Garth Hudsons Death at the age of 87 has the fans by The Band put into mourning. With this loss, none of the five musicians who made everything from “Music From Big Pink” up to “The Last Waltz” have made. “This is one thing that really makes you believe in a heaven,” says Wilcos Jeff Tweedy. “I don’t know if I do. But it is a beautiful thought to think of all hostilities being put aside and a moment of reunion in an idyllic place.”
Tweedy first met Hudson in 1992, when Uncle Tupelo was on tour with the later line-up of the band. Hudson has appeared on stage with Wilco several times over the years. Including memorable joint performances at the 2004 Newport Folk Festival and on the Bob Dylan/Wilco/My Morning Jacket Americanarama tour in 2013, Tweedy shared his memories of Hudson’s unique musical legacy with ROLLING STONE.
This interview has been lightly edited and condensed.
“Jeff, my machines are outraged generals”
It’s hard to imagine Garth being anything other than Garth. As with all of my favorite musicians, there is no one like him. He was a unique musician. Such people are hard to find. And immensely important for the people who follow them. They are the bright lights that you look at.

I remember that he [in den frühen Neunzigern] didn’t ride on the bus. He rode in the box truck with all the equipment. Because he liked to be there early, fiddling with his things and setting up his own rig. I distinctly remember us getting to the venue in New Haven, Toad’s Place, and he was there. They set up the equipment on stage. I went on stage to say hello. And he knelt on the floor and put a file to the threads of a drum stool he was sitting on. I said, “Garth, how are you?” And he said, “Jeff, my machines are outraged generals calling me from Bimini and saying, ‘Send more money.'” And I said, “That’s the coolest thing “What has anyone ever said to me?” I have no idea what he meant. But it kind of made sense. They were rambunctious little rascals who constantly caused him problems with all his equipment.
Once he wanted cake
We’ve crossed paths a few times over the years. He came to see Wilco and played with us. Usually when we played in Toronto. There were some requirements for Garth to come. They had to provide him with a place to take a nap before the show. And I think one time he wanted cake. In my opinion, these are all reasonable wishes. It was always nice to be hugged by someone like Garth. It really means something when a guy with so much willful power comes to your side.
Something like “Chest Fever” Playing with it was terrifying because it’s such an iconic song. I remember when we were rehearsing backstage, it was really difficult for us to keep the tempo he preferred, which was quite slow. But it was always great. I never got the impression that Garth had to think too much. He would just put his hands on the accordion or the keyboard and sound like himself and do things you wouldn’t expect from anyone else in the world. He was like a magician or something. Someone who had a magical connection to his own musicality.
Garth added Garthness
If you listen to any of the band’s records and focus on the atmosphere created by the keyboard textures, and then try to imagine the songs without them, it’s amazing how much work they do to hold things together . That’s one of the band’s wonders. Each of them had such an important role in shaping that sound. They had perhaps one of the most even distribution of talent of any band ever. And Garth added Garthness.
