It takes a few listens for Shane Ghostkeeper's album Songs for My People to sink into your bones. The reason? This is a whole lifetime of music distilled to a collection of songs, the equivalent to a life story. Listen to Songs, get to know each rhythm, and you also get to know the artist — that takes time. Sure, Ghostkeeper is charismatic, affable and a fine storyteller, but before you press play, he's also a stranger.
Soon enough you'll have a roadmap that'll let you navigate this new space and get to know Ghostkeeper's local haunts; a weird, wild journey into small prairie towns and sprawling family trees. This is a country album that'll talk your ear off if you stop and ask for directions. It's happy to play trickster, giddily duplicitous and ever-shifting between sounds and delivery with as much delight as a child exploring their cool aunt's crate of records for the first time. There are whole eras of country music woven through Songs for My People, whole generations of songwriters absorbed and adopted by one artist moving into the future. Opener "Into the Night" is a great reflection of the whole: a shimmering, eerie soundscape that twists and convalesces into the song's main rhythm before Ghostkeeper's voice comes in and you're carried out of a dark prairie night and into the bright spectacle of a dancehall.
The dancehall is where these songs live — a rural place that might double as a hockey arena or where the annual rummage sale happens. Everyone in town knows where it is because everything from weddings to auctions happens there, a physical location to match the music. Twangy, shuffling, bumping and strumming, Ghostkeeper never lets you forget that these songs are for plywood floors, gravel parking lots and back porches, a soundtrack to watching the sun set over a windbreak of elms. Part of that feel has to do with Ghostkeeper's vocals: disregarding the lyrics, the guy uses his full range and more throughout the album. Each song is an opportunity to fit the right sound to the moment or the emotion — gut-wrenching shouts to stammered whispers to vibrant crooning to humming and every other sound in between. It's less like singing and more like he's having a very animated conversation with the centre of your brain, exactly like the flurry of voices you're likely to hear between songs at a show.
"Hunger Strike," the album's second song, has received a lot of attention thanks to the love story recounted through the lyrics. A tragically romantic tale of Ghostkeeper's grandfather's decision to end his life via a hunger strike after his wife passed, it's an irresistible story made to be eulogized in song. However, despite the sombre subject matter, Ghostkeeper keeps the music light and quick. It's a toe-tapper, a reflection of the joy and satisfaction that his grandfather had in his decision to meet his true love again. It even speeds up toward the end, a frenzy befitting a kitchen party where all the food is being thrown out. Bizarre but celebratory, it's a great lead in to the rest of the album.
"I Know How" carries on the audacity of "Hunger Strike," intensely human and forgiving in its approach to learning about love — it's a joy and another example of Ghostkeeper doing their country homework. Which isn't to say that the songs are all twang, all the time. Ghostkeeper also explores other sounds throughout the album; "V Chill" is almost a psychedelic remix of the more traditional country elements, pushing the pedal steel toward whining tones that feel like a shimmering acid sun dawning with each measure. Brushed drum strokes lead the song's shuffling beat, akin to wandering down a beach and scuffing sand with each step: unhurried, relaxed, just very chill, maaan. The chorus also feels more surfer dude than cowpoke, and shows a foothold of '60s Beach Boys influence that's unusual, though certainly not unwelcome.
While there are no misses, some songs don't have as much presence. The back half of the album features "Why Do I Hide," which offers a bumping bass riff on the chorus and some clever wordplay, but it's sandwiched between softer offerings "Ghost" and finale "Just a Closer Walk with Thee." They're decent tracks, but fail to match the dynamic examples from the album's front half — Ghostkeeper is playing it too safe here.
Fans of Ghostkeeper will know that this isn't the first iteration of his musical vision — he's put out exploratory indie rock for more than a decade under his last name. However, Songs for My People puts the man front and centre with a backing band that meets his vision of playing songs in the tradition of the country and roots records he heard as a youth. Nostalgia is a factor here, but there's nothing fake about the music being played. This kind of country has nothing to do with pick-up trucks, daisy dukes and dance beats. Instead, think wide-open vistas, pedal-steel leads and hand-clapped rhythms that are all about sharing and honesty. If you ever wanted to have a friend in Shane Ghostkeeper, Songs for My People is a heartfelt handshake saying hello, followed by a beer on the back porch.
