Wilco gave the audience a preview of their upcoming album and a number of old hits at Point State Park on Sunday. Click photo for larger image.

Arts & Entertainment writers offer capsule comments on this, that and the other thing ...

Wilco

Easing into a second appearance in two years at the Three Rivers Arts Festival on Sunday with the low-key, country-flavored pop of "Company in My Back," Jeff Tweedy wasn't shy about exposing fans and casual observers alike to a healthy selection of songs from yet another Wilco masterpiece, "A Ghost Is Born," which doesn't hit the streets until June 22.

By the time the guys followed "California Stars" with a two-song encore of "Spiders (Kidsmoke)," a head-on collision of Krautrock and headbanging '70s rock, and "I'm a Wheel," a raucous explosion of post-punk abandon, they'd played all but two of the album's 12 songs. It's not the most stylistically cohesive album in the world. If "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" was their "Sgt. Pepper," then this is their "White Album," sprawling all over the map and taking Wilco with it, from the electronic throb of "Spiders" to the barnyard stomp of "Late Greats"; from the Beatlesque piano pop of "Hummingbird" to the album's most inspired cut, "At Least That's What You Said," a stunning show of force that evolved from nearly whispered verses steeped in sadness through a bludgeoning Crazy Horse power-chord stomp to a wide-open jam as transcendent in concert as it is on record.

As rewarding as it was to hear those new songs performed by a lineup that was only strengthened by the recent acquisition of guitarist Nels Cline and keyboardist Pat Sansone, several of the concert's highlights came from earlier releases. Three songs in, Wilco took a detour through a four-song "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" suite whose highlights began with a haunting performance of "Ashes of American Flags" and included an "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart" whose chorus was somehow more chaotic than the version on the record.

Every older song they played, in fact, found Tweedy and his latest bandmates investing the past with a sense of discovery, whether bringing extra texture to the Woody Guthrie folk-pop treasure "California Stars," or investing "A Shot in the Arm" with a greater intensity than the version on "Summerteeth." Several songs, both old and new, were marked by a Sonic Youth-worthy crescendo of chaos and feedback, but they sounded just as brilliant when stripping it down to just a vulnerable Tweedy vocal and the barest accompaniment imaginable on haunting post-Americana lullabies.

-- Review by Ed Masley

Keith Urban

Aussie Keith Urban has put to rest all concerns about whether the country hierarchy's new jewel could headline a major American tour. Sunday at the Post-Gazette Pavilion, Urban worked the crowd like a seasoned pro. In an industry that too often settles for pretty faces singing other people's songs, Urban filled a 90-minute set with mostly original material, picked his own electric and acoustic leads, wailed free-range vocals and showed more showmanship than a stable of stoic country heroes.

Shaking his blond locks out of his eyes and leaning into the mike, his bell-bottoms flapping in the breeze, Urban oozed '70s cool like the country-rock stars his music emulates. Bookending his show with scorching electric sets that included his hits "Where the Blacktop Ends," "Rainin' on Sunday," "But for the Grace of God" and "Somebody Like You," Urban wasn't afraid to stretch the guitar leads, milking enthusiasm from the crowd. Seated for a long, unpretentious acoustic set performed with and without his five-piece band, he showcased catchy, hook-laden material from his third solo album, due this year, and teased the crowd with covers of David Dundas' "Jeans On" and Tom Petty's "Free Fallin'."

Radio Y-108's annual Hot Country Jam offered a big tent of country variety. "Nashville Star" winner Buddy Jewel paired confident showmanship with his cavernous baritone, while a subsequent winner of the TV contest, Brad Cotter, played a short, sweet set of keyboard country that included his debut single, "I Meant To." Shedaisy disappointed -- the female trio's light country-pop sung in front of a static band was barely noticed by the crowd. But newcomer Dierks Bentley worked up a head of steam with a promising set that could someday help to earn the talented singer-songwriter his own summer headlining tour.

-- Review by John Hayes

Kansas

I don't tell just anybody this, but back in 10th grade, when "Leftoverture" came out, Kansas was my favorite band.

Then punk came along, and this and that, and most of my Kansas records ended up in the attic. Kansas had a few more hits, then a bunch of records no one cared about, and the band ultimately was relegated to the classic-rock bin, at times even to the dreaded rib festival. So Saturday night at the Chevrolet Amphitheatre, I expected a much crustier version of Kansas, one that couldn't play with the same sharpness or hit the harmonies right.

Surprisingly, Kansas 2004 seemed as potent as that band headlining the arena 25 years ago. Not that we can vouch for it every night. Pittsburgh is a second home to the Topeka band and, with a packed house and co-founder Kerry Livgren making a rare appearance, Kansas probably stepped up its game.

