The Ghost of 29 Megacycles don’ just build walls of sound, they construct a cavernous edifice of saturated sustain and droning reverb. As a band who’ve appropriated their name from a John Fuller book on electronic voice phenomenon, it comes as no surprise to find the music invokes the thought of white noise – the record is built on amorphous musical parts that thrive on monotony. There are no obvious melodies, but instead the Perth outfit invite listeners to delve into the murky ether and discover a voice for themselves.
Listening to The Ghost of 29 Megacycles, I can’ help but picture an underwater world where the light shimmers and dances above you, permeating the liquid and filtering down, dappling throughout the imperceptible blackness of the deep ocean. If mermaids were providing a soundtrack for me, it would be The Ghost of 29 Megacycles. Song titles like “Twilight’s Last Gleaming’ and “…Of Love and Colour’ only aid my fantasy.
But for a band playing serious music, they evidently don’ take themselves very seriously, considering the album is entitled Neil Diamond Is Not The God of Thunder and Rock and Roll. The cinematic quality of this record will ultimately find The Ghost of 29 Megacycles labeled a post-rock band – a genre tag that implies pretentiousness of the up-most degree – so perhaps it’s their way of breaking the shackles of preconception.
The modus operandi here is relatively simple: pick a drone and meditate on it for an extended period of time. It’s hypnotic, almost pious in the way that the songs draw you in with their simple, yet evocative musical mantras. The Ghost of 29 Megacycles infiltrates your body and soul with an austere brand of music that will undoubtedly offer a unique listening experience to everyone who puts this album on.
Dom Alessio
