Rating:   21 Ratings     12345  

Wilco A Ghost is Born Nonesuch

      Ghost is less of an overall masterpiece in comparison to the album before it, but a great record nonetheless. The addition and subtraction of minds and members has resulted in a progressive sound with heavy doses of tweaked guitar sounds and wandering tracks that keep the same frame of mind as Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, but clearly draw a line of difference between the two. Where all of the ideas and quirks of Yankee were fresh and exciting (for listener and band alike I'm sure) they have become a basis for growth with the new disc. A Ghost Is Born is an entirely new bag of tricks worth opening and toying with. Ever since forever, songwriter Jeff Tweedy's lyrics have toed the line between heartfelt poetry and literary hieroglyphics and over the past few years it seems like the music is catching up to the words. As great as Wilco's country side was/is, what they have become is just so damn exciting.

      The opener, "At Least That's What You Said," starts very quietly as Tweedy's voice is set against piano and the slightest bit of electric guitar. Where it finally ends is a world apart. Guitar mayhem takes over and the album's thesis is proclaimed. Once again you have to sit and listen to a Wilco album and think about what these guys are doing. Charting the change from one song's beginning to end is just like looking at the music from album to album, trying to get the full picture isn't easy, but rewarding in spades. Between the aforementioned guitar work and that of, "Hell Is Chrome" and "Spiders (Kidsmoke)," the second and third tunes, it is clear that the band hasn't lost a step between this album and the last.

      It's not just the guitars that make these songs so good. There is always a sort of fascinating level of creativity in the structure of even Wilco's most "poppy" songs. Always askew from your whimsical three verse ditty, this album makes it impossible to idle by for four-and a half minutes without getting mentally enslaved. Just as you get lost in the repetition of "Spiders" and the third consecutive long guitar solo, the tune shifts completely and you're somewhere else. The chords end and you hear a high note or two where another solo would usually take off in an array of pyrotechnics, but instead it just disappears. Comparatively, there is no other song on the record store shelves that sounds anything like this. It's together, it falls apart, it coalesces. It moves. Many times on this album Wilco just gives a glimpse of predictability then shoots away from it as far as possible. Amp feedback is used as a quick sound effect rather than a lengthy droll. It's the subtleties in Wilco's music that have always put them over the top for me as a listener. On a larger scale, one can recall tracks like "Misunderstood" and "Radio Cure" where the drums were teased and toyed with until, finally they enter and complete the song. Using the same technique, but applying it much differently, the story continues on.

      "Muzzle Of Bees" offers another midsong shift very similar to that of "Liquidation Totale" on the Loose Fur record. More classic Tweedy lit here as well as a very subtle use of strings once or twice leads the album down a lighter avenue than it had been coasting previously. The string piece is quite interesting on this tune because it is buried and passes quite quickly while the next song, head nodder, "Hummingbird" features prominent and beautiful string accompaniment. The song reaches out and pulls you in several times between the verse and chorus and tells a great little story in classic Wilco rag. As you realize that Tweedy is switching back and forth from the first and third person, you have to wonder who he is telling the story to and more interestingly, who the chorus is meant for.

      "Handshake Drugs" is a pretty classic Wilco tune in every way. A little more fleshed out than the More Than The Moon version, this tune would fit in perfectly on Summerteeth and whirrs itself right into a Yankee Hotel type of ending. Members of the band have never been shy in discussing Wilco's process of creating a song, then ripping it apart and trying it a few different ways. They've even included two versions of the same song on albums a few times, so while these changes to the other version aren't surprising, they definitely shed some light on space station Ghost and the Wilco mantra altogether.

      At the album’s midpoint, we see one song end in a blur of spacey noise and feedback while the first song of the album’s second half (“Wishful Thinking”) begins in a somewhat similar array of clanks and clutters backed and then faded with smooth atmospherics. Between the two tracks there is just enough silence to imply a Side A / Side B theme. As the song chimes in fully, a series of movements are revealed. While there is a bonafide chorus here, the sounds behind it come in and fall away just in time for the verse to return in something that is just a step beyond anything I’ve ever heard before. The high tones behind the acoustic guitar that drag each chorus out and lead to the light crashes in each verse create the exact feel that recent Wilco music has been all about. Songs that would sound great with just some guitar, bass, and drums are morphed into something incredible by tastefully tweaking the sound and experimenting. More than a test of the ears, this sound tests the mind and its ability to hear music that is unpredictable and different.

