Jeff Tweedy recently tied the knot and sired a child.

And his bandmates in Wilco couldn't be happier -- but for reasons one might not expect.

"At least now he has something else to think about other than music. That's good for the band's sanity," admits multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennett.

How's that?

"Well, Jeff can work himself in and out of moods," he says of the band's singer, guitarist and primary songwriter.

"He'll spend a lot of time thinking about music ... about Wilco and about what the next record should be, which I don't think is necessarily healthy."

Nevertheless, Tweedy's passion (obsession?) for music might explain how Wilco created a modern-day rock masterpiece with Being There, only the group's second album. Released late last year, it's a towering achievement that contains same stylistic sprawl and charmingly sloppy feel as the Rolling Stones' Exile on Main Street, but also incorporates the beer-soaked rambunctiousness of The Replacements and the country-rock introspection of Tweedy's former band Uncle Tupelo.

But Bennett insists Wilco -- which plays tonight at the Republik -- had no grand plans before heading into the two-week recording sessions for Being There.

"We'd like to think we make records the way people used to make records," Bennett says. "All of the experimenting is certainly spontaneous.... We just went in and started recording and didn't stop until we had 30 songs -- 19 or 20 of which were pretty complete. We didn't have any producer, so we started going and having a lot of fun.

"There wasn't a master plan, which I know shatters some theories about the record."

In the end, Wilco decided to release Being There as a double CD, with each disc containing about 40 minutes of music, even though the 19 songs could have fit on a single disc. (Wilco also took a cut in royalties to assure Being There would cost the consumer no more than a single CD.) The band, Bennett says, wanted the record to re-create the feel of a vinyl-era double album.

"That's because, on CDs, you usually put all your poppiest stuff at the top and then the record kind of fizzles," he says.

"I really get a sense of people doing that. You won't hear people putting a great song as track 11. A good friend of mine is in a band called Menthol and I realized I've never listened to the last 15 minutes of their CD. You just tune out."

But the public is slowly tuning into Being There, partially because of its minor hit single Outtasite (Outta Mind) and partially because the record was universally praised by critics, who often compared it to Exile on Main Street and The Clash's London Calling, both classic double albums of the pre-CD era.

"Funny, I thought there would be a little more backlash," Bennett admits.

"I thought 30 percent of the reviews would say: It would make a great single record. And I think you could make that point. If you're a CD listener and you program the CD with just the songs you like, you probably don't need some of the quieter, transitional songs that only make sense in the context of an album.

"Those are the same people who don't understand the whole idea of making (an album) a listening experience rather than just a collection of 19 songs.... I like to think we made an album."