Sometimes, adversity is the better part of great rock 'n' roll -- something the members of Wilco abundantly proved Tuesday night at a packed show at The Cave.

At midnight -- the time when most clubs in this town are sweeping up and switching off the lights -- Wilco staggered onstage, looking a little worse for the wear-and-tear of a day they would probably prefer to forget.

Had the show been half-measured and tentative, it would have been understandable. But it was a triumph.

They were stopped at the Canada-U.S. frontier, and their bus driver was refused entry because of a prior run-in with the law -- something to do with guns and drugs.

With their bus and equipment waiting at the border, singer Jeff Tweedy and guitarist Jay Bennett found a ride to Ottawa for some radio interviews, but their new driver got lost and by the time they got it sorted out, they were on their way to Quebec City! Finally, the band members and their equipment were reunited at The Cave 45 minutes prior to showtime. Tweedy gloomily announced he had been awake for 48 hours.

Yet what followed was a 90-minute tour through Wilco's two albums -- with heavy representation from their rightfully acclaimed Being There -- as well as a trip through Tweedy's back-pages with the pioneering alterna-country band Uncle Tupelo.

Their opening rendition of Misunderstood was, if anything, more majestic and joltingly cacophonous than on the record, and that remained true for much of the set. Live, the songs from Being There were given new urgency.

Kingpin's flatulent keyboard riff snowballed into a massive white noise freak-out and a feedback-spike take on Dueling Banjos. Monday's horn fills were effectively reconfigured for steel guitar. Red-Eyed And Blue, Outtasite (Outta Mind) and I Got You (At The End Of The Century) were treasures and Casino Queen, I Must Be High and Box Full Of Letters (the latter punctuated by Tweedy with an ill-advised stage-dive) from their debut album, AM, finally got a response from the standoffish audience.

Although they have landed on every critic's hit list, Wilco has been slow to penetrate the popular imagination. But radio is starting to warm to the group's mingling of Replacements-style guitar rock and country roots. And I couldn't help but come away with the feeling that Wilco won't be playing subterranean clubs for long.

The all-gal guitars and drums duo September 67 opened the night with a disarming display of austere pop that was an unexpected delight. If anything, the bare-bones sound made me wish they'd taken that approach with their solid new album, Lucky Shoe.

SUN RATING: 4.5 OUT OF 5