Japanese psych/folk band Ghost captured my interest in the early 2010s. I had been a fan of another psychedelic Japanese band by the name of Boris, that specialized in drone and experimental psych/metal. I learned that guitarist Michio Kurihara, who frequently played with Boris on their live tours, was also a member of a band called Ghost. I was immediately drawn to Ghost's purity of vision and 60s spiritual orientation. Often, they were fully acoustic, coming across like a reincarnated Incredible String Band, and at other times went for more trippy electric vibes, reminding me of Gong.
If the Gong analogy holds, Masaki Batoh (acoustic guitar, vocals) is the Daevid Allen of Ghost - leading the band on a psychic trajectory that is fully his own creation, and which the band implicitly trust as they lend their instrumental talents in service of his vision. The band reportedly led a nomadic existence, busking in Tokyo train stations and living together in ancient ruins (their 1994 album Temple Stone, a favorite, was recorded in an ancient temple and sounds like it).
Ghost's 1999 album Tune In, Turn On, Free Tibet was released as a companion piece to another album released that same year, Snuffbox Immanence. It was also their final album before a 5-year hiatus, and it serves as a culmination of the first phase of Ghost's existence. It begins with a brief spoken word track, "We Insist", by a voice so distorted I cannot understand it, but I assume it concerns the Tibetan freedom movement, which had gained momentum in the western world and naturally was a hot issue in the east as well.
The next six tracks are all short acoustic-based folk songs enhanced with atmospheric production, wooden flutes, Kurihara's psychedelic electric guitars, and hand percussion. Tracks like these had populated Ghost's earlier albums, but rarely had they been so spare and personal. On previous albums such tracks often had the feel of communal celebrations or prayers; on Tune In, they sport the same melancholic beauty one might find on a Nick Drake album. The band acknowledges one of its influences by covering "Images of April", written by the 1960s folk/prog outfit Pearls Before Swine.
The title track, lasting half of the album at 33 minutes, abandons lyricism in favor of exploratory improvisation. Beginning acoustically with free-flowing guitar strums, vibes, cello, and quietly echoed electric guitar, its serenity is easy to get sucked into. It continues in this manner for at least 20 minutes (turning more rhythmic for a while), before turning weirder and darker. The psychedelic focus of the final 13 minutes or so resembles the extreme experiments of early Tangerine Dream or Cluster. It's a nightmarish turn that gets downright creepy by the end. Electronic effects and guitar feedback clash in a dark drone that is about as far into the avant-garde as Ghost ever got. Muffled tribal drums eventually enter, along with the distorted voice heard in the first track.
Overall, Tune In, Turn On, Free Tibet is a very affecting album that juxtaposes the serene beauty of the majority of the album with the unsettling finale.
As a postscript, the reason I listed this band as Ghost (Japan) is because there is a more recently formed Swedish theatrical metal band of the same name that has become popular. Although I have not listened to the Swedish band, I am nonetheless slightly annoyed with them because whenever I mention the Japanese band, I have to qualify it as "not the Swedish band, the Japanese band" who were there first. Not their fault, I guess. Now that the Japanese Ghost is officially broken up, I wish the Swedish Ghost good luck.
Dan:
I relate to the 1960s vibe on Tune In, Turn On, Free Tibet, having experienced the music of the late 60s firsthand. The phrase "tune in and turn on" originated at that time among folk musicians who were usually the first to protest human rights violations and express anti-war sentiments. Amidst the Vietnam war, Richard Nixon's presidency, and the Civil Rights movement in the US, there were plenty of issues to protest. Japan, of course, had much to grieve after World War II, and Vietnam was a lot closer to Asian people's lives. Coupled with the rise of Communist China, and its controversial Tibetan policies, it's understandable why American protest music was influential in Japanese prog circa 1999.
The first seven songs on Tune In, do a nice job of translating 60s folk-rock and psychedelia into an Asian context. If anything, the translation is a little too literal and privileges the calmer, nonviolent aspect of protest. (Nothing close to The Electric Flag's "Another Country" is attempted by Ghost). Incidentally, the title "We Insist" is taken from jazz drummer Max Roach's album of the same name with the subtitle Freedom Now Suite, released in 1961.
Ghost's mild protest changes about one-third of the way into the long title track. A chugging beat presages a distorted vocal sung over an increasingly intense background of noise, which is suddenly interrupted by some free play amongst bells, drums and violin that morph into a charming melody. There's a bit of back-and-forth between freedom and discipline for the next few minutes, as shifting aural images are painted. The track then turns into the nightmarish avant-garde section that Steve writes about. Nothing here will frighten the horses, but it might provoke questions from family members worrying about your mental health. Fortunately, there's enough variety of sounds during the closing section to give the listener more to do than just survive the nightmare.
