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March 2002
Ink 19 Music - Culture - Tech
ink19.com
Living Room Music
Not Gonna Get It
Arts Records
Ghostbeat is a duo from Florida consisting of vocalist/singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Bryan Tilford and percussionist/singer Ken Green. On their Web site, they admit "we drop names" -- they're a little obsessive about their influences: Joe Jackson, King Crimson, The Beatles, Paul Simon, Peter Gabriel, Brian Eno, Steely Dan, Talking Heads, Adrian Belew, They Might Be Giants, Robyn Hitchcock, and, above all, those lovable Swindonians XTC. And man oh man, do these two CDs sound like a mix of all those musical acts; it's like someone took all the smart white pop people ever and popped 'em in the blender.
Not Gonna Get It is the "full band" album, which means it has bass guitar on it; these are ten adorable songs that whip by in almost a half-hour. These range from the country-fried semi-talkin'-blues of "Tired Asleep or Cryin'" to the pure pop of "Adventure Girl" -- "Blowing up was never this much fun/You turned me on before you turned me in" is just a classic damned way to start an album. Sure, these songs just sound a whole lot like the sum of their influences, which can get annoying at times ("Mim's Basement" should occasion a call from Andy Partridge's lawyer). But it's crunchy, it's power-chordy, it's cute as all hell, it's the funnest thing released in many a year.
But if you want the real picture of Ghostbeat, try Living Room Music, which is 65 minutes of just Brian and Ken playing acoustically. (These songs have already been released as most of a cassette, but that was years ago, so treat it like it's a new album, okay?) They might not have the punch of the Not Gonna Get It songs ("Bug in My Car" hits harder and sounds better in its electric version), but this is the kernel of the band: Bryan and Ken wailin' away. And it's more emotionally intimate to hear them this way, too -- the deep stuff, like "Balance," seems deeper this way, and the ridiculous stuff, like "Backwards School," doesn't seem quite as ridiculous. Plus, it's more than twice as long, which means more than twice as good.
The biggest problem with Ghostbeat is that they just don't have enough stuff out there for the philistine public to ignore. Can someone give these guys a genius grant or something so they can quit their day jobs and do some more of this great shit?
- Matt Cibula
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Lollipop Magazine's Water review
spring 1997
LOLLIPOP Music and Entertainment Magazine (Boston)
Nominated Best Florida Pop Band of 1996, Ghostbeat provides singable melodies spanning a wide range of styles. While the moody acoustic numbers are intriguing and complex, the novelty of untraditional percussion instruments
fails to carry the tune anywhere memorable. In contrast, the happier Ben Folds
Five/Squeeze-influenced pop songs are brimming with giddy energy, clever, all-
over-the-map melodies, and Jellyfish/Beatlesque harmonies with an occaisional
squirt of lemon in yer eye to keep you on your toes. Each song, and the flow
from song to song, is broken by the musical equivalent of a quiet, odd-smelling
fart in a comfortably formal setting. Parts of the CD are easily recognizable
and instantly likable, but it's the "Was that the sound of a silverware drawer
being opened, in harmony?" elements that make Water a disc to digest
slowly. If Ghostbeat stick to off-beat pop and can the funk noodlings, dreary
soundscaping, and straight-from-a-cheap-amp guitar sound, they may emerge a
top-notch "quirky" pop band. The unmarked bonus tracks provide additional
snippets, much like They Might Be Giants "Fingertips," and show Ghostbeat to be
a wildly creative band with a bright future. This is the playful goose pop
music desperately needs. - Scott Hefflon
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February 1997
INK 19 Music - Culture - Tech (Atlanta/Tampa/Orlando)
Refreshment has arrived. Ghostbeat's Water will satisfy Perrier and tap-water
connoisseurs alike. One of Melbourne, Florida's longest running and most
versatile bands, Ghostbeat's first CD venture explodes with almost as much energy
as the band demonstrates live. Multi-talented musicians, superlative songwriting,
Ken Green's versatile drumming, and the amazing harmonies of Bryan Tilford and
Joe Lamy all combine to slake even the most raging thirst. What amazes me is that
this band wasn't snatched up years ago by a major record label. Poking fun at
the American dream ("Heavensboro"), the brooding ("Monument"), the painful ("Gone
Away Saturday"), forgotten history ("Dust Storm"), and the silly but thought provoking ("Is
That You") - these are just a few examples of Ghostbeat's vast repertiore.
