My, how a few centuries changes things! Two seemingly incompatible Swedish ideologies, happily together, on tour. Enemies still exist though. Some metallic gatekeepers have soured on Ghost, claiming what started out as a dark, anti-church commentary has become too comic book and cartoon-like, a happy & kid friendly vibe. Over the years, similar (shtick over music) darts were hurled at the likes of KISS and Twisted Sister. Time will tell how Tobias Forge navigates these obstacles in a digital, multimedia age and which side of the coin Ghost ultimately land.
First saw the band in '11 (Helsinki Metal Meeting), back when sinister Pope, Papa Emeritus was the lone focal point. His onstage movement was hampered and "interactions" were restricted to facial expressions and hand gestures, neither of which transcend beyond the first few rows. If you're going to scale up, as Forge undoubtedly had plans (now a staple of the outdoor European festival circuit, playing to 20-30,000 at a clip), only the flamboyant, over-the-top antics of silent film acting can be seen by fans, a quarter mile away. What's undeniable is that a Ghost show is fun, something many have forgotten about in today's stare at the ground world. Only a handful of "next-gen" bands add a visual element to the proceedings and even fewer are as all-encompassing as Ghost.
The chronology, from one Papa to the next, has played out, in elaborate form, via online segments. However, onstage, there are lots of subtle interactions between Papa IV and his backing band of Nameless Ghouls (the playful Minions to Tobias' Gru). Most are non-verbal, such as shooing them from his center stage spotlight. Others, like tonight, when the lyrics in "From The Pinnacle To The Pit" becomes something like "You silly robot, stand your ground," can only be made out by those closest to the stage. Speaking of which, the first row, beyond the barricade, was almost exclusively female, most made up in some sort of tribute to the band: nuns in habit, Papa face paint, even a Cardinal Copia doppelganger. Elsewhere, the crowd was dominated by couples and parents with their pre-teen kids in tow, apparently unconcerned (or oblivious) to the campy, soft peddled undercurrent of irreverence (like the two word profanity stitched on the inner lining of Papa's shiny, lamé suit jackets), the occult and sex.
Ghost played the same venue, 18 months ago - the Freedom Mortage Pavilion in Camden, NJ - at the start of the Impera tour cycle. Actually, the album was still a few weeks from release, back in February, 2022. Emerging from behind a white curtain, once dropped, it's "Kaisarion", with a trio of Ghouls together, center stage. Once Papa strolls on, they scatter, like rats. Which is actually the next offering, the crowd yelling the one word title in unified voice. This time around, there's a pair of backing female singers (albeit in Ghoul guise) who add tambourine on "Rats" and the keyboards are dimly lit, almost invisible, until needed. In shimmering gold jacket, Papa epitomizes the huckster/used car salesman and equal parts over-zealous game show host. Apart from the staircase to the drums, there are platforms at either end of stage and risers throughout, occupied by the singer and musicians alike. Papa frequently vacates the stage, giving the Ghouls a chance to shine, like the segue from "Rats" to "Pinnacle". The Ghouls continue to evolve, possessing personality, if not individuality (one's even bare armed, with rolled up sleeves).
During the aforementioned "Pinnacle To The Pit", he attempts to kick one Ghoul, as another jumps into his place. When admonished, he makes an obscene gesture behind Papa's back. The song ends with the singer scaling the stairs, punctuated by a concussive explosion. Papa talks to the crowd about how hot the weather is. "I don't want you to cool down," he deadpans. "I want you to remain in heat." Cue a chorus of ravenous female screams. Radio friendly "Spillways" spotlights the keys, literally. Didn't really notice them before now, when the lighting highlights them. By contrast, the stage goes red, to start the pounding "Cirice". Sounds ominous and heavy, sort of like a moody Slayer intro. Papa returns in his ‘70s Gene Simmons bat wings. The crimson setting, complete with wisps of fog covering the floor, it looks like an old TV episode of Don Kirshner's Rock Concert. It's blue, with white spots, for "Absolution". As he descends the central staircase, it's obvious he's lost the bat wings, in favor of a ragged black waistcoat, frilly sleeves and blue tie. More explosions.
