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8 of 8 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Great--just put in four or five listens, March 14, 2005
A lot of listeners sound kind of puzzled by this album. Quite frankly, I think these people are lazy.
Its kind of incredible how much fuss is made about how this album is "out there". When I got this thing, I expected something like Amnesiac. Amnesiac this is not. Yes, initially, this album is difficult to wrap your mind around because each song is not constructed around two or three signature hooks. So you can't pay attention for ten seconds, absorb the hook, think "thats cool" and then go back to talking to your girlfriend on the phone. You have to actually pay attention for the duration of the song to get something out of it. However, once you've put in your time and listened to a song four or five times, you can appreciate this album effortlessly and these songs become really cathy and riveting--and fun. Now I can't stop listening. Its a blast.
The arrangements are much simpler than on YHF. Basically, drums, bass, guitar, piano, and some occassional help from a synthesizer. The vocals are mixed up front as they usually are in Wilco. There are a few spots where Tweedy belts, but he's usually soft spoken. If you liked YHF, you'll like this just as much--maybe more. Just put your time in. This is a really good, conventional rock album. The song structures are just a little bit more difficult to master.
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16 of 19 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
This will all be music history one day -- pay attention..., July 9, 2004
I'm not particularly interested in ranking AGIB among previous Wilco releases; let it suffice to say that this record stands on its own two feet, and though some listeners may hint that it wobbles, I have the sinking suspicion that it is meant to wobble. The beauty in this album is the struggle, the thin filament that borders whispers against the screams, experimentation next to tried-and-true progressions. Just listen to the first track, "At Least That's What You Said." The break after the lyrics end, the hint at the guitar solo that merely echoes where the song has gone (seemingly in predictable circles), the following discord that is so forcibly loud (as Tweedy's voice is so soft), and finally Tweedy's solo that just takes off. The song becomes airborne with his guitar and it produces that amazingly sick and sweet feeling in your chest and you just know part of your soul has escaped you and has been carried off.....ahhhh....
Or, perhaps, for further proof of intentional contrast, listen to "Hummingbird" and "Less Than You Think" together. On the former, Tweedy's voice sounds the most familiar, stark and rusty and full of rough road, and the melodic nature of the song meshed with lyrics of wistful and learned remembrance, quite typical of Tweedy productions, is as soothing and soft as the added touches of dulcimer and viola. I can understand the Beatles references to this track, especially because of the strings, the percussion and the harmony. But the brilliance of this `simple' track is, I think, as significant as it is small. Upon Tweedy's final utterance of the word "hummingbird," the vocalization cuts off and doesn't intonate the swing of the melody - instead this is accomplished through the viola and the upswing in the vocals is merely implied (this begins around 2:25, but check in at 2:10 to get the full phrase). This is not what Lennon & McCartney would have done - the vocalization would have echoed the instrumentation at such a critical melodic point. "Less Than You Think" has already been cited as drone and white noise experimentation, etc. This track finds what other reviewers have heeded as a new voice for Tweedy, quite literally. It is more relaxed, more subdued and the song does sort of float in and out of its listener, and it reminds me a bit of Sonic Youth's "Providence" sans the CB conversation. The contrast between these tracks is what makes this album. It's honest. And as much as I loved YHF, it was a shade glossy, as if it was done to say, "Hey, here's our more studio-dependent album. AGIB reminds us of textures, of Tweedy screaming "nothing" so many times in concert while performing "Misunderstood," it's nearly impossible to understand why it doesn't bore you. If you're searching for a neat package, A Ghost Is Born is clearly not the way to go; however, neither is this band. Wilco is about rough-around-the-edges, dirty, smoky, painful and joyous rock and roll. Musical irony and paradigms may be not be everyone's forte, but Jeff Tweedy is offering us the best we've seen since Bowie, and, some may argue, the last Flaming Lips album.
For those who think Wilco is keeping American rock music alive, a must have. Not for the faint of heart, or those fearful of change.
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23 of 29 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
It holds up well, February 20, 2006
Coming after 2002's hyperbolically praised Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (which, in the interests of full disclosure, I like a great deal but didn't go nuts over), Wilco's first followup album was bound to generate some controversy, and A Ghost is Born certainly hasn't disappointed in that regard. That said, I'm sort of puzzled by the negative reaction to this album on this site by so many of Wilco's apparent down-from-day-one fans--judging by some of the things I've seen written, you'd think we were talking about John Mayer-style "sensitive male" filth or something. Even worse, many of the negative reviews go a long way toward proving that criticism isn't always critical, relying on simple-minded non-arguments like "it's boring," or "it doesn't sound like their old albums." Try harder next time, guys. Granted, this album is definitely far from perfect: I do sort of miss the aching, creaky croak that Tweedy used at a few points on YHF, as his vocals here generally take on a more hushed, reflective tone that sort of floats into and out of the mix. And yes, a couple of the songs here are too low-key to be of much consequence. But in the end, A Ghost is Born is another diverse and likably weird effort from some of modern music's more interesting experimentalists.
Overall, I found A Ghost is Born to be very much in the vein of YHF, namely excellent, intriguing meta-pop heavily tinged with rock and country influences, with the occasional curveball thrown in for good measure. Sure, it might not sound like all that much at first, but the effect of this album is gradual, revelling in nuance, detail, and unconventional song structures whose impact you probably won't catch the first time around.
Much as with Yankee Hotel Foxtrot or either Shins release, unpredictability is a major key to this album's appeal, as the songs here generally eschew quick payoffs and big choruses in favor of intricate arrangements and subtle dynamics. And while you might not think it in light of some of the aforementioned moaning on this site, Wilco finds a way to work guitars into virtually every song on this album. Granted, they're often used as something of a complimentary instrument, but they're in the forefront an awful lot as well. More to the point, the use of guitars here is frequently brilliantly done, especially early on: check out the screaming, feedback-laden solo that follows the subdued opening to At Least That's What You Said; the eloquently understated lead that culminates the steady, chorus-less buildup of Hell is Chrome; and the pounding riffs and swirling noises interspersed between the hypnotic drone of Spiders.
Later on, things get a little bit more pop-oriented, but not at all to the album's detriment. If anything, the more straightforwardly catchy stuff has only gotten better since YHF. That album's Jesus, Etc. marked Wilco as experts in the non-sappy use of strings, and this album's Hummingbird takes them even further in that direction, incorporating heavy doses of guitars, violins, and piano for a chamber-pop sound that never spills over into Belle and Sebastian-style wussiness. Hummingbird isn't the only bastion of quirky pop goodness here, either: witness also the twangy Handshake Drugs; the forceful, lilting Company in my Back; and the bouncy, uptempo Theologians. Tweedy & Co. do flex their rock muscles a bit in the album's later going as well, albeit very much on their own terms, as the thrashing I'm A Wheel and the tongue-in-cheek The Late Greats didn't find their way to any corporate-rock stations I know of.
So, yeah. I don't think all of this album is great, but every track here is listenable in its own way, and almost everything is at least good (and even the lesser tracks are somewhat interesting). So, in the all-time pantheon of albums, I would put this one below Joy Division's Closer but above Nickelback's Silver Side Up. In other words, it's neither the best album of all time nor the worst. Where exactly it does fit is up to you to decide.
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