There's even a surprise similar to the end of Nirvana's Nevermind. These
three guys have been playing together for several years, and their hard work and
talent is obvious to even a musical novice such as myself. No matter what your
personal taste may be, you can't help but appreciate Water. The only
complaint I have is that this wasn't out a couple of years ago. Ghostbeat's
Water is avaiable at all Ghostbeat shows (they'll even autograph it for
you). or direct from the label. www.ghostbeat.com for more information.
Bullsitter Records, 366 Sterling St., Atlanta, GA 30307 - Elayne Carringer
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January 1997 JAM Florida Music Magazine
GHOSTBEAT Water (13-song CD)
These Melbourne musicians are
definitely on to something. With certain similarities to Squeeze and
Sandbox, each selection has it's own identity ranging from edgy rock, to
out-there alternative. The hot numbers are "Select You," expressing a
modern-gypsy feel with stand out percussion, sweet sounding acoustic
guitar parts, and flowing bass line accompaniment. "On the Way" highlights
the band's background vocal mixes filled with lots of commercial energy.
Water showcases Ghostbeat's biting guitars (with no solos in sight),
clean vocals, and inviting drum beats accentuated by roto toms. -S.S. Scott
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February 1997
by Anton Wagner
I don't think I've known any other band as long as I've known Ghostbeat.
Oh sure, I've known the Beatles since I was three, and the Police since I was
fourteen, but not personally, no. The first time I met Ghostbeat (or gostbit,
or gohstveet, or...), Ghostbeat was essentially Bryan Tilford, a transplant
from Nashville and "the mountains." Bryan had come down to the college radio
station where I was interning, and had a couple of songs to cart up - carting
being the process by which you transfer your music from a plebeian cassette or
DAT format into a more radio-friendly and far superior eight-track cartridge.
It wasn't long before I witnessed one of Ghostbeat's many transformations.
A wierdly organic industrial track named "Sam I Am" with lyrics borrowed from
Dr. Seuss, as you might expect, was soon receiving serious airplay, and was
actually being requested by listeners. You'd have thought it was real music.
"Sam I Am," which featured the precocious young voice of Matthew Brown, which
combined with a driving beat and a couple of other excesses (Bryan rolls his
eyes when "Sam I Am" is brought up) into quite a memorable track.
From about that point, I've known Ghostbeat first as friends then as a band,
and though I've been raving about the band to anyone who would care
to hear for years, Water, their new CD, gives me the ample reason to
feature their talents in print. But back to our story...
Shortly thereafter, Ghostbeat was performing as a duo, with Bryan on
keyboards/guitar/vocals/sampler/technology and a singing/chanting frontman
named Cutter. The sound was...you could have called it late-80s industrial, but
in reality it was Ghostbeat. Bryan's musical tastes, which range from Sakamoto
to XTC to Eno, have a tendency to creep in, disregarding boring civilities like
an invitation or musical appropriateness altogether.
As the years flew by, Ghostbeat underwent several mutations. Cutter left, and
was eventually replaced by "Dark" Joe Lamy, who had previously enjoyed moderate
success in Tallahassee's The Pedestrians. A succession of staff changes ensued -
mostly drummers - but through it all, Ghostbeat was decidedly evolving, perpetually
changing and becoming a more organic unit for performing the bands unusual
compositions. The current lineup, however, has been solid for over three years,
a fact whose pronouncement is greeted with amazement from Lamy. It looks like
this is the permanent Ghostbeat for now. "Yes, it's set in pumice stone," states
Joe. "Or until Joe breaks out of the shackles," adds drummer Ken Green.
"We've all got a little co-dependency thing going, like popsicle sticks leaning
against each other," explains Joe. "It seems to have worked, because this is the
first band I've been in where everybody doesn't hate each other. Though I must
say that I think they all hate me and just don't tell me."
"It's Ken's subtle mental manipulations that keep us all in line," confides Bryan.
"I don't hate him that much..." corrects Ken.
Ken is also the capstone to a long succession of drummers. "Um, 'succession" is
not the right word to use. How about 'line'?" asks Bryan. "There was a circular
queue of drummers, actually" concedes Joe.
