Ashes of American Flags

By: Emberly Modine

February 26, 2009

Last night, as part of the Noise Pop Festival in San Francisco, the Roxy presented the Wilco tour movie, Ashes of American Flags.

I have always loved the Roxy theatre.  In a room absent of any frivolous adornment, black rows of chairs gently slope down to a white screen that covers almost all of the back wall.  Beneath the sceen, a huge golden Academy Award statue is layed out in a coffin-like box, arms crossed over its chest.  This, for me, has always symbolized how this is a place where the Hollywood mainstream will never live.  The Roxy is the venue of the seldom seen, the rarely represented, the box office nobodies…  In other words, the projectors at the Roxy reel nothing but quality.

The theater filled up quickly with people chattering loudly above the Bob Dylan songs that were playing. As the lights dimmed and everyone fell into silence, punctuated by the occasional popcorn kernel rolling down the rows. As the film started, we were greeted with visions of touring across the United States.  Small towns with empty storefronts whip by outside tour-bus windows, cities fade into the distance, and livestock stare back from their pens.  Eventually we end up at a soundcheck in an empty hall — Cains in Tulsa Oklahoma, the band is playing “Ashes of American Flags” and Jeff Tweedy is resplendent in a white suit embroidered with glittery birds and roses.

“The cash machine is blue and green
For a bundle of twenties and a small service fee
I could spend three dollars and sixty-three cents
On Diet Coca-Cola and unlit cigarettes
I wonder why we listen to poets when nobody gives a fuck
How hot and sorrowful, the machine begs for luck

 

All my lies are always wishes
I know I would die if I could come back new

We want a good life with a nose for things
the fresh wind and bright sky to endure my suffering
I’m a hole without a key if I break my tongue
Oh, speaking of tomorrow, how will it ever come?”

Wilco, for me, has always been the quintessential bar band that, out of sheer virtuosic talent, have managed to transcend these humble roots to become one of the most creative and solid American rock and roll groups.

This film goes over their early times, the roots of each musician, what they think of each other both musically and personally, as well as the early gigs played. Their first big break was Tipitinas in New Orleans, and we were rewarded with great footage of the show.

Overall, the narrative is very revealing of this great group of guys and an interesting story — but it’s the live footage that really steals the show.  Anyone who has had the good fortune to see Wilco live will tell you how Tweedy’s voice is just as impressive live as it is recorded, and given their epic set lengths, you walk away with newfound (or redoubled) respect for their endurance and their ability as musicians to flawlessly build upon their own songs to create a consistently unique experience.  This film captures this all in a compelling way, and will no doubt make any gearhound happy — you get a full show of all of their guitars and other equipment.

For anyone who loves tour movies and anyone who loves Wilco, this is a must-see.  Keep your eye out for it. You can watch the trailer on the movie’s website.