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Ghostmane - Anti-Icon

 

If black metal had, in an alternate reality, been invented in a Memphis trap house instead of an icy Nordic forest, Ghostmane would be Quorthon. 

In a world that made sense and had taste, Marilyn Manson and nu-metal would never have existed, being subsumed entirely into the roiling chaos that is Ghostmane's mythology. 

This album, like all of his work, is an acquired, uncompromising taste. Openly antagonistic to success, stardom, and genre, this is Three 6 Mafia meets NIN at the bottom of a blender.

and then on the closer "Falling Down" you get a whole new thing. A stripped down voice-and-guitar echo of hurt and loneliness.


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