And what about the Nashville days? Recalls Bryan, "I was just a wandering
minstrel. There was a 'gostbit-ish' like entity that existed. I've read the
legends and I remember it like a dream." And this is all documented on tape?
"You know - it is. Come over to my house and you'll be sorry you asked.
I was influenced by true African tribal music, Yellow Magic Orchestra, Sakamoto
in the really bleepy stage...Japan's very experimental, esoteric, totally
off-center beats. Bill Laswell's experiments. Mix all that with even more
bizaare stuff: forbidden rituals, excorcism chants."
Which is a long way off from the sounds Ghostbeat produces today. It's hard to
figure out how Ghostbeat has managed to change so rapidly without making a
conscious effort - there has been no "We'd like to introduce the new Ghostbeat
Mark II and their new sound." "It's probably one of those Doppler effect things
which you don't notice unless you're not there," explains Joe. "There's
obviously a change between Here Now and Field of Wild, and the
changes have probably been more gradual since then. Here Now was a
notable phase," Bryan clarifies, "The Monkees meet Nine Inch Nails."
For a while, Ghostbeat was Bryan and several chunks of machinery. "Friends
of his, including myself," remembers Joe, "came up to him and said, 'Bryan,
this is a bad idea, having all these machines up on stage. We recommend you get
live people.' So he says, 'Why don't you do it?' That was the first step, turn
the machines off. We both had a keyboard that we stood behind. And we thought
we were awesome, because we were showing off that we could both play the keyboards
and sing, and do a lot of things at the same time while never once looking at the
audience."
The fact that Ghostbeat is a trio does not imply that their instrumentation is
sparse and rudimentary. While you couldn't call the Ghostgear excessive, it's a
fair amount, notable because of the most amazing example of gig-packing I've ever
seen. Band transportation consists of a Volkswagen Rabbit, a Honda Prelude, and
a Nissan Sentra, all two-door coupes. Into that, Ghostbeat fits: A full P.A.
(four monitors and two mains), a drum kit, a couple-three doumbeks and miscellaneous
percussion, full-sized keyboard, bass guitar, a big rack full of signal processing,
mixers, etc., huge bass cabinet, teeny guitar rig, mike stands, cords, acoustic
guitar, electric guitar, and the band itself. "Ever seen all those clowns getting
out of the car?" asks Tilford. "We put all the equipment on top of them. They
were pissed."
But coming back to Ghostbeat's sound: "This is really how it works, this is why the
music has that evolution to it." Bryan Tilford is about to release the secret.
"It really depends on what I'm listening to and what I like at the time, and I
think, 'well, I could do something like that.' Then I attempt to do it,
and end up nowhere near it. Whatever it turns out to be though, I'll cling to.
I'll want to write something like a Talking Heads song, and I'll try.."
"... and he'll play it for me, " finishes Joe, "and I'll say it sounds like
.38 Special."
Ghostbeat has never been short for new songs. When asked whether they'd consider
themselves a prolific band Joe replies: "Bryan is a prolific band. We're
good side hands. I write a song every year and a half." "I just can't stop,"
explains Bryan. "I feel like I'm wasting my strings - they cost too much."
When do all these songs come? "Anytime. Over the years, I've learned to compose
in my head, to hear it, while I was driving, and then when I have a job driving
all day, I am able to figure out the songs, then get home and play them. And it's
Joe that taught me to do that, and he doesn't even know it."
Joe - "What!? When'd I do that?"
"By doing the barbershop tags." Bryan is referring to some of the short Ghostbeat
jingles you'll hear at a live show, and which are tagged to the end of the
Water CD. Put the disc on shuffle and you'll get something quite like a
Ghostbeat show. Except there's no new songs the next time you play it... back
to our regular programming. "Doing the barbershop tags and having to associate the
numbers with the actual move, whereas before, as you know, I was never that
precise or determined to land in a certain area every time. And when we were
doing those tags, it was obvious. Of course, I learned music through theory, but
it took years of studying the African stuff to make me forget that, and I
successfully did, because now I don't think about it at all. But now, when I hear
it in my head, I can actually see the playing of it."
Still, despite the plethora of material, there is mention of some of those early
Ghostbeat songs making a reappearance in upcoming sets. "Bryan's a recycler of
songs, which is usually a sign that the well's running dry," Joe muses. "I
object, your honor," objects Tilford.
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