“What do you guys put in your chili in this town?,” Wilco lead singer Jeff Tweedy asked the audience at Bogart's Friday night.

        They answered cinnamon, but he insisted otherwise.

        “They put chocolate,” he joked. “We took it to the lab to get it tested. Twice.”

        Either way the band gave a sweet performance. And the crowd ate it up.

        The Chicago band played a selection of tunes from their latest album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, which has been hailed by some, as the year's best album, and has drawn comparisons to some of the Beatles' later work.

        The night opened with alt-rock group Preston School of Industry, a fine choice to tour with Wilco. Tantalizing the audience with amazing guitar riffs, the band displayed some discordant sounds, much like those prevalent in Wilco's music.

        As smoke drifted up into the rafters, the view of the stage was obscured, but the sounds of “Pure Imagination” fromWilly Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, came through clearly an hour later as Wilco came to the stage.

        The off key chords, combined with the blue and red stage lights shining through the fog, produced a trippy effect. The crowd roared its approval as Mr. Tweedy, backed by a kaleidoscopic array of chimes and strings, stepped out and began crooning, “I am an American aquarium drinker. I assassin down the avenue.”

        The crowd loved the bit from “I am Trying to Break Your Heart” and people condensed themselves so tightly around the stage they could barely get their hands up to welcome the band.

        Wilco stuck mostly to their newer material, but did offer up some vestiges of their alt-country roots, notably their rendition of “Sunken Treasure.” The song was featured on the album,Being There, a turning point for the band, as they began experimenting with the eclectic sound featured on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.

        Though not strictly an alt-country tune, “Sunken Treasure” is an ethereal piece backed by a low humming bass and peppered with folksy guitar rhythms. The musicians attacked their instruments with such ferocity, it was surprising their speakers didn't explode.

        As Mr. Tweedy blew into his harmonica the music morphed into a techno, almost tribal-like beat with a bit of surf rock styling.

        Wilco proved they obliterate genres and defy labels, as well as explanation. Their music is an enigma, but as the song “War on War” states with such lyrics as, “You have to learn how to die if you want to be alive,” they're unafraid to take risks.

        If there were any justice in the music industry, Wilco would be playing arenas, if not stadiums, at this career point. And judging from the audience Friday night, they may soon outgrow theater venues like Bogart's.

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