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Ghostwriters: Second Skin

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Produced by internationally successful producer Warne Livesey, the second Ghostwriters album, "Second Skin", is already my pick for one of the top ten Australian albums of 1996.

Recorded at Trackdown studios in Sydney during the mid 1990's, and mixed at Bunk, Junk and Genius Studios in London, the second album from Ghostwriters is an absolute Australian gem gathering a wave of intense interest in the United Kingdom, USA, and Germany.

And just who are the Ghostwriters? The Ghostwriters are the brainchild of Midnight Oil drummer, songwriter and vocalist, Rob Hirst, together with soul mate and musical compadre, Hoodoo Guru bassist Rick Grossman. Hirst wrote most tracks on the album, whilst co-writing two with Grossman.

Other musicians performing on this gem of an album include Mark Moffatt, Jan Preston, Charlie McMahon, Peter West, Dominic Turner and Chris Abrahams.

First single from the album is the title track, "Second Skin".

A four piece live working version of the band have been performing around Sydney, with the possibilities of some showcases in Europe, where interest is increasing.

I really think the new Ghostwriters album will be a pivotal Australian release for an entire genre and generation of musicians and audience alike.

Ghostwriters - All Is Well With The World

(All following lyric extracts reprinted with the kind permission of the author)

As the alternative loses its meaning to the online, log on ideologies of the nineties, and the hypermarketed generation X is pushed aside by the microserfs of the global street bazaar, we see a merging of everything that is everything, a soundtrack of everywhere we go, of everything we are, of everything we do.

"You come crawling to my feet
With your dreams and illusions
Like a murder unresolved
You don't give me no solutions
."

We have a new backdrop that is a prism of the culture munching microwave of global ideas, where alternative has become mainstream youth bait. So quickly the search for highs, so quickly the accessibility of anything that sounds, that bytes, that looks, that is. Where smack is an accessory, religion a supermarket item, where youth is a Wall Street floating company.

"Yes, I am still an innocent
I'm hardly breathing.
I'm not breathing.
Oh, we will rise again
."

The millennium is near. There is no generation gap, no global gap, but the information gap. A culture that is accelerating beyond all that came before.

Yet something is missing, something real. The heart and soul of the party lost its way, we are threatened, we are disturbed, is there escape, will there be hope, is there religion?

"Come quickly dear Lord,
For my blood runs cold.
Come quickly my Lord,
'Fore my heart is sold
."

Erupting from the accelerating cyber culture and the militant mish mash of all that is art and commerce intertwined and combined, comes a musical force so diverse in its appeal and in its gathering of soul mates that it presents to us an eclectic musical score and lyrical underscore. Wispy on the edges, tuff stuff at the cumulative core, ladies and gentlemen, I give you Ghostwriters.

"Is Sergeant Pepper's still number one?
Do bands still play 'The House of the Rising Sun?
"

Like a moving wisp of cloud, this amalgamation of one score and more musicians has carved its own network into the mainstream brainstorm, giving you one last chance to dance, think, eat to the beat, and prepare for what is yet to come.

"As if the skies had opened
As if the Gods had spoken.
"

Ghostwriters have reached that stage in creative development that demands and commands your attention with their tapestry of diverse musical flavours, their lyrics so poignant in their gathering, so unique in their delivery and sound.

"Come down, forget your solemn vows
Delusions of immortal powers
Come down.
Come down.
"

Here is an album that spans the musical frontiers. A pure album from the soul, an album that is undefinable. You will not be able to stick this in a pigeonhole.

Bass patterns that spread eagle themselves with movements that sometimes defy the rule book, other times fitting snugly with the kick of the percussive rhythm section. Staccato precise brass riffs that are arranged so as to allow slide guitars to evoke beautiful melodic rhythms as they meander. Wildly.

Middle eight musical bridges a la Beatles in their mystical sitar days, meandering into Irish jig fades, arising again into that Duane Eddy, deep guitar country and western panache that rang with fire in days gone by.

There is a mystery in this music. A vocal sound that is unique, treating the voice as a true instrument, with quavers, deep gruffness, high falsetto, gymnastic in its sound, in a production field of its own.

Strings, congas, shakers, french horns, mandolins, cellos, hammond organs, oboe, mellotron, the diversity of the instruments as far reaching and organic as the music itself.

Ghostwriters is a strange amalgam of the juxtaposition of experience and the destination called success, placed very firmly alongside naivete and the journey towards the destination.

The intent is dark.
The effect a threat.
This is music that will disturb as it rocks.
Let you escape as it swirls and spirals.
Give you thoughts of revenge.
Of hate.
Of hope.
Of love.
A religious affair.

"I lay icebound in your harbour.
You came for me with breakers.
I was liberated.
I'll be educated."

Well, all is well with the world

From Lovegrove's Backtrack, by Vincent Lovegrove

(Note: this article has not been approved for reproduction.)