guitar solos on top of solid grooves. It was like watching Wilco shred "Kidsmoke"–I never really want it to end. Messy and inspired guitar solos are making a comeback this decade, mark my words.

They'll be at the Black Cat backstage, 1811 14th St. NW at 9 p.m. (with Insect Factory). $15.

Good morning!

I really want to make fun of this sale of paintings by Jerry Garcia, set for April 24-25 at the Bethesda Marriott. But it's a benefit for Haiti. Also, Jerry Garcia is still dead.

The Corcoran ended its "Turner to Cezanne" exhibit a few weeks early, WaPo reports, for the same reason I can never get any sleep at night: the temperature in the room was unpredictable.

WaPo's Hank Stuever reviews Treme, the new HBO series by the minds behind The Wire. He says the former has the potential to be better than the latter, but it also has an obstacle to overcome—not the complicated sociopolitics of post-Katrina New Orleans, where the series is set (well, maybe that, too). No, the writers are probably more worried about their that guy problem—specifically, that annoying guy at cocktail parties who says The Wire is the only show he watches.

Lil Wayne's prison job? To keep fellow inmates from killing themselves. Ponder that one.

Knight v. West.

Wilco (The Summer Festival). I swear this blog will never make that joke again.

In which Steve Kolowich, a Wilco devotee, and Ted Scheinman, a recent convert, discuss last night's show at the Strathmore.

Steve: Ted, you're a concert-going man. NPR has called Wilco "the best live band in America"; I've been talking your ear off about their chops for months; and your girlfriend has been burning CDs like it's her job to prepare you for the transfiguration you were meant to have undergone last night upon seeing the band play live for the first time. So my first question is: Did it live up to the hype?

Ted: First off, excellent reporting. It's true that I've been rotating Kicking Television on my wagon's negligible speakers for ca. six months now—partly out of laziness and mostly because of Nels Cline.

Who, incidentally, is a frightening figure to observe from the photo pit. His pinky finger is longer than my sister's hand.

So, yeah, lots of buildup. But they're definitely monsters in concert. The band covers so much ground—there's this loping thing with Tweedy in the middle, strumming unperturbed while Rome burns around him. From a bang-for-your-buck perspective, I can't bring to mind a band that maxes out the possibilities of live rock in the same way.

Though that acoustic set: dragged on a bit, no?

Steve: That seemed to be the consensus of the audience. You'll recall that at one point during that set, somebody in the crowd yelled "Turn it up!" Jeff Tweedy's response was my own: "I think you're sort of missing the point of this." The point being that after blasting us with "Bull Black Nova" and other noisy numbers, wouldn't it be nice to assemble a tiny living room on the foreground of the stage, let everyone have a seat, and take it easy with a warm, acoustic version of "Spiders (Kidsmoke)"?

The interlude also served as a good foil to what economists call "the diminishing marginal utility of Nels Cline's face-liquefying shreditude." I'm as entranced by the man and his alien digits as much as the next guy. But bear in mind that Wilco played three and a half hours; that's long enough to make anything lose its luster. Watching Cline wield a more delicate weapon for about an hour made it all the more satisfying to watch him rage against second-chair Pat Sansone during "Hoodoo Voodoo" near the end.

You've shredded an ax or two in your day, Ted. Who do you think won that battle? (Subquestion: Do you suppose when Woody Guthrie wrote "Hoodoo Voodoo," he'd have ever imagined it as a platform for a thrashing electric guitar contest?)

Ted: Yeah, the acoustic "Spiders" was definitely a surprise. (And, possibly, yet another instance of Tweedy fucking with us. Remember those Hawaiian windchimes in the coda to "California Stars"? What a cheeky bastard.) As for the chops-fest itself, I know you're siding with Sansone. My ballot goes to Cline, not just because he played more notes, but because during the call and response, he managed to fill each of his two-measure allotments with something more than nicely phrased blues-isms. Sansone was fantastic. But he sounded suspiciously like a Warren Haynes imitator in a roadhouse blues band. Whereas Nels Cline sounded like Nels Cline.

To answer your subquestion: I think Tweedy's cracks about Tea-Partiers would have offset Guthrie's distress at hearing his song so gloriously mangled.

I get what you're saying, pace-wise; if nothing else, the acoustic hour demonstrated that Wilco applies the same measured-dynamics approach to its concerts as it does to its songs. I also think that the median age of the audience (41?) meant that, when your skull wasn't getting rocked, you were getting contact sleepiness from the dude next to you wearing earplugs. (Also: Dude, really? Earplugs during the acoustic set? Are you gonna wear those to Jimmy Buffett in August?)

