Article Contributed by Stites McDaniel
Published on October 15, 2025
When I was a kid, cool things had an edge, an air of the unknown. My next-door neighbor Jimmy was cool. You never knew where you’d end up with him — a farm? Training pit bulls? The possibilities were endless, with the only constant being Jimmy. I quickly understood that cool could be scary — and you did it anyway. As I grew, while cool became more complex, the edge remained. For me, that edge came alive again at Jeff Tweedy’s Higher Ground 2025 performance, where cool and courage met. For his entire career, Jeff Tweedy has been an architect of the edge, an embodiment of cool.
The poetic and band-leading chops of Jeff Tweedy aside, I didn’t know what to expect from the music as I made my return to Higher Ground, but was happy to find the room hadn’t changed. Perhaps slightly oversold, I had to squeeze through countless hipsters, avoiding any judgmental looks through black-rimmed glasses, heading for the photo pit before the first song. As usual, I wasn’t able to make the opener, but since Sima Cunningham was not just the opener but a member of the headlining band, I knew I’d get to hear what she had to offer.
Starting the night off with “KC Rain,” I was immediately reminded of the imagery of Jeff Tweedy’s poetry. And before we go any further, it is crucial that you understand that Tweedy is not just a musician. He is a poet of the highest caliber. He can use simple phrases to create images, emotions, and suppositions in the listener. Hearing, “I was born a little sad, I never knew what I had / Mom and Dad let it slide / No wonder I’m never satisfied,” allows the listener to think about the child that Jeff was and how that has resulted in the melancholic tone he takes in his music as an adult.
Next up, the band eased into “Betrayed,” and the other Tweedys began to show their place in this band. Spencer Tweedy, Jeff’s son, showed his simple, precise drumming style and how it could blend with the assembly of strings in a groovy way. The sounds don’t immediately merge, but layered, different sounds have long been a staple of Jeff Tweedy’s songs, regardless of the project. As has exploring the far reaches of a chord structure — an art often expressed by the playing of Nels Cline in Wilco, but being taken on by Jeff on lead electric during “One Tiny Flower.” The alt-country sound that is part of everything Jeff Tweedy does began to seep out during this textured masterpiece, with the bass lines and flirty drums juxtaposed with the violin’s long-held, multi-string notes.
I feel that I took my first breath of the night after this third song, and it was the loudest thing in the room off the stage. The crowd was barely moving. Barely breathing. Mesmerized. Although “Caught Up in the Past” has a fast-paced, swing beat, deftly executed by the steady hand of Spencer Tweedy, the song and its message could be from any of Jeff’s projects. His cynical take on what he is seeing and its inability to last is a masterclass in self-realization and not taking yourself too seriously.
“I hear people in love with a love that just can’t last.”
As the crowd settled into the set, it was clear that this band’s record and the Tweedy duo record were the primary sources the setlist was pulled from. So if you were there to hear Wilco tunes, oh well. But Wilco doesn’t have the same five-part harmonies, with soprano being heard and featured, or as many chances for Jeff to solo on a different guitar for each song. Later in the show, when someone asked Jeff how many guitars he had, he answered, with tongue firmly in cheek, “That’s none of your business.” The alt-country sound was there but mixed in with some psychedelic solos, layered on top of consistent riffs from the drums, keys, and bass. Not to mention the feeling of Motown doo-wop with the style of backing vocals the band offered. Songs about stupid proms and love lost at the fair. Songs giving Sammy Tweedy an opportunity to step out from behind his keyboard and take lead vocals while his dad soloed over eerie violin sounds. “Low Key” reminded me that Jeff has some punk in his style too — another layer on top of the sweet harmonies, profound poetry, and country guitar playing that makes a challenging yet totally satisfying song. Remember, cool is hard, but so worth it.
I’ve heard stories of an angry version of Jeff Tweedy from his early years as a performing musician. But since I have only been watching his shows for the past 15 years or so, I would describe him as cynical but thoughtful. He may be a glass-half-empty guy, but he knows that other people may have an opinion too, and he doesn’t think everyone should be on his side. Too many people on the same side is never cool, and Jeff will fight you to stand alone. So while the modern-day Jeff will do stage introductions and fawn over his bandmates, he is only half kidding as he finishes up by telling the audience, “But enough about everybody else.”
Perhaps the lyrics from the band’s next tune, “Evergreen,” truly embody Jeff’s vision of what he is doing with his life: “If I get back from wherever I travel / I’ll tell you what I’ve seen / The good and the bad / The hearts and the hassle / In the cities under siege.” Perhaps Jeff isn’t a pessimist at all, but a realist. The glass is half empty, but there is no denying that.
Whether it’s in the next song “Mirror” or “The Stray Cats in Spain,” Jeff is showing the differences and similarities to his other projects. He is adding synthesized sound, giving a prog-rock feel, but layered string parts with an eerie reverberation all over beautiful harmonies. These songs don’t have time to get repetitive. All gas, no brakes.
I was glad that Jeff confirmed my observation about the crowd, noting that when he looked out, “A lot of you look like ChatGPT versions of me.” This was something he saw as both sad and funny at the same time — a perfect segue into “Out in the Dark,” where we all were, at least when the stage lights were down, with its ’80s synth parts and percussion-led closing phrase. Jeff had picked up a half-moon-shaped electric at this point in the show — a spectacle as well as the perfect grunge-sounding guitar for this tune.
The rest of the set allowed the band to add more and more layers and show more and more influences on their sound. The driving beat of “Flowering” complimented the heavy chord solo taken by Jeff. The tribal sound of the drumming laid over some of the evening’s most beautiful harmonies on “New Orleans.” The style of Pink Floyd’s driving bass lines pushing through “Diamond Light, Part 1.” By mixing free, improvisational sounds over steady melodies, the complexity of the music highlights the ebbs and flows that Tweedy intends. The music mirrors what is happening all around these songwriters. Some things stay the same while many others change, creating a bevy of emotions.
In the final quarter of the set, “Feel Free” was a highlight, with lyrics recognizing that you may choose to do some extreme things and you may not even represent your true feelings — but that’s your choice: “Carry a torch in the street / Say you’re full when we know you’re empty / Feel free.”
It was in this final stretch that I realized that the drumming of Spencer Tweedy was comparable to Levon Helm. His drumsticks were popping up more than they were hitting down. His sound is minimalist but creates a true driving rock and roll sound.
When the band came back for the encore that “we all knew was coming,” according to Jeff, I could see the fun that Jeff was having. He talked about how he had seen this band grow up — some in his home and some playing alongside his boys. He talked about each player and all of their projects as if he was just another member of hard-working garage bands, and some version of them were sure to make it. That may be what has kept Jeff on the edge and so cool for so long. He never seems to play like he has made it. He is always pushing and challenging music with image-heavy poetry and complex musical patterns. Unlike the poor soul who left the front row as the encore began, and was rightfully called out by Jeff from the stage, I wouldn’t tear myself away, because each song was so much like the last and so unique at the same time. So many reasons that Tweedy is cool.
