#a ghost is born

[horacio-oliveira-74]

Wilco - Company In My Back @ Capitol Theatre 2/2/16

Under your bended knee

And I will always die

I will always die

I will always die

So you can remember me....

[thebowerypresents]

Wilco Kick Off the Weekend and a Three-Night Run at the Beacon Theatre on Friday

Wilco – Beacon Theatre – June 21, 2024

Like many a Wilco fan, I look back to 2004’s A Ghost Is Born with certain fondness, not least because it was an inflection-point epoch. Before touring the Ghost material — which is to say, before Wilco rounded out the band lineup we would come to know over the two decades since with guitar sorcerer Nels Cline and multi-instrumentalist wonder Pat Sansone — Wilco had only just begun to push at the artier, more experimental edges of their invigorating, countrified indie-rock, hinting at what might come next. 

After that, Jeff Tweedy and Co. were totally indulging those edges: Ghost inaugurated an era of Wilco songs and shows that could be tightly compact or sprawling and annihilating and psychedelic, and today usually are all of those things, where even the quietest and most delicate tunes have simmering noise-rock rage just beneath them and are better for it. Wilco can be so sweetly on. They can go so wildly off. It’s all good. And as the size of their playable oeuvre has doubled since — including a prolific run of new material since the pandemic — they’ve refined what they do even further. They wear their “great modern rock” bona fides well. 

Wilco shows have a way of feeling casually epic. At the Beacon on Friday — the first of three for the band, back in the broiling city — they started out confident and workmanlike and then, gradually, both relaxed the vibe and upped the intensity. Tweedy was his usual affable, lightly sardonic self, steering them through a well-blended run of classics from all eras (“Handshake Drugs,” “Passenger Side,” “I’m the Man Who Loves You”), more recent tunes and obscurities. 

There was some deference to Ghost material — among the standouts, the sensational, Beatles-like “Hummingbird” just never gets old, and the crowd felt it deeply — but there was at least as much from 2022’s Cruel Country and 2023’s Cousin, the pandemic Wilco albums whose songs yield some of their most interesting experiments yet. “Falling Apart (Right Now),” from the former, is an actual, chicken-pickin’ country song, but one that isn’t so much a throwback to Wilco’s early, pre-millennium alt-country days as it is what the band might sound like if they took this version of the band back to that aesthetic. And yet, “Bird Without a Tail/Base of My Skull,” from that same album, has very little country at all: a woozy, jangling build that on record ebbs into rustic psychedelia but here, live, opened up, became a sonic voyage, the band all in protracted instrumental jamming at once.

When they go for it, they really go for it. Long masters of setlist construction, Wilco built on a strong first hour and then cranked up things, using the last third of the show on a run through some of their richest material: “Heavy Metal Drummer,” “The Late Greats,” the deceptively delicate, right-in-the-feels “Jesus Etc.,” the much-beloved hymn “California Stars,” the shoegaze-hypnotic choogle of “Spiders (Kidsmoke)” at the close of a four-song encore. And every time you think you’ve previously heard the best of Cline laying waste to “Impossible Germany” — a pensive tune that in fact houses a seven-plus-minute, no-holds-barred guitar excursion — it ends up feeling like the first time, with Friday’s showstopper a wiry adventure of maybe-this-feels-like-Eddie Hazel-meets-David-Gilmour-but-no-it’s-actually-just-Nels-doing-Nels-and-holy-shit.

Wilco’s individual players get plenty of love: Tweedy, Cline, Sansone, the might-be-MVP Glenn Kotche on drums, the stalwart John Stirratt on bass, the never-not-on-point Mikael Jorgensen on keys. Less talked about, and ever more apparent as they age, is how well over 20 years they’ve jelled as an ensemble and move as one organism over songs for whom this many players and this much musicality might be too much in an arena, let alone a theater. That they’ve also kept all this from becoming mechanical — that every Wilco show still feels fresh and unforced — suggests there are many more Wilco epochs yet to come. —Chad Berndtson | @Cberndtson

(Wilco play the Beacon Theatre again tonight.)

Photos courtesy of Savannah Lauren | @savannahlaurenphoto

[poprocklyrics]

The air was crisp like sunny late winter days Springtime yawning high in the haze And I felt like I belonged

Hell is Chrome, Wilco

[punkysdilemma-blog]

Wilco - a ghost is born (2004): a record that in retrospect says so much about the moment it was made in: post millennial dread, political impotency and prescription barbiturate abuse.

The sound is something like classic rock radio being twisted and stretched into post-modern shapes. There’s a moment in ‘handshake drugs’ where you can here a whisper of Bowie’s Heroes before it starts stuttering and staggering into a noisy collapse, with singer Jeff Tweedy letting off squawking guitar riffs that chug and drift into walls of feedback, the piano and drums drop out to leave the echoes of this noise bouncing around your speakers.