Steve: The dynamic between the band and the audience was amusing. The Strathmore is a beautiful, wood-paneled concert hall nestled deep in suburbia. And while Tweedy might be getting a little old for those skinny jeans he was filling out, I doubt he's accustomed to crowds that seem to have coordinated a country-club dress code, possibly via phone tree, so he couldn't help but make jokes about how he was worried they'd break the place and poke fun at our poor showing singing gang-lead on "Jesus, etc."

Also, some dude in the bathroom told me Rahm Emmanuel was on hand, entourage in tow. I can't verify that, although that guy in front of us who snapped at me for requesting "Handshake Drugs" may as well have been him. (What, not esoteric enough? Didn't stop you from dancing to it, friend-o.)

Assuming our audience is not as patient as Wilco's, we'd better cut to the closer: Highlight of the show?

Ted: Um, standing so close to Tweedy that I could've tuned his guitar?

I kid. Probably a tie between that final unraveling in "Via Chicago" and the time Tweedy ripped a Neil Young-once-removed solo for two minutes while standing on one leg. Also, it happened quick, but "I Hate It Here" got a great treatment last night.

How about you, old-timer?

Steve: Gah! I was going to say "Via Chicago." That song is Wilco's live show in a nutshell: It's soft, it's loud, it goes wild without ever losing control, and it feels like home.

But since you already said it, I'll go with "I'm The Man That Loves You," with Glenn Kotche leaping into the beat from atop his bass drum.

Thanks for the chat, Ted. Let's do this again—maybe loop in Rahm next time.

Photograph by Ted Scheinman

I was slightly less irked an hour later when a media advisory arrived in my inbox. In it, Jack Johnson held forth on generational responsibility. "This generation has an opportunity to be remembered as one that confronted environmental challenges and took responsibility for the future," Johnson writes. "With that opportunity comes the responsibility to speak out."

Given the choice between soulful apathy and smooth finger-pickin' self-importance, I roll eyes and side with Johnson. (Politically, that is. Forced to choose at gunpoint, I'd probably rather listen to Mayer's music.) So I pass along news that Johnson, as well as DMB and Pearl Jam and Phish and Wilco and the Decemberists and Raphael Saadiq (Saadiq!) and plenty others have donated handpicked songs from their Bonnaroo sets to anyone who writes his or her congressman re: climate change, and the reining-in thereof. Track list, 17 strong, below the jump.

Of course, if you're lazy, or you're giving your rep the silent treatment, or you're a climate-change denier who somehow still enjoys the festival circuit, click on the "Download Without Taking Action on Climate Change" button. We won't tell anyone. And Mayer would probably approve.

• Bull Black Nova ~ Wilco
• Animal ~ Pearl Jam
• Inaudible Melodies ~ Jack Johnson
• Rapunzel ~ DMB
• Cath... ~ Death Cab for Cutie
• Fuel ~ Ani DiFranco
• Kill Devil Falls ~ Phish
• Banks of the Deep End ~ Gov't Mule
• Delicate Few ~ O.A.R.
• Not Coming Down ~ moe.
• 100 Yard Dash ~ Raphael Saadiq
• Throwing Stones ~ Bob Weir & Ratdog
• And the Ladies Were the Rest of the Night ~ The Disco Biscuits
• The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid ~ The Decemberists
• Oh! Sweet Nothin' ~ My Morning Jacket
• Happier ~ Guster
• Box of Rain ~ Phil Lesh & Friends

There are some killer new arrivals over at Red Onion Records and Books. First off, there's the reissue on vinyl (!) of the Raincoats' classic debut album. The store has also got in new pressings from Folkways, the new Atlas Sound LP (pictured) as well as Cedric Brooks, Albert Ayler, Arthur Russell, Sun Ra, Wilco, and a killer soul-funk comp.

Used vinyl list after the jump.

rock:

neil young: self-titled

neil young: decade

allman brothers: at the fillmore

allman brothers: beginnings

black sabbath: self-titled

rolling stones: flowers

beach boys: surfs up

beach boys: wild honey/20/20 (2LP)

beach boys: summer days...