(Victory Pool)Soon enough you'll have a roadmap that'll let you navigate this new space and get to know Ghostkeeper's local haunts; a weird, wild journey into small prairie towns and sprawling family trees. This is a country album that'll talk your ear off if you stop and ask for directions. It's happy to play trickster, giddily duplicitous and ever-shifting between sounds and delivery with as much delight as a child exploring their cool aunt's crate of records for the first time. There are whole eras of country music woven through Songs for My People, whole generations of songwriters absorbed and adopted by one artist moving into the future. Opener "Into the Night" is a great reflection of the whole: a shimmering, eerie soundscape that twists and convalesces into the song's main rhythm before Ghostkeeper's voice comes in and you're carried out of a dark prairie night and into the bright spectacle of a dancehall.
The dancehall is where these songs live — a rural place that might double as a hockey arena or where the annual rummage sale happens. Everyone in town knows where it is because everything from weddings to auctions happens there, a physical location to match the music. Twangy, shuffling, bumping and strumming, Ghostkeeper never lets you forget that these songs are for plywood floors, gravel parking lots and back porches, a soundtrack to watching the sun set over a windbreak of elms. Part of that feel has to do with Ghostkeeper's vocals: disregarding the lyrics, the guy uses his full range and more throughout the album. Each song is an opportunity to fit the right sound to the moment or the emotion — gut-wrenching shouts to stammered whispers to vibrant crooning to humming and every other sound in between. It's less like singing and more like he's having a very animated conversation with the centre of your brain, exactly like the flurry of voices you're likely to hear between songs at a show.
"Hunger Strike," the album's second song, has received a lot of attention thanks to the love story recounted through the lyrics. A tragically romantic tale of Ghostkeeper's grandfather's decision to end his life via a hunger strike after his wife passed, it's an irresistible story made to be eulogized in song. However, despite the sombre subject matter, Ghostkeeper keeps the music light and quick. It's a toe-tapper, a reflection of the joy and satisfaction that his grandfather had in his decision to meet his true love again. It even speeds up toward the end, a frenzy befitting a kitchen party where all the food is being thrown out. Bizarre but celebratory, it's a great lead in to the rest of the album.
"I Know How" carries on the audacity of "Hunger Strike," intensely human and forgiving in its approach to learning about love — it's a joy and another example of Ghostkeeper doing their country homework. Which isn't to say that the songs are all twang, all the time. Ghostkeeper also explores other sounds throughout the album; "V Chill" is almost a psychedelic remix of the more traditional country elements, pushing the pedal steel toward whining tones that feel like a shimmering acid sun dawning with each measure. Brushed drum strokes lead the song's shuffling beat, akin to wandering down a beach and scuffing sand with each step: unhurried, relaxed, just very chill, maaan. The chorus also feels more surfer dude than cowpoke, and shows a foothold of '60s Beach Boys influence that's unusual, though certainly not unwelcome.
While there are no misses, some songs don't have as much presence. The back half of the album features "Why Do I Hide," which offers a bumping bass riff on the chorus and some clever wordplay, but it's sandwiched between softer offerings "Ghost" and finale "Just a Closer Walk with Thee." They're decent tracks, but fail to match the dynamic examples from the album's front half — Ghostkeeper is playing it too safe here.
Fans of Ghostkeeper will know that this isn't the first iteration of his musical vision — he's put out exploratory indie rock for more than a decade under his last name. However, Songs for My People puts the man front and centre with a backing band that meets his vision of playing songs in the tradition of the country and roots records he heard as a youth. Nostalgia is a factor here, but there's nothing fake about the music being played. This kind of country has nothing to do with pick-up trucks, daisy dukes and dance beats. Instead, think wide-open vistas, pedal-steel leads and hand-clapped rhythms that are all about sharing and honesty. If you ever wanted to have a friend in Shane Ghostkeeper, Songs for My People is a heartfelt handshake saying hello, followed by a beer on the back porch.