Nonetheless, violinist Robbie Steinhardt is a force of nature -- and would be wherever you put him. Looking as if he walked off of Mount Rushmore, Steinhardt fueled a lot of Kansas' jams with his searing melody lines, and when he stepped to the mike, the band's vocals were filled out immensely. Steinhardt took the lead on "Miracles out of Nowhere" and the driving stoner anthem "Bringing it Back" -- and he should have gotten more. While lead singer-keyboardist Steve Walsh, who stands at the side of the stage, is still in good voice, he's a classic '70s over-singer.

For old fans, it was pretty close to a dream set list. The band played most of "Leftoverture," the title track from "Song for America," a few from "Point of No Return" and a newer song, "Icarus II," that harked back to the old.

The best moments came when the core of Livgren, Rich Williams and Steinhardt -- looking like rugged old blue-collar workers -- gathered in front of drummer Phil Ehart to pound out their dense and precise jams. It speaks highly of their musicianship that they could be faithful to the album versions of such complicated songs.

After two hours of all-American prog, Kansas sent the crowd home smiling with a "Carry on Wayward Son" that hit every note and had all the energy of a band that can still put out way past its prime.

-- Review by Scott Mervis

Psychedelic Furs

If all of my friends who had promised to show up actually had shown up, it would have been a reunion befitting Romy and Michele. Unfortunately, once again, the unspoken threat of inclement weather (which conceivably single-handedly did in the '80s) on big hair and shoulder pads came into play and they didn't show.

It was their loss. Looking barely a day over two decades older than their Friday Post-Gazette photograph, the three Furs, augmented by a keyboard player and a powerful drummer, took the stage that night at Point State Park for a satisfying 75-minute show. While Tim Butler played bass and John Ashton churned out those familiar leads, focal point Richard Butler was in quintessential form.

It was all hands on hips and look-at-me spins and twirls for the Furs frontman. Prancing around like the last ponce and revolving his bejeweled forearm as if to say "Look! I've stolen Mummy's bracelet!" he was in good voice.

He also was having a great time, smiling and slapping audience members' hands after delivering a silly move as if to show that he, too, was over his campy stage persona. The Furs played some hypnotic stuff, including "Sister Europe" and "Imitation of Christ." There were rockers such as "President Gas" and an inspired "India." Then there were the hits. The lilting "Love My Way" and its companion piece, "Ghost in You," sounded timeless. "Heartbreak Beat" was delivered with the passion befitting its insistent chorus. The set closer, "Pretty in Pink" (of course), was elegiac. It got to the point where I almost forgot how much I missed the saxophone.

When it was done, I was more damp from dancing than from the light drizzle that fell upon the WYEP Festival Stage, and my shoulder pads were majestic.

-- Review by John Artale

'Fast Moving Cars'

The Clarks begin their latest effort with a Motor City beat to usher in a Costello-esque bass groove as lead singer Scott Blasey issues a challenge to drag.

"I've got a Civic to my right and he starts talking smack," he sings. "One thing I can't ignore is a punk like that/He's the devil I know or the devil I don't/Welcome to my dust and stones, goodbye."

Despite the album title and opening car song, though, "Fast Moving Cars," in stores today on Razor & Tie, finds the Clarks in a surprisingly reflective, grown-up mood.

Even the title track is a moody acoustic ballad that sounds like something Stephen Bishop should have done to follow "On and On" (in a good way), with Blasey weighing in on alcohol-fueled young-man dreams from the perspective that comes with growing older without giving up.

"Empty bottles on an empty stage," he sings. "End of story on the final page of a book that no one knows about/This is it/This is my last goodbye/This is where my dreams go to die/In the trash behind the record shop."

It's impossible not to read those lyrics as at least a little autobiographical, especially given the heartfelt performance. But it doesn't feel self-pitying, just honest and as open-wounded as anything you'll find on a Dashboard Confessional record.

Elsewhere, Blasey turns his attention to grown-up love songs ("Anymore" and "Wait a Minute"), assumes the role of a jaded drifter in a song about strippers and sin (confessing "I'm only saved 'cause I'm tired of sin") and eulogizes fallen soldiers from the "middle of the century" in the haunting album-closing "Train."

While Blasey still handles the vocals, all the Clarks contribute songs, with bassist Greg Joseph providing the opening track and the sing-along chorus of "Blue," drummer Dave Minarik Jr. coming into his own as a writer on his second Clarks song, "She Says Don't Miss Me," and lead guitarist Rob James supplying the raucous Replacements-esque rock of "You Know Everything" and a soulful mid-tempo pop ballad co-written by Bill Deasy ("Take Your Time").

The sound of the album is mainstream American rock as ripe for airplay as any recent Clarks recording. And any number of these songs could work as hits, from Joseph's "Shimmy Low" and "Blue" to "Anymore" and "Take Your Time." But the title track is the one that points the way to a new role for the Clarks as serious elder statesmen of the mainstream rock set, reflecting the new hopes and reimagined dreams of a generation raised on "Cigarette."

-- Review by Ed Masley