By Steve Weinstein
By Bryan Bierman
By Lindsey Rhoades
By Chaz Kangas
By Ben Westhoff and Sarah Purkrabek
By Jena Ardell
By Jesse Sendejas Jr.
By Katherine Turman
The result is a better album than Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. A Ghost Is Born is first and foremost a sensibility album, a sonic demonstration of a worldview. Wilco's ideas are unremarkable, but are worked out with intelligence and striking conception. And as it happens, the new organic emphasis tables some of Wilco's lamer stylistic obsessions. Their disinclination now to involve themselves with English or European beats and atmospheres that they neither understand nor vibrantly misunderstand represents one advantage. Yet just as importantly, the new Wilco focus dulls the place of Brian Wilson's music in Wilco's.
This is excellent, because the rinky-dink Americana/alt-country apprehension of Wilsonthe delusional idea that classic Beach Boys had less to do with a genius instance of Hollywood glamour than some sort of fanciful homey suburban folkhas always been plainly wrong, and Wilco have been chief offenders in perpetrating the hoax. Loads better for them to proceed, as they do on A Ghost Is Born, as though they can't get enough Neil Young. Wilco understand his eccentrically expressive ways with vacuum-tube reality. They don't willfully imagine Young as Bing Crosby, as much of Americana/alt-country has viewed Wilson as Hank Williams with arpeggios. Moreover, on the several creeping ballads such as "At Least That's What You Said" and "Theologians" that Tweedy almost mumbles, Wilco also exhibit a decent grip on Sister Loversperiod Alex Chilton. Their version can't communicate the Big Star protagonist's pharmaceutical nightmares, yet it still sears.
In its deliberate, dug-in way, the whole album reveals a smart game plan. It's just that, so extremely unlike Radiohead, Wilco seem sheepish not only about new airport design but also about how such undertakings' sexy flash of ideas can impress and entertain. Yet obviously Wilco value that sort of pizzazz. The way the album begins with three pieces that artfully fuck around in an unbound rock-band manner"At Least," plus "Hell Is Chrome" and the magnificently obnoxious "Spiders (Kidsmoke)"refusing hard positions on melodies or textures or composition, recalls how Quentin Tarantino says he ramblingly wrote the first part of Jackie Brown to allow audiences to hang out with the characters before much happened narratively. When Tweedy sings "Handshake Drugs," a song Paul Simon might have shined up years ago into a hit single, he commemorates saxophones in the lyrics but doesn't score his track with them and, in general, successfully makes tuneful music act like smoke. From the adolescent guitar outbursts on "Spiders (Kidsmoke)" to the endless, wobbly note Tweedy sustains near the end of the album, A Ghost Is Born is full of tricksvery subtle, very ghostly, very buried tricks. It's one reason why Wilco's album will become, among other things, prime music to fill out serious college applications to.