Pitchfork

Despite a seasoned aversion to hippies, I purchased Ghost's gorgeous self-titled debut in 1993 at the Princeton Record Exchange, about three years after its release. Fresh out of an SST-dosed high school experience, the Tokyo band's crystalline chamber folk, swirling incantations, and tendency to play and squat in Buddhist temples, abandoned churches and caves not only signaled my entrance into a more expansive musicality, it linked them on an aesthetic and spiritual level with the apocalyptic folk of one of my favorites, Current 93. Besides the dream catching, the group's uncanny ability to turn new-age atmospherics into blistering psych transcendence linked them solidly with Magic Hour, another of my early obsessions.

And though I'm still patiently awaiting the collaboration with David Tibet (who, interestingly enough, is currently working on a project with psych pin-up boy Ben Chasny), I was floored in 1995 when Ghost and Magic Hour went on tour in the U.S. and Japan. To my ear, both groups benefited. On one side, the trip inspired the jingly acoustic-centered instrumentals, "SunsetOne" and "SunsetTwo", on Magic Hour's final opus, Secession '96. It also planted the seeds for Ghost's 2000's full-length collaboration with ex-Magic Hour rhythm section, Damon Krukowski and Naomi Yang on the best Damon & Naomi record in some time. For Ghost, Magic Hour's rock excess invaded their pristine habitat, leading to the mastery of a heavier, rock-monster strain of psychedelia on subsequent releases. And nowhere is the rock more intense than on Hypnotic Underworld.

Since Ghost's inception in Tokyo in 1986, the band has released consistently solid, ambitious records; but on their seventh full-length, the sextet transcends all of their prior rock outings (though the beautiful psych-folk Snuffbox Immanence still stands as the best of their quieter material). It's the first long player since 1999, and it combines the strongest aspects of its predecessors, resulting in an unbelievably beautiful mix of ethereal improvisation, blasted guitar (think Zeppelin), heady prog, Golden Earring swagger, Incredible String Band-styled naturalism, a gorgeous, slow-motion, circus-music cover of Syd Barrett's "Dominoes - Celebration for the Gray Days", and a melancholy take on Earth & Fire's "Hazy Paradise".

Toying with the usual end-of-album epic, Hypnotic Underworld unfolds assuredly with the 23-minute title track. Broken into four distinct movements, the first, "God Took a Picture of His Illness on This Ground", is a 13-minute improvisational piece recorded live in the studio. It's spare, discordant heterophony lined with intermittent percussion, electronic bursts, brushed or scraped strings, down-the-well percussion, and whinnying saxophone. The instruments Ghost brings to this record-- contrabass, cello, mellotron, lute, Celtic harp, recorder, hurdy gurdy, tabla, 12-string acoustic guitar, theremin, flute, bouzouki, etc.-- create strong, surprising musical landscapes. The second section, "Escaped and Lost Down in Medina", a seven-minute, multi-layered piano-and-horn-driven epic (check out the tambourine in the left track) evokes the dense and sprawling work on 1994's live record, Temple Stone, as well as some anonymous 60s jazz freakout or fellow Japanese improvisors, Trembling Strain. But it's the three-minute third section, "Aramaic Barbarous Dawn", that sets the tone for the remainder of the album. Opening with near-cricket chirps and fabulously catchy O.D. oscillations, it tears into heavy guitar riffs and a rock-anthem chorus of voices before multi-instrumental vocalist Masaki Botah takes control, rising from the other voices, and arcing as triumphantly as Queen. The opening suite is capped with "Leave the World!" a 22-second exclamation of death-metal drumming (cymbals, snare, hi-hat) and frantic keys.

Each of the seven remaining compositions locates an enjoyable moment, before tearing beautifully through to the other side: "Piper"'s forlorn whistle launches into 70s jazz-rock and back; "Holy High" introduces pulsing Celtic psych; and the ten-minute "Ganagmanag" moves from flute swells downward into plucked strings a prog time-shift, echoed shouts, Botah's breathy count-offs, and tribal drums. Everywhere, empty spaces are lined with powerful augmentations like tiny trills, subtle noise accents, repetitions, and rock flourishes. For instance, when the Barrett cover that closes the record whispers to an end, the band kicks into a stage-clearing maelstrom of manic church organ, vibrating shouts, gongs, bells, war drums, and wiry feedback. It's this sort of unexpected pomp and swagger, mixed with the solemn ambiance, that clearly separates Hypnotic Underworld from the tree-hugging psychedelia of yore. Much more could be said, but it's more important to state plainly, in barest terms, that Ghost have emerged as one of the most formidable (and important) rock bands I know. And Hypnotic Underworld is their rollicking masterwork.