      Glenn Kotche may deserve more credit than he’s given in the musical craft. The man is so much more than a drummer and there is no better evidence of this than the standout tune, “Company in My Back.” Beyond the drums, he is on percussion and hammer dulcimer here in a more straightforward song that is as relaxed musically as it is lyrically perplexing. While Tweedy is, more often than not, in the spotlight in Wilco world, his bandmates are superb at giving a song exactly what it needs far beyond staying in the pocket, yet somehow no one person ever steals the show. This song is primarily driven by the work of Kotche, yet Tweedy can still make a profound statement like:

      From something so easy on the ears to something that requires a little work, Ghost works into the rocker, “I’m a Wheel.” One listen really doesn’t do this one justice. I myself wasn’t a fan, until I read the lyrics. While a little humorous, the words are actually kinda thought provoking, but it is a stretch to say that this tune completely fits with the rest of the album. Having survived the guitar fury that opened the albums first few cuts, I guess it does make sense to have a balls out rocker on the disc considering the personnel. Amidst all of the nu` Wilco, if you will, that there is to be had on this record, it is nice to see something a little playful and easy and while I can’t say that I don’t skip this track occasionally, its definitely worth hearing.

      Proof positive that this band’s new sound is much more than just long tracks filled with noise comes, “Theologians,” a sparse three and-a-half minute song that conjures a small piece of every Wilco era into one solid track. From the lyrics to Stirratt’s classic background vocals, it goes as quickly as it comes, showing that this new lineup can play out a concise quick tune a la albums past and that the old timers have the same great thing that’s been there from day one. For all of the weird, fun, experimental, heavy, crazy sounds we’ve heard from Wilco over the past 2 (even 3) albums, they can still put out one of the best simple songs to be heard for miles. I guess that’s what makes this story so darned innaresting, in my eyes each era, each new thing has been cooler than the one it replaced and its all just a timeless piece of history that you don’t see from every decade-plus old band.

      Would a Wilco record be complete without a quiet, heartfelt Tweedy vehicle? Would a new Wilco let that song just sit by itself in solitude and simplicity?? What does he mean when he says, “There’s so much less to this than you think”???

      When all is said and done for the second to last track, “Less Than You Think,” one could get the impression that this is the end of a movie and you’ve just been assured a sequel of some sort. As cerebral as YHF and Ghost have been (whether intentional or just falling into personal theory) there still stands room for some explanation of the cryptic nature of many of Tweedy’s lyrics. For a song that begins with the lines:

      Some connection to the mechanistic noise and chaos that follows for a good 10 minutes after the tune falls away should be made. This is more than just a bunch of weird noises. It’s gone on (for better or worse) through three albums. Too many things have happened between now and then. It’s a whole new band, a whole new label, a whole new way of dispensing music. Where it all comes together and gets explained in full is beyond me and hopefully it won’t be for a while yet, but I’m on the edge of my seat waiting to get a clearer picture of just how important this band is to rock and roll, to music, to my life, to art, to themselves, to the people who are going to discover them 10 years after they’ve gone, 20, 50.

      This brings us to an aptly titled tune dealing with good things that have been and will go overlooked as long as man is making conscious decisions, “The Late Greats.” I’ve been told and discussed the undeniable fact that you can’t hear every great piece of music out there many a time, its part of what makes this stuff so addictive. This tune gives the notion a second of its time before turning up it’s nose at the mongoloids who run the business side of it by proclaiming, “The greatest singer in rock and roll / would have to be Romeo / his vocal chords are made of gold / he just looks a little too old.” Again, thoughtful and short this album makes as much of an impression with a quick little song as it is capable of doing with an opus type of tune where you can’t even explain everything you’re hearing.

      The inclusion of Jim O'Rourke (co-conspirator and moonlighter for Stereolab & Sonic Youth) as more than just Producer is quite exciting here, especially for fans of Loose Fur. The collaborative work between he and the band surely must the fill the creative void left behind as a result of Jay Bennett's disbandment. At no point has Wilco not been known to be comprised of great musicians and this lineup keeps the tradition going in full force. With Tweedy and bassist John Stirratt being the only surviving members from the A.M. days, a lot has changed but the fact remains that many people are missing the perfume with this music. From the earliest of days through A Ghost Is Born, this band has seen a tremendous amount of change. Someday when its too late to get a new Wilco album, this story will be told as it only can be when great musicians finally call it quits...in complete detail.

      And with that, A Ghost is Born is complete. Another triumphant album, this time without as much hooplah as there was surrounding the last. Before and after the release of this record, I’d heard from fans and critics alike that Wilco will never top an album like Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Maybe they can, maybe they can’t, but regardless, what they’ve just released for mass consumption holds just as much value and meaning as every one of their albums. Better? Who knows? It’s definitely just as good, its definitely a superb follow up.

      What's next you ask? The Wilco Book and its accompanying CD, of course.

-Joel Armato 07/14/04