In the time of post-postness, when everything that was redone by the last generation is up for another recycling, and no one wants to spend any more money on music, there comes another reason to wake up again. Just as many would have predicted, especially in this city, where reinventions can only go on for so long before some young upstarts come along and throw down.
Today, those upstarts are called, collectively, Glass Ghost , and, individually, Mike Johnson, David Sheinkopf, and Eliot Krimsky. They are an original set-up for a band, with vocals, keyboards, and drums, leaving plenty of empty spaces to fill in with minimalist kinds of daydreams, which is fitting for a band that seems to be legitimately inventing something, and maybe for the first time.
There are still so many good reasons to have a look at New York from the ground level, checking in to a cool hotel and seeing what the city feels like today. It never gets old, because even when it’s apparent that it’s all been done, there’s something else to remind us that it certainly hasn’t.
There are, perhaps, plenty of influences that would come to mind here, but with their Pulse and Lovely Ice and Numbness album, released last November, the resemblances fade away into reverie as the music starts to play subtle tricks on the consciousness.
It feels like listening to your own foggy memories when it’s three o clock in the morning and you’re not sure if you’ve been sleeping or coming back from a trip you don’t remember. The vocals are so haunting and right, and the music so perfectly sparse, that there is room for familiar spirits to come in through the vents in these unfamiliar riffs, making their way to the edge of the coffee table, where they wait for something interesting to happen. It is interesting spaces to explore, and they are, in all of their strangeness, utterly familiar, and there’s a sense that these young artists have somehow managed to musically reproduce the uncanny.
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