Review: 31 Songs, Three Hours and One Very Good Night With Wilco

On June 12, 2026, Wilco made their Meijer Gardens debut, playing 31 songs over nearly three hours. Truth in advertising: this was indeed an evening with Wilco. And for the packed audience—the show was sold out—that was cause for celebration.

The show, which featured no opening act, was divided into two setlists split by a short intermission. The first set opened with “Handshake Drugs.” “If I ever was myself,” Jeff Tweedy sang, “I wasn’t that night.” The song, a highlight of 2004’s A Ghost Is Born, started amiably, settling into a groove as comfortable as an old sweatshirt. By the end, though, it took off for gnarlier territory, fitting for a song about the anxious, frantic quality of addiction.

Throughout the evening, the best songs were the ones given the most room to breathe. It’d be going too far to call Wilco a jam band—Tweedy writes traditional songs, sometimes tinged by country or the blues—the tightness of the band shone most strongly when they let themselves stretch out their legs. Percussion locked into place, guitars stabbed, and it all came together in stunning climaxes.

The crowd was all in. People danced; pumped water bottles in the air like fists; sang along to “War On War,” “I Am Trying To Break Your Heart,” “Jesus, Etc.,” and others. A girl of maybe six or seven took her father’s camera, confidently walked to the front row, and took great pictures. Another dad carried around what looked like an orange-colored IKEA bag. The strap said Wilco, though, not IKEA. A child popped his or her head out of the bag, smiling.

After intermission, the band returned for a set even more propulsive than the first. “Spiders (Kidsmoke)” was powerful enough that you could almost imagine the band trading in their indie scruff for black t-shirts and motorcycle boots—for metal, in other words. Chunky, stomping songs like that shared space with more intimate numbers like “Jesus, Etc.,” with its unfussy warmth (“Jesus, don’t cry / you can rely on me, honey / you can come by any time you want”). Somehow, it all worked.

Wilco was probably at its most prominent culturally after the release of 2001’s critically acclaimed Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. (Released at the end of September of that year, its lyrics took on an eerie new aftermath in the wake of the destruction of the twin towers—“buildings shake / voices escape singing sad, sad songs”). The setlist did draw a good portion from that album—five songs, which A Ghost Is Born tied—but Wilco’s not a nostalgia act, and newer songs were just as exciting, if not more.

For an encore, they played three songs: “The Late Greats,” “I Got You (At The End of the Century,” and “Outtasite (Outta Mind)”. In “The Late Greats,” Tweedy sings of songs so good you’ll never hear them on the radio and bands so good they’ll never get signed. Wilco’s career’s a reminder that sometimes the best bands make it after all.

“I know where I’ll be tonight,” he sang on “Outtasite (Outta Mind)”. You could say the same about the crowd. Then again, they were already there. It was a joyous, upbeat number, the perfect way to close what veered awfully close to being a perfect show.