Reflections on the latest installment of Wilco’s weekend festival in North Adams, Massachusetts—and a few that preceded it. It’s a cold, rainy October night in 1997—perhaps a redundant weather report for Vancouver. I get out of a cab in front of the Starfish Room. At the same time, from a white Econoline tour van parked in front of the club emerges a plaid-clad boilerman and we meet at the door, head up the treacherous damp staircase together.