the beatles: rubber soul

the beatles: let it be

the beatles: love songs (2LP with book)

the beatles: in the beginning

the beatles: rarities

jefferson airplane: takes off (later pressing)

jefferson airplane: surrealistic pillow (later pressing)

dr. john: night tripper

glencoe: spirit of

grand funk railroad: live album (2LP, german pressing)

lou reed: take no prisoners (2LP, live)

bruce springsteen: born to run/the river/born in the usa/greetings from asbury park

rory gallagher: tattoo

family: fearless

family: music in a dolls house

family: entertainment (uk)

the paupers: ellis island (amazing cheap psych album)

leonard cohen: death of a ladies man

chris farlowe: greatest hits (uk, rolling stones related)

dusty springfield: a brand new me

dusty springfield: cameo

dusty springfield: see all her faces (uk)

lesley gore: girl talk

the byrds: untitled

the band: the last waltz

the doors: self-titled (gold label, vg+)

pink floyd: nice pair (piper at the gates of dawn)

pink floyd: atom heart mother

pink floyd: ummagumma

king crimson: discipline/beat/in the court of the crimson king/three of a perfect pair/red/lizard

del shannon: one thousand six hundred...

joni mitchell: blue

various artists: not so quiet on the eastern front (2LP, with inner sleeve and book)

various artists: rat music for rat people

various artists: eastern front

various artists: permanent wave

black flag: everything went black (2LP, first pressing with band's name airbrushed)

whipping boy: the sound of no hands clapping (rare 1st LP by CA band produced by klaus flouride)

faith: subject to change

jawbreaker: bivouac

shudder to think: get your goat

halfoff: the truth

meat puppets: huevos

bad manners: klass

the smiths: strangeways here we come

let's active: every dog has his day

new model army: ghost of cain

the clash: this is radio clash 12:

the clash: self-titled (us)

the clash: sandinista

the clash: give em' enough rope

depeche mode: broken frame

depeche mode: black celebration

depeche mode: catching up...

kraftwerk: trans-europe express

kraftwerk: autobahn

the specials: more specials

the specials: ghost town 12"

devo: are you experienced 12"

devo: freedom of choice

dead end kids: breakout (with poster!)

cocteau twins: blue bell knoll

cocteau twins: treasure

sex pistols: never mind the bollocks...

blondie: tide is high 12" (german)

specimen: batastrophe

redd kross: neurotica

the replacements: i will dare 12"

the replacements: let it be

the replacements: hootenanny

new york dolls: self-titled

alan vega: saturn strip

insect surfers: sonar safari (local new wave)

calculated x: self-titled (private press new wave)

julee cruise: floating into the night (produced by angelo badlamenti and david lynch)

au pairs: playing with a different sex

rem: dead letter office/green/fables of the reconstruction/document

talking heads: and she was 12"/remain in light/speaking in tongues/naked/little creatures

the police: syncronicity/regatta de blanc/outlandos d'amour

janes addiction: nothings shocking

grateful dead: in the dark

grateful dead: workingman's dead

george harrison: cloud nine

neil young: hawks & doves

blues image: open

sunkilmoon: tiny cities (mark kozelek doing modest mouse)

elvis costello: secret, profane & sugarcane

ryan adams & the cardinals: cardinology

jazz:

billie holiday: broadcast vol. 3 (esp)

jelly roll morton: 1938/1940

david matthews & whirlwind: shoogie wanna boogie

paul humphrey/shelly manne/willie bobo/louie bellson: drum session

gabor szabo: macho

lenny white: venusian summer

k. & j.j.: israel

ramsey lewis: funky serenity/upendo ni pamoja (2LP)

charles kynard: your mama don't dance (mainstream)

larry willis: inner crisis

richard groove holmes: six million dollar man

jimmy smith: black smith

junior mance: touch of

jack mcduff: fourth dimension

ray bryant: in the cut

mike longo: awakening (mainstream)

richard groove holmes: american pie

richard groove holmes: onsaya joy

pete yellin: dance of allegra (mainstream)

night blooming jazzmen: freedom jazz dance (mainstream)

george duke: save the country

eric kloss: essence

lonnie smith: mama wailer

johnny hammond smith: what's going on

funk/soul:

mandre: m3000

free movement: i've found someone

soul children: best of two worlds

purifys: pure sound of...

smokey robinson & miracles: anthology (3LP)

4 tops: best of (2LP)

jackie wilson: story (2LP)

solaris: self-titled

marz: make it right

marvin gaye: what's going on (later pressing)

marvin gaye: here my dear

various artists: lost soul vol. 1

black ivory: baby, won't you...

smokey robinson & miracle: one dozen roses

4 tops: nature planned it

mary wells: greatest hits

peggy scott & jo jo benson: lover's heaven

little anthony & the imperials: on a new street

esquires: get on up and get away

timmy thomas: why can't we live together

isley brothers: very best of (early tracks)

gloria lynne: dynamite!

big j: in 3-D

michael jackson: thriller

michael jackson: off the wall