Wilco
http://www.wilcoworld.net
styles: alternative rock, folk-rock, experimental, avant-garde
others: Jim O'Rourke, Sonic Youth, My Morning Jacket, Uncle Tupelo
 A
Ghost is Born
Nonesuch, 2004
rating: 5/5
reviewer: leah
It's nearly impossible to contain Wilco in one genre; from A.M. to A
Ghost is Born, the band has effortlessly combined and crossed musical
styles, shrugging off any labels we've attempted to attach to them. It's been
almost two years since Yankee Hotel Foxtrot wowed critics and fans with
its delicately-textured beauty. Many have since speculated whether Tweedy and
his band could create a record to rival it. How could the band members possibly
outdo themselves in light of such accolades? The answer for the band was to move
in a completely different direction.
A Ghost is Born would at first seem to be a confusing answer for fans. It
opens with "At Least That's What You Said," a highly personal, moody piano
ballad that transitions into full band with abrasive guitars and rapid-fire drum
segments. "Hell is Chrome" then opens up as lively piano with quiet drums that
would feel appropriate on a Billy Joel record. After easily settling into the
space this track offers, the 10-minute kraut-rock version of "Spiders" that
follows is subversive with its hypnotic beats and skronky guitars. And so the
disparateness continues throughout the record, preventing unity and upsetting
our comfort as listeners. It is very significant though, that the literal
centerpiece of this album, "Handshake Drugs," makes sense of it all with the
simple question: "Exactly what do you want me to be?" Both the music and
the lyrics on this album imply the central theme of identity. The effect is that
listeners are just as confused as the album's persona -- we feel insecure, like
the narrator, to find out that the devil is not red, but chrome. The
protagonist's goal in "Hummingbird" is to be an echo, yet the schism between
what he wants to be and what he is hits in a whirlwind of heartbreaking
realization.
But it's not all heartbreaking. The raucous instrumental spaces of "At Least
That's What You Said" and "Spiders" provide ample time to adjust to changing
identities in a way that life doesn't, and obligatory rocker "I'm a Wheel" kicks
up the fun a few notches. "Company in my Back" and "Theologians" are easy
shufflers that lead to infectious head bobbing of frat-boy-at-Grateful-Dead-show
caliber. Capping off "Less Than You Think" is approximately nine minutes of
fuzzy, crescendo-ing white noise that's hard not to skip past. Tweedy predicted
that 99% of Wilco fans wouldn't appreciate this, and he's probably right.
Whether intentionally or not, ex-pal Jay Farrar showed us how to be interactive
with last year's Terroir Blues; skipping past all the "experimental"
tracks got annoying. At least on A Ghost is Born we're only skipping
once.
Unlike the first three Wilco albums and even more than Yankee Hotel Foxtrot,
A Ghost is Born requires careful listening. The musicianship is stronger
than ever -- aided by producer Jim O'Rourke on all but one track -- and no
creative talent is left untapped. However, the disparateness of all the songs
will likely seem strange to fans initially, only to be softly revealed in subtle
beauty through concentration in successive listens.
1. At Least That's What You Said
2. Hell Is Chrome
3. Spiders (Kidsmoke)
4. Muzzle of Bees
5. Hummingbird
6. Handshake Drugs
7. Wishful Thinking
8. Company in My Back
9. I'm a Wheel
10. Theologians
11. Less Than You Think
12. The Late Greats
 Yankee
Hotel Foxtrot
Nonesuch, 2002
rating: 5/5
reviewer: jean-pierre
For all of the brouhaha and praise being placed upon Yankee Hotel Foxtrot,
Wilco’s fourth proper album, I’m surprised to find my brand new copy un-played,
tucked away alphabetically in my CD collection as soon as I brought it home. I’m
sure I’m going to put it in the stereo sometime, but as for now, it looks
perfect in my CD case, nestled between Yo La Tengo and my other Wilco albums.
Since September, I’ve been preaching the Wilco gospel to just about anyone who
was willing to listen. This list includes my father's podiatrist (huge Bob Dylan
fan) to the professors at my business school (editor's note: me, too). I
get pretty feverish and zealous about Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and the
circumstances that halted its release. At such incidents, you might find me
standing on a chair proclaiming that groundbreaking music such as this album
must be subsidized by the major label music industry because it’s that good and
gives us some hope that music hasn’t all gone to shit.
I’m slowly realizing that not everyone feels as passionately as I do about
Wilco. Some prefer Jeff Tweedy’s earlier work in Uncle Tupelo, others feel that
the band simply rehashes the classic artists that we already loved like Neil
Young and The Byrds. Regardless of how they feel about the music, everyone
agrees that Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is fucking punk rock. I say this because
the band made an incredible album, handed it to their label and when they were
asked to do it over, they said no.
It’s taken two AOL subsidiaries and eight months, but it’s here and sounds
better than ever. It’s quite interesting to hear the tracks in the album order
as opposed to the mp3s I’ve had for months, but everything else is remarkably
the same. The jingle-jangle ragtime pop that filters in and out of the opening
“I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” still sounds as breathtakingly optimistic as
ever. The crackle that emanates throughout “Radio Cure” still gives me chills as
Tweedy proclaims: “There is something wrong with me”. Sax horns and the
most fucked up guitar solo you’ll ever hear from “I’m the Man Who Loves You”
still brings to mind the Big Star-esque moments from 1996’s modern classic
Being There.
Like the finest albums recorded, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot brings the highest
of highs and the lowest of lows. Where earlier Wilco albums highlighted
confidence in love, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and to a lesser extent, 1999’s
Summerteeth shows Jeff Tweedy’s fragility in the future, uncertainty in
relationships and endless possibilities of what is possible amongst people.
Unlike other artists where you try to relate your situation to the songs,
Wilco’s work just seems so natural, like a conversation with someone you grew up
with.
Indeed, the album looks like a prophecy in retrospect. Tracks like “Ashes of an
American Flag” and “Jesus, etc…” seem to hint at a world falling to pieces with
lines such as: “Tall buildings shake, voices ache singing sad, sad songs.”
But by the time the album comes to a close with the new-century ballad
“Reservations,” you feel optimistic about the future and confident that
everything will be a okay with a little love. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot just
sounds classic even though I can’t think of an album that sounds anything like
it. It’s what Neil Young fans hoped music might sound like in the future age.
It’s taken so much bullshit, but Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is finally our
record.
1. I Am Trying to Break Your Heart
2. Kamera
3. Radio Cure
4. War on War
5. Jesus, Ect.
6. Ashes of American Flags
7. Heavy Metal Drummer
8. I'm the Man Who Loves You
9. Pot Keattle Black
10. Poor Places
11. Reservations
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