Ghost : Prequelle – 2018 – 41:43 Mins
In Review
Prequelle is Ghost’s fourth and possibly best album. A huge step from the heavier sound of their previous album Meliora, Prequelle takes the band into a more stadium rock territory whilst also keeping the blood of the previous Ghost albums in its system. This creates an accessible sound for newcomers though still retaining that unique sound that older Ghost fans continue to love them for.
The album opens with the intro Ashes, an opening played off all spooky-like to set the tone for the album. As the album is loosely based around the Black Plague, we hear the ghostly voices of children singing the nursery rhyme Ring a Ring o’ Roses, although with an added second verse about ashes being on things. It sets the mood nicely, giving that feel of the intro to an old Halloween film from your childhood, or even the opening of a Twilight Zone episode – it tells you the story ahead is spooks and horror, but hey, it’s also going to be a lot of fun too. Cue a few seconds of instrumental and we’re off.
The next track is Rats, the album’s first single and one of its most prominent tracks. Most of the tracks on Prequelle can only vaguely be connected back to the underlying theme of the Black Plague, but Rats flaunts it and revels in it. The fact the track is named Rats alone should be a pretty big indicator of what it’s all about. It also gives you a sweet taste of the content you can expect of the rest of the album too; head-banging guitar riffs, delightful prog rock-esque keyboarding, and quick to learn, catchy lyrics. As well as the obvious plague references, the lyrics could also be picked taken as a dig at organised religion and its history of acquiring followers through destructive means. You could also even go as far as to say it references government surveillance and attempts to create a Big Brother state, but it’s also definitely about plague rats. Regardless of themes however it is a solid opening track, which has definitely been written with the image of millions of fans in a packed out venue chanting along in mind.
Following on from Rats is Faith, probably the heaviest song on the album. It’s a very satanic sounding song, with lyrics obviously in reference to Satan and Satan worshipping (Satan and Satan accessories?). There’s no real connection to the Black Plague to be found here, the song does reference the Luddites, however they were around in the 1800s whereas the plague struck in the 1300s.[1] Faith is a very guitar driven song, unlike with Rats keyboard doesn’t get much of a look in, as here it’s wailing guitars that rule the roost. Following a demonic switch up of the chorus for its final play, Faith ends on a choir and organ driven ditty – it won’t mean much just yet, but that final tune will crop up again in the final track. This calming of the water also allows the album to transition nicely from the heavy finish of Faith into the softer beginnings of See the Light.
See the Light taps into that old Ghost sound, which though not as heavily satanic as its predecessor has a very occultist vibe, most notably in the chorus. The lyrics still follow in line with the “I am Satan worship me” theme set by Ghost, however they also possibly act as a diss track by frontman Tobias Forge to his former bandmates[2]; an impressive feat if true, as it may possibly be the first diss track to also act as a love letter to Satan. Keyboards get a bit more attention here, though their return pales in comparison to the following track, Miasma.
Miasma is a 5 minute instrumental which nicely breaks up the album, and cements just how fun Prequelle is supposed to be underneath all its dark and broodiness. Starting slow with a very prog rock inspired opening, Miasma soon begins to build momentum, holds speed momentarily, then finally climaxes with a welcome inclusion of someone killing it on a saxophone. In interviews Tobias has said “I am a big fan of the sax as an ingredient”, and I’d have to say so am I, as I imagine many others will be if not already after hearing Miasma.
After this we have another of the album’s standout tracks, Dance Macarbe, Prequelle’s second single. Tobias has actually discussed the meaning behind the lyrics to this song, stating that during the plague pubs and brothels were full as people just partied like there was no tomorrow, because chances are there really wouldn’t be for some. This is certainly backed up in references to “the last bow” and the words “something within yours eyes / said it could be the last time / ‘fore it’s over”. Much like Rats, Dance Macarbe feels as though it was written with the intention to get fists pumping in the air and heads banging to catchy choruses that can echo throughout a stadium. The band seemingly further pushed for their plans for this to be a track to get fans around the world pumped, by uploading a music video featuring various musicians and wrestlers singing and playing along to it. It’s possibly one of my favourite tracks off the album, and I can imagine it is the same for most people.
