February 18, 1997
Triumph of the Wilco
By BEN RAYNER
Tuesday, February 18, 1997

WHAT with the steaming mountain of accolades heaped by the music press upon Wilco's latest recording, Being There, you'd think front man Jeff Tweedy would have developed a hefty ego by now.

But the soft-spoken singer- songwriter-guitarist -- whose last band, Uncle Tupelo, drew its fair share of hosannas before splitting up in 1994 -- seems unfazed at having turned out an album hailed with near unanimity as one of the finest of 1996.

"A lot of people who get records for free like it, I guess," says Tweedy, on the phone from his home in Chicago in advance of the band's appearance tonight at the Cave.

"It was nice. I try not to think about it too much ... You make a record and you hope people like it."

It's hard not to like Being There -- two discs, 19 songs and some 80 minutes of all-over-the-place rock 'n' roll that invokes the spirits of Sgt. Pepper-era Beatles, the Rolling Stones, CCR, Neil Young, the Beach Boys and pretty well everything else in your record collection, and still sounds fresh, honest and original.

The band never set out to make its second record a double album, Tweedy explains.

"I knew I had a lot of material -- I always have a lot of material," he says. "I write all the time, and I'd set aside 12 or 13 songs I wanted to record."

Wilco puttered around and put 10 or 11 songs to tape in the weeks leading up to the "official" sessions for Being There, but -- since the band had booked another three weeks of studio time in advance -- decided to keep plugging away.

"We started joking about it being a double record and, by the time we got to mixing ... we just felt that the record needed to be big and stupid and sprawling."

Tweedy adds that the album's extended length contributed to its eclecticism.

"If you cut out three songs, there would be three styles and three ideas that wouldn't be on the record at all ... We just like to think we can do anything. We'll probably do a disco record next."

The band -- whose status as critical darlings has yet to translate into huge record sales -- even agreed to take a cut in royalties ("It's a percentage of nothing -- it could be noble or not," says Tweedy) so the double set could sell for the price of a single CD.

Whatever its commercial fate, it's safe to say Being There -- which has already outsold Wilco's 1994 debut, A.M. -- has finally edged Tweedy and fellow Uncle Tupelo-to-Wilco transplants John Stirrat, Max Johnston and Ken Coomer out from under the shadow of their former band.

"I had a good time playing in that band, and I'm reasonably proud of the records we made and that people still listen to them," says Tweedy.

"But I like to think the best stuff's ahead of me."