thebur

This is the only problem I have, and it is strictly personal. I do not begrudge Wilco the extra VW money to feed their children and get them a good edumacation, however, my first night in New York Sunday I was watching "Frasier" and saw the commercial featuring "Sky Blue Sky". When they played that song live all I could thing about was the episode of "Frasier", and it wasn't a very good one.

See now I have had the opposite reaction to Wilco on TV. I am I guess what you would call an old fan (started listening with Being There, and have everything blah blah, went to 9 shows including the most recent I have attended and possibly best at Merriweather Post Pavillion) and I really have no objection to the commercials. I agree with the sentiment that if you do not let selling your music dictate the way you make your music, then you aren't selling out, you just happen to make good stuff that people like listening to. That brings me to my second point.

I LOVE listening to Wilco, the CD's and mp3's get far more play than anything in my catalogue to the tune of 75 or so iPod plays already for SBS. Anytime I hear Jeff's voice, my day is a little better, and the commercials are no exception. Yeah, maybe now a whole bunch more people will get into a band that I love and think is the most talented group of musicians playing together on the planet. Did I like being one of a handful of Wilco fans back in 1997? Yes. Would I like to see Wilco get more recognition and go down in History as a band that is a full-fledged rock legend? Yes. If it were up to me they would be right on par with the Beatles, Stones, and other acts that are recognized as those type of artists.

I don't know why we seem to want to have everything to ourselves, but to me that is one of the greediest and most selfish things we could say to our favorite artists. Yes, I love you work, and I really hope you are very unsuccessful in getting other people to hear it.

exact same situation for me.

All those songs are great... I have to say that the first track that really grabbed me from that album was the title track.

Like a cloud his fingers explode

On the typewriter ribbon, the shadow grows

His hearts in a bowl behind the bank

And every evening when he get home

To make his supper and eat it alone

His black shirt cries

While his shoes get cold