Things slow down for Pro Memoria, which dulls the buzz set by Miasma and Macarbe to take us on a much slower ride. I don’t love Memoria, but I don’t hate it either, it’s very in between and because of this I find it the weakest track Prequelle has to offer. It feels very theatrical, giving it possibly the strongest link to the old Ghost sound; it’s a sound from back when the music complimented the stage presence, which was a massive selling point of the band before they took off. This by no means makes it a bad track, nor does it make it unenjoyable, it’s just that it doesn’t quite stand up to its neighbouring tracks. The lyrics are definitely in reference to Memento Mori, the Latin practice of, literally, to remember death. The idea is to remember you are mortal and that one day you will be dead despite anything you do before, which the chorus covers almost word for word. The walk behind/ride with me lines possibly build on that by referencing how Roman generals practiced the Memento Mori theory by having slaves whispering the phrase to them as they returned home from successful war campaigns, to stop them ever getting too big headed over their triumphs. Assuming this definitely is the meaning it’s a very unique story to tell, but sadly it just didn’t stand a chance when slotted between Macarbe and the next track, Witch Image.
Witch Image is a solid track that certainly grows on you, and is a swift return to the fist pumping vibe that makes Prequelle so enjoyable. It could take you a few listens, or it could just be me, but eventually you will warm to it. The lyrics seem to take the form of Death’s message to the listener, or perhaps to an unknown recipient living through the Plague. References to rotting flesh, graves, and other such tick boxes for references to death are strong throughout the song – all of which seem to point to the knowledge that Death is coming for someone very soon and there’s nothing they can do to stop it. This seems a fitting follow up to Memoria, in that at first we’re told the theory of Memento Mori, and now we’re witnessing it first hand.
After Witch Image is over we have another, slower instrumental called Helvetesfonster. The tune features a little bit of the chorus to Memoria, and just a dash of what we heard back at the end of Faith. Once these callbacks have played out however, Helvetesfonster takes us in a new direction with its own unique sound. I say unique, it has a bit of a Kansas sound to it and a fairly strong resemblance to Live and Let Die, but can’t deny that’s a unique mix of sounds. The pace slows down once more for a solemn final act which goes a little medieval, again going back to that whole Black Plague thing we’re doing here. Like Memoria it isn’t a track I find myself wishing to revisit by itself, however it does act as a very nice touch to the overall story the album appears to bring to an end now. We end on church bells and lead into the final track, Life Eternal.
This track is pure power ballad, through and through. The vocal driven opening and haunting piano were surely supposed to usher all concert attendees to put their hands/lighters/electronic devices in the air swaying in union, as though recreating the scenes of Axel Rose at his piano in front of flame waving fans in the November Rain video. It certainly succeeds in creating this aura, and it works as a very downer end to the story it seems to have laid before us. Following songs of the inevitability of death during the Black Plague and a quick recap as time passes by to one final melancholy scene. The lyrics seem to indicate two lovers are soon to be separated by death, and they’ve chosen to share one final moment together before the inevitable, questioning whether their love can live on beyond the physical realm. It’s hard hitting stuff, and very much a downer of an album ending, but we were promised horror with our fun, so I suppose we knew it had to end this way.
Folk that bought a copy of the album with bonus tracks are then treated to a cover of It’s a Sin by the Pet Shop Boys, and Avalanche by Leonard Cohen. Sin is originally about the pain of a person’s reluctance and shame to be a homosexual, citing what the church feels about homosexuality to justify his shame. Naturally because this song can be taken as a potshot at the church for its treatment of homosexuals, it seems a fitting track to join Ghost’s covers. Avalanche is a much darker song, and is much more critical of Christianity, specifically of its worshippers and their behaviours. There are many suggested meanings to this song, but the overall agreement is they are of God communicating with mankind – and frankly he doesn’t have much nice to say. Lyrics from the big man himself stating we are in no way special is pretty brutal, and Cardinal Copia’s delivery only makes them cut deeper.
Overall, Prequelle is not only the best output so far from Ghost, it is also a stellar metal album. With an interesting story running through it, a sound that has it act as a love letter to the best metal has offered us over the years, and songs that make you yearn for involvement in their delivery, it really is something special. Sure they’re not all zingers, but you can’t label a single track terrible.
[1] Luddites were a group who rejected modern technologies designed to do tasks for them such as textile work, so they destroyed them in fears that they would eventually replace them and put them out of a job. You could draw a parallel interpretation that this also references modern day fears of robots replacing us in the work place, a high possibility given a lot of these songs seem to refer to the past and present.
[2] In 2017 ex-Ghost members sued Tobias for claims of unpaid royalties. The court case resulted in the names of band members and Tobias himself being unmasked in the media, meaning the mysterious shroud over the nameless band had been dropped, killing a bit of the magic.
Comments