By Zach Schonfeld
Original Source: newsweek.com
Last year, in the same month he turned 50, Jeff Tweedy lost his father to lung cancer.
Loss has a way of shifting one’s mind to the past. The Wilco frontman was already buried in reminiscence. He was in the middle of writing a memoir, recounting his life story: his punk awakening in a depressed Illinois town known as the Stove Capital of the World, his formative years slumming it in the influential alt-country group Uncle Tupelo, his struggles with anxiety and drug addiction, and, of course, his war stories as the leader of Wilco, the Chicago band that has come to be uniquely beloved by fans of raggedy, progressive-minded indie-rock.
And then his father, a railroad employee of nearly five decades, died, with son and daughter and grandchildren singing “I Shall Be Released” by his bedside. When Tweedy recalls that day, his voice grows faint. “My dad’s girlfriend, Melba, was holding his hand and telling him to go ahead because Jo Ann—that’s my mom—is waiting for him. I don’t believe in that. But I’m sitting there, holding his…click here to continue reading