Then there are the lyrics: impressionistic and dense but somehow Tweedy makes the chorus "move so slow, steady crushing hand, holy shit there's a company in my back" work. You can feel the drudgery and pain of that sentiment in his voice, in a song that seems to be an ode to a partners care when you're at a low. A near perfect album.

[nonesuchrecords]

Cracking open a copy of the upcoming nine-LP, four-CD deluxe edition of Wilco's A Ghost Is Born, due February 7.

[malachimulligan]

every wilco album title would work as an enby name

[a-disaster-piece]

Wilco // "Theologians," from A Ghost Is Born

Theologians, they don't know nothing, About my soul, about my soul.

I'm an ocean, an abyss in motion; Slow motion, slow...motion...

I'm going away; will you look for me? Where I'm going, you cannot come.

And no one's ever gonna take my life from me; I lay it down, a ghost is born, a ghost is born, a ghost is born...

[breesperez139]

Dc x Dp Prompt #6

“I’m a twin”, Damian said one night. He could feel the narrowed eyes of his family drilling holes on his back in disbelief. Not that he could blame them. Damian had never so much as implied being raised with a companion, much less a sibling.

“I had a brother”. Damian paused to recollect himself. He had not said his brother’s name out loud in over 8 years.

“His name was… Danyal”. Damian hated the way his voice wavered, but he could not help it. Danyal was everything to him, his other half. Their heart beat as one and when one heart stopped beating, the other one died with it. At least until his family put his heart on metaphorical life support without ever realizing.

“Where is he now?” His father asked, voice filled with knowing grief and a hint of betrayal. It had in fact been 6 years since Damian first showed up on his doorstep.

“Up there”. All eyes shifted towards the specific star he was pointing to. “Right before he died, he promised me he’d guide me from the stars. Unfortunately, the stars are not visible in Gotham, so my brother is unable to be of much help unless I leave the city.”

“Your brother is Polaris, the North Star?” Tim questioned warily, most likely in attempts to not offend him. Damian was aware of how stupid it sounded, but Danyal had promised, and his brother never broke his promises.

“Yes. Danyal is with the stars now, just as he always wanted”

[bluegiragi]

he keeps his promises.

early access + nsfw on patreon

[al4thea]

With hands stained deep in crimson’s thread, I cradle those I love in red.

[sleepy-grav3]

Amity Park hates the Justice League but loves Red Hood and sometimes other heroes

A/n: I got this random idea so here it is. Oh, and this is good reveal AU ok?

-------

Due to the Justice League mocking them and ignoring their villain problems that were also publicly interdimensional problems, everyone hates the JL. It got worst with the GIW coming in, who blatantly went against the meta-laws (which included aliens, demons and so much more that weren't human from the beginning). They started to think the Justice League supported them.

In the Infinite Realms, however, there's a revenant that many adored and others respected. He did not hold back against criminals. Criminals that would rape, kill, traffic, sell drugs, and more to people. He especially didn't like when they brought kids into this. He'd avenge people the way they should've been: by promising that their abuser/killer/whatever wouldn't be able to do it again. And in the place they lived in, the only way for that to be possible was by major injury, heavy social outcasting, and/or death. Most prefer the 3rd.

And after how long the Amitians dealt with the attacks which eventually came to a slow once or twice a week type thing, they started opening their minds to the idea of coexistence. Well, further than they had. So when people started to cross over and start making their small haunts in their side of the veil, the Amitian's began to become aware of the popular hero Red Hood. He was part of the undead community, which was trustworthy in everyone's books.

So Amity Park started making merch. Most of it was for Team Phantom, but there was plenty for Red Hood as well. There were other heroes on the side, like for Superboy 1 (who they renamed to Supernova due to their hatred for Superman for 2 reasons, the obvious and that he rejected a mirror-born), and Raven (the half demon).

And with this coexistence, Team Phantom had noticed the positive feedback about killing in the name of vengeance. So they went on the offensive, and after a good year of that, the GIW lost funding for producing no results and just taking up resources. The acts were still there, but nobody enacted them in Amity, and nobody actually knew or believed them outside of the haunted city.

Then the Justice League find out about the hero group there due to tracking merchandise after they started to sell outside of the city. Superman was the guy everyone liked, so he was sent over. He immediately got thrown out and was now questioning who the heck Supernova was and when he rejected him.

Flash? Outcast. Everyone ignored and walked away from him. they had the police, who never did anything or even had to anymore, kick him out.

Green Lanter? Oh the poor guy. He had his ring taken away and thrown out of the city somehow. It took hours to find it.

