Meet Uncle Tupelo Lite : The Cult Favorite Reorganizes, Re-Energizes and Gets a New Name--Wilco. But Can the Band Cut It With the Fans?

“Somebody at the airport asked us what kind of band we were,” says Jeff Tweedy, formerly of the country-powered underground band Uncle Tupelo and now leader of its spinoff, Wilco. “I said, ‘Well, we’re kinda country.’ She said, ‘No!’ I said, ‘Wanna bet?’ ”

True: Tweedy’s appearance--today he’s wearing a green polyester sports jacket over a ‘70s-style striped dress shirt--doesn’t exactly scream Nashville. But peeking out from under all the toxic garb is a T-shirt that reads “Bill Monroe Country.” It’s the article of clothing closest to Tweedy’s heart.

Like the critically acclaimed Uncle Tupelo, Wilco combines the sweet/sad feel of the Flying Burrito Brothers with a gruff, raised-on-indie-rock edge.

The lyrics and music on its recently released debut album, “A.M.,” are more relaxed than those of the moody Tupelo. During the course of the record, Tweedy paints vivid pictures of sorry drunk drivers who’ve lost their licenses, couples who’ve lost their individual identities, and casino queens who’ve lost their cash.

Wilco’s accessibility is something Tupelo fans might have expected, as Tweedy was always considered the lighter and sweeter half of his songwriting partnership with the more brooding Jay Farrar.

Tweedy, 26, who formed Wilco last year following Farrar’s abrupt exit from Uncle Tupelo, laughs at the description. “You mean I’m the wimp? I don’t know about the sweeter side of things, but I’m definitely poppier and more interested in melody.

“I think this album is significantly different. It’s pretty immediate, as opposed to Tupelo’s records, which you had to listen to more to get into.” Tweedy, whose new band contains the other four Tupelo members along with new guitarist Jay Bennett, doesn’t attribute Tupelo’s breakup to the stylistic differences between himself and Farrar. But he seems unclear on exactly what happened.

“Jay just quit. He just said, ‘I’m leaving.’ I don’t know why, although I could theorize, but that wouldn’t make a difference. What’s important is that we kept on playing. We never thought to quit. Everyone feels it freshened the band in a lot of ways, and now there’s a real enthusiasm.” (Farrar was not available for comment.)

Tweedy grew up in Belleville, Ill., 25 miles east of St. Louis. That’s where Uncle Tupelo formed and where Tweedy lived until last year, when he relocated to Chicago. The youngest of four in a working-class family, he grew up listening to his siblings’ Rolling Stones and Dylan albums and his parents’ Duane Eddy records.

He started a punk and ‘60s cover band in high school with Farrar, and the two went on to write their own songs and form Uncle Tupelo in 1987. The band signed with the New York independent label Rockville in 1989.

The band would put out four albums with the label while working its rough, punk-based sound into a more rootsy feel. It signed to the major label Reprise in 1992 and put out its last album, “Anodyne,” a year later.

Wilco won’t have it easy in light of Uncle Tupelo’s exalted status in underground and critical circles.

“I try not to think about it too much, although I know it’s something I’ll have to address,” he admits. “But now it’s a different band with a different name. Hopefully, it will be seen that way.”

Tweedy, an optimist, considers Tupelo’s breakup a rebirth.

“Everybody is definitely in a different place emotionally. We came out of a melodramatic end to a band that we were all pretty happy with. We just wanted to go and have a good time more than anything else, and that’s pretty much what we’ve accomplished so far.”

* Wilco plays Friday at the Whisky 8901 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood, 8 p.m., $12. (310) 652-4202; Saturday at the Galaxy Theatre, 3503 S. Harbor Blvd., Santa Ana, 8 p.m., $15. (714) 957-0600.