Posted: June 18, 2020 | 4 min read.
Here we sit, a full decade since the debut of Eyelid Movies with a new Phantogram release. Despite the name, this album hardly stands on Ceremony, blending lots of new sounds & ideas with the trademark dream pop/rock sound that’s become their brand. Loss, confusion, despair, and glimmers of hope are all prominent themes in this dark, thick, and groovy outing. This subject matter should come as no surprise to fans. Where Three was a crushing listen in response to the heartbreaking loss of Sarah Barthel’s sister, Rebecca, Ceremony is similarly dark, but instead covers the aftermath. In this album, the duo describe “moving on” in the wake of a traumatic, life altering experience. Even the album art reflects the fractured sense of identity through its lenticular, unassuming portraits of Sarah & Josh.
Make no mistake though – this album masks the darkness with some supremely energetic tracks. For example, the opening track Dear God features a pounding piano cut that’ll have you prepping your stank face in excitement right from the start. From there, the album shifts from an outward, urgent sense of escapism to inward feelings of helplessness on the single In A Spiral. Midway through you’ll catch a staccato double bass triplet, which, paired with the hip-hop-lawn-sprinkler chk-chk-chk-chk-chkchkchchkchk of the hi-hat, hits just right.
From there, pace slows into a drifting, synth-powered ballad that could be borrowed right from The Cure. Infectious as it is deeply mournful, this is the first track where the instrumentals match the intensity of the subject matter:
Fall into happiness
Wish you could be here
No more loneliness
You’d make it perfect
Sorrowful, heavy, moving, and among it all, we see the first surfacing of hope:
Everything is changing
Sorry I’ve been missing
Down the road I’ve left behind
Everything is clearer now
I’ve been getting better
Did I mention this was co-authored by Billy Corgan?
If the previous track built you up, Pedestal only serves to bring you crashing back to Earth (which, in and of itself, is a repeating theme throughout the album). The singular lyric “You can make a hospital lovely” is this album exemplified as mono no aware. The ephemeral nature of life is the source of its beauty, and, bittersweet as it is, should be cherished because of it.
Love Me Now features a bold brass section that harmonizes with the simple guitar riffs & atmospheric string bends. Everyone here is settling into a pocket, hungover from the emotional release of the prior track. Let Me Down revitalizes a bit, boasting a heavy bass and a sparkling synth section that desperately wants to chase the runaway hihat. Spin this track on a late night drive. Trust me.
News Today abruptly changes the story, serving as a brief interlude before the back half of the album. This short but ghostlike track brings back Phantogram’s experimental roots, feeling more closely related to tracks like 10,000 Claps from Eyelid Movies than anything else on the record.
Which brings us to the funkiest track on the whole album: Mister Impossible. Driven by a THICK boom-bap type beat (WHAT!), this track is clearly our duo cutting loose and having their fun. The wicked lyrical content matched with the understated, droning, buzzing guitars and orchestral synths make this a track that could easily land itself in a John Wick or Bond-style action flick. Purely radical.
However, feeling slightly out of place, Glowing follows with more subdued melancholy. While this is a perfectly servicable track on its own, it does feel odd sandwiched between the glowing Mister Impossible and Gaunt Kids. This would feel more at home in the Love Me Now / Let Me Down mix. Perhaps repeat listening will reveal a purpose that is not yet obvious.
Speaking of Gaunt Kids, the penultimate track feels like a Big Grams B-Side! The whole track plays like nonsensical, spoken word free-association that could easily be lifted from a Das Racist riff somewhere between Heems’ final verse on Nutmeg, and the “we’ll figure it out when we get there” instrumental styling of Don Dada from the Shut Up, Dude mixtape. Somehow, elements also seem like they could exist on an Arcade Fire track, particularly Sarah’s vocalizations of the Take it, cut it, Make it, print it, Sacred wallet verse. Reading this description probably paints an irreconcilable picture, but it totally works.
Finally, this revelry brings us to the title track Ceremony. While this song doesn’t really introduce anything new, it encapsulates all the major thematic elements of the album and shows the maturity of Phantogram’s craft. Airy instrumentals are backed by Sarah’s signature soft but breathy vocal stylings. The back half of the song leads into increasingly noise rock instrumentals that leave a tangible emptiness when they end at the 5:37 mark. Just as strongly as they appeared in Dear God, Phantogram leaves you with nothing but stillness and your own thoughts once Ceremony bows its head It is both chilling and so lovely.
This is a must listen.