Wonder Woman, they had to be ok with her. Not at first, but once Phantom had a talk with her and people learned that they were cousins through Clockwork (Kronos) and Pandora, they were ok. ish. Tolerated was the best word and she got the info back to the league.

The batfamily took a trip there, dragging Red Hood along somehow. And right when Red Hood was noticed, a crowd began to form as everyone practically worshipped him. There were many victims he had avenged and an Ancient (Lady Gotham) came and gave him the gifts she couldn't without scaring the guy.

At one point, the poor guy even cried.

[lillibuds]

ghoubs

[bluerosefox]

Fenton Coded

Tim... Tim just stared.

He...

Huh.

He had once entertained the idea that he wasn't really a Drake, a very long time ago when he overheard his mom and dad arguing and some words were said in the heat of the moment, but to be honest Tim always thought the obvious culprit of anyone being his dad would most likely be Bruce (Bruce even admitted he had a small fling with his mother but that was two years before her marriage)

But before little Tim's curiosity could really take hold on the idea, he had saw on the news Robin performing a Grayson flip and the hint of Tim not being a Drake left his mind. Robin was Dick Grayson! And if he was Robin that had to mean Bruce Wayne was Batman!

Then well... his stalking of the Bats started and the rest became history.

But now, as Tim was staring at his own DNA test, something he never bothered to do until that damned Demon brat wanted to make sure he was ONLY blood son of Bruce (and doing a DNA test something even Bruce never thought of doing due to well… how he was towards Tim during his first months as Robin)

He well…

He kinda needs to find out who this Daniel Jackson Fenton is.

(Tim finds out he isn’t a Drake, but also not a Wayne (because Damian wanted to make sure he was only blood son) but is instead a Fenton)

[emacrow]

Jazz always wanted a little brother.

Her best friend's mommy having a baby brother in her tummy, but right now they were at gotham, mom was meeting with some important people while she stay safe in the car with dad sleeping in the front passenger seat.

When she asked her mom and dad for a baby brother earlier that same week, mom had to explained that her tummy was broken after she had her because she was a very special miracle baby because they tried so hard to have her.

Jazz understood but at the same time, she wanted- no she need a baby brother, maybe one with dad's hair and mom's eyes, or maybe one with hair like hair and dad's eyes.

And she was determined, as she snuck out of the fentomobile car, sneaking inside beside the scary ninjas guards that were temporarily distracted.

She was very good at sneaking around thanks to mom training her to stay quiet and hide better then a ghost.

There was pools of ectoplasmic but much dirtier and less cleaner then the stuff mom and dad work with. Container and chambers full of them.

She saw doctor walking out of one room and snuck in before the the door close on her. There was another ectoplasmic container that had babies in them..

One sleeping upside down and the other upside up. The one of the bottom was sleeping but the older has his eyes open, revealing pretty blue eyes like dad's eyes.

She chewed on her bottom lip a bit and weigh her short limited choices as nodding.

She close her eyes, focusing as she quickly started to float a bit wobbly, sticking her small hands onto the glass ectoplasmic ball using her secret powers that she had learned without mom and dad noticing.

Her invisible hand grabbed the baby slowly, making it invisible as she pulled it out of the ectoplasmic ball.

The baby was very small and light then a feather while covered in wet ectoplasm goop.. the baby cough a bit, dripping ectoplasm out his mouth, squirming a bit as he was about to male a fuzz but quiet down as she held him close into her warm fuzzy jacket.

She snuck back out of the room and quickly out of the place all the way back into fentonmobile..

Covering the baby with her Einstein beat designed blanket, cleaning the baby up like she would with her baby dolls, and she open the empty toy baby bottle and open her mini almond milk jug, then pour the milk in and close it, after remembering to cut a little open hole on the tip of the hard plastic nibble part.

Scooting over to the baby, and carefully picking him up and helding him close onto her lap like she seen the mommy do on TV as she press the toy baby bottle again the baby's mouth.

It would be 1 hour later before mom came back looking excited then 2 hours later after they left gotham before a soft baby wail woke her dad from the backseat of the fenton car where jazz was.

Jazz was pink in the face as she was trying to hide the baby but she couldn't stop him from crying.

It would 20 minutes of jazz lying straight to her parents's faces on where she found the baby, and it would forever be her only best lie she ever told that convinced them to adopt the baby boy that was now named danny..

Meanwhile back at league of Assassin headquarters. The head scientist has noticed that the first unborn twin baby has been removed early then schedule, probably due to natural condition of death since the first one has a much weaker pulse compared to the second unborn baby which Talia had name Damian later.

The leading scientist check off the existence of the supposed first born who went without a name on the data base...

Unknownly to both parties, Jazz was very happy to have a little brother of her own now, even if his eyes flashes green a bit from time to time.

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."