Ultimately, it really doesn’t matter what GHOST do. Commercial success brings attention. Attention brings scrutiny. The internet is full of miserable fuckers with too much time on their hands. GHOST are not metal. GHOST are too poppy. GHOST fans are idiots. And on, and on, until we all perish in a grand conflagration of needlessly heightened disagreement.
Surely, by this point, people have decided whether they are on board with Tobias Forge‘s shapeshifting colossus. The Swedes’ steady shift from occult proto-metal to bright and shiny pop-rock was jarring for many, but then nothing irritates an underground metal fan more than the realization that something has purposefully outstripped their own meagre expectations. Forge was never going to be satisfied with cult status, and his songwriting has reflected that from Day One.
What has changed along the way is that GHOST have embraced the idea that performing for millions is a lot more subversive than performing for 500 people on the third stage at a summer festival. Whether anyone really buys the Satanic element of GHOST circa 2025, Forge is still the only mainstream rock star singing songs about Satan, and he should be applauded getting away with it. The twinkle in his eye undoubtedly helps, even if the overall atmosphere of GHOST‘s music now has more in common with slick ’80s AOR and gleefully overproduced radio-rock than it does with BLACK SABBATH.
Nonetheless, “Skeletá” will presumably receive the usual vitriol from certain quarters, and that is okay. GHOST have become so popular and potent over the last 15 years that they are now a self-contained phenomenon, liberated from superficial subgenre allegiances, and operating in a field that is entirely of their own creation. For those that have surrendered to Forge‘s vision, “Skeletá” will be a gift from the infernal gods: the next chapter in an evolving saga, wrapped in GHOST‘s mischievous mythology and expertly, extravagantly produced. For their critics, it will be further proof that the whole thing is a cynical sham. Quite why people that hate GHOST so much are still hurriedly listening to everything they release (and then commenting on it) is a mystery, but we are where we are.
Three years on from the streamlined eccentricity of “Impera”, GHOST‘s sixth album is an absolute blast. With songs that lean more heavily than ever into the whole macabre AOR deal, “Skeletá” is unapologetic in its radio-friendly aspirations and contains some of the biggest, most sugary melodic hooks in the band’s history. It also boasts several moments that suggest that Forge has been listening to VAN HALEN, a brace of ballads that will have fans weeping in the aisles, and a dizzying surfeit of JOURNEY-esque harmonies. As expected, everything sounds vast and dramatic, but still idiosyncratic enough to justify all that indulgence. As with previous albums, “Skeletá” is not designed to blow anyone’s head off with heaviness, but there are more than enough nods to old-school metal to confirm that Forge‘s twisted heart is in the right place. Meanwhile, these are some of the most sumptuously accessible songs GHOST have recorded yet.
A solitary choirboy sings wistfully at the start, as “Peacefield” gently unfolds, building in grandeur, dense with choral vocals — and then a VAN HALEN riff kicks in. GHOST are nothing if not unpredictable, and “Peacefield” may be their most audacious album opener yet. Pompous, intricate and willfully overblown, it apes the earworm simplicity of ’80s mainstream rock with deadpan accuracy, while still being ever-so-slightly unhinged. At one point it threatens to turn into JOURNEY‘s “Separate Ways”, but becomes its own, lethally catchy beast instead. Next, “Lachryma” spits and snarls, with grubby metal riffs that owe a debt to ’80s OZZY, and another gleaming, AOR chorus that never quite delivers the expected sucker-punch, amid billowing mists of pristine melodic rock and florid, classic rock soloing. “Satanized” follows: one of GHOST‘s most insidious anthems, it dials up the schlock horror and malevolent intent, while also delivering EUROPE-like pop-rock euphoria with a haughty flourish. The guitar solo (courtesy of OPETH‘s Fredrik Akesson) is worth the price of admission alone, and Tobias Forge has never sounded better.
The frontman excels himself again on “Guiding Lights”, a tearstained ballad that would surely have been a massive hit 40 years ago, and another song with a guitar solo that will have rock fans of a certain age sniveling into their satin tour jackets. Far grittier is “De Profundis Borealis”, which swaggers and struts with cock rock abandon, driving home more razor-sharp melodies with an unholy sense of urgency. Similarly, “Cenotaph” has the boogie bug, and sounds like some perverse blend of STATUS QUO and ELECTRIC LIGHT ORCHESTRA, with all the space prog trimmings, synth solos and ABBA harmonies that any dedicated fan could possibly require. It is brilliant, bewildering and completely insane. A slow, grinding tale of “love rockets, shot right in between your eyes!”, “Missilia Armori” is another perfectly pitched salute to the glory days of ’80s metal, with heavy RATT and DOKKEN vibes balanced out by the glittery-eyed harmonies and keyboard surges of pomp rock; “Marks Of The Evil One” takes a pleasing detour into gothic rock territory, Forge‘s ghoulish polemic attached to brooding, BILLY IDOL riffs, ghostly synth figures and a ruthlessly direct chorus; while the prog-curious “Umbra” is a pulsating synth rock sprint, heavy on the cowbell and hair metal guitar tones, but possessed by the spirit of overblown cosmic rock. Presumably all of this makes perfect sense to Forge, who performs his master of ceremonies role perfectly throughout, and reaches a vertigo-inducing peak of showbiz pizazz on the closing “Excelsis”. A languorous ballad with a bruised soul, it weaves hazy Mellotron and poignant piano into a churning, downbeat waltz, as Forge gets all misty-eyed and romantic, but all in the name of dastardly, dark forces.
We are, in truth, a long, long way from the creepy doom rock of “Opus Eponymous” at this point, but “Skeletá” is so aggressively entertaining and full of massive tunes that the cries of perpetual cynics are unlikely to make one single, shitty morsel of difference to its inevitable impact. Despite what you may have heard, GHOST still have the devil in them. They are just operating with a much bigger budget these days. No need to be jealous.
Source: blabbermouth.net
