Last night Wyatt, Jeff and I, escorted by the lovely Whitney, went to see Wilco and Low at Warsaw. It was FUCKING GOOD. So fucking good, in fact, that it has widened the range of all things good. There is a new high and it is seeing Wilco at Warsaw.

If you haven't been to Warsaw, it is a venue located in the Polish National Home in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. They serve pierogies, kielbasa and Zywiec (proper pronunciation: zee-vee-etch) in the bar area. The room with the stage is not unlike my elementary school cafetorium - a big, high-ceilinged box with a raised stage up front. It's VERY small for Wilco. They sold out two nights in a row at Radio City, for crying in the sink.

It was crowded. And hot. And sweaty. Wyatt had to go to the back after a while in search of water and air and I don't blame him. It was tight up there. Here's a view from where we were:


They played old stuff (a couple songs, at least, from Being There) and my favorite stuff from the new album. They even played HOODOO VOODOO. I couldn't believe it.

Tweeds was in great voice and in a great mood. He was all smiley and stuff!

The only drawback to the evening (besides the heat) was something I've complained about before: people singing along. It is so annoying. There are times and places and you should know that by now, you stupid hippies.

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