There's a subtext of the Ghouls attempting (and occasionally succeeding in) upstaging the star. Case in point, as "Absolution" ends, a Ghoul starts right into the next song (which will eventually become "Ritual"), much to Papa's chagrin. "I was going to tell (audience) a funny story, but go ahead," as he cedes center stage to the guitarist. Walks away, saying, "You stole my fucking thunder, so eat it," as he escorts the upstaging Ghoul to his "proper place," stage left. "Ritual" is also bathed in red, but with tightly focused yellows piercing through. It ends with a rogue guitar Ghoul going "rock star" holding a sustained note, as the others hold their ears and complain, albeit via non-verbal pantomime. The stage goes black and when purple lights reignite, there's a lone spotlighted guitar Ghoul. Below, on the main deck, is a bedazzled Papa, in jewel encrusted headdress and ecclesiastical robe, for a restrained moment of rest, aka "Call Me Little Sunshine". In that get-up, newcomers can see the early limitations of the original Papa incarnation. He loses the mitre, but remained stationary, center stage, swinging around a thurible/incense burner, for red hued "Con Clavi Con Dio". Again, complete blackness, upon completion.
Smoke and white lights for "Watcher In The Sky", Papa returning to his look, a few songs ago, although the black coat/blue tie outfit is now topped with a leather top hat. The cream colored Strat wielding Ghoul bends backwards and lays down a heavy dose of whammy bar, as Papa looks on, in disgust. Crimson strobes flicker as the Ghouls encircle the drum riser for "Year Zero", announced by the Latin voiceover. In strolls Papa, another costume change: a new rob and tri-corner hat. Wait, are the corners of that topper curled up, to look like horns? Fog and flames, a pair of fire cannons (on each side of the stage) jettison plumes skyward, simultaneously. Again removed the headgear, as harpsichord notes beckon a blue lit "He Is". This sedate sing-along to the Dark Lord becomes a cell phone moment (used to be cigarette lighters), without prompting. During instrumental "Miasma", where the Ghouls jam out, a glass coffin is wheeled out, containing sunglasses wearing octogenarian (or older) Papa Nihil. A couple of blasts from an AED and he's energized enough to blow a few bars on his sax, before falling back into his sarcophagus, apparently incapacitated and he's wheeled off, as quickly as he came in.
As a tie-in, upon his return, Papa references the old pontiff and talks about his musical past, "Mary On A Cross" being one of his compositions, many moons ago. It sounds like keyboard happy, Haight Ashbury psychedelia, compared to the string of "Con Clavi Con Dio", "Year Zero" and/or "He Is". Green lit, "Mummy Dust" unleashes the confetti cannons, showering the crowd in bits of gold. When Papa says he will have to call on Jesus, a few eyes are raised. Turns out, he's a crew member, with a leaf blower, to remove the residual confetti from the stage. "Thank you Jesus" is not something typically heard at a Ghost show. Funny bit. After some thank you’s, "Respite On The Spitalfields" ends the proper set. Quite a mellow finale. But the show isn't really over. Even when Papa returns, to a darkened stage, and tells everyone to go home (well, actually not THAT politely), we know there's still a few numbers left. "There is no more concert. The electricity is turned off. Get out!"
"Kiss The Go-Goat" is another bouncy, Sixties inspired piece. Second song this evening about a goat (see Amon Amarth). Papa in shimmering blue jacket, with loose black cravat. "Dance Macabre" has a simple message and even easier to figure out lyrics. With another spray of confetti, it's a fitting good time sing-along to (nearly) end a show. That honor belongs to "Square Hammer". Three Ghouls thrashing out, center stage, and another explosion, before Papa makes one last costume change: red jacket, for a song that asks all to swear allegiance to dark forces, employing such infectious music.
Purists were aghast at Amon Amarth opening for Ghost. Fact is, it presents a different demographic and truth be told, over the last few years (especially last year's Great Heathen Army release), hammer wielding Johan Hegg & Co. have developed an arsenal of (if not more poppy/commercial tunes, then) interactive, fan-friendly numbers, including "Raise Your Horns", "Heidrun" ("Who's the goat?") and the audience participation favorite "Put Your Back Into The Oar". Two inflatable, 30 foot tall warriors (although they look like stone carvings) stand sentry at opposite sides of the stage. In the center, topped by the drum kit, is a horned battle helmet. Initially, the eye slits display the Amon Amarth runes, but the images will change throughout the show.
Limited for time, the Vikings opt to introduce themselves with a retrospective, not just push the new(est) disc, including all the aforementioned, as well as some career highlights, opening with "Raven's Flight". Towering frontman Johan Hegg is an imposing figure, but did his best to put on the friendly charm. Well, as much as is possible when there are live, armed Viking re-enactors stationed on risers for "Shield Wall". Strobes pulse in time to the music, as Hegg bellows the words, like battlefield commands: "Warfare. Honor. Glory. Death." Don't know about those out on the lawn, but the singer's good will gesture seemed to work, as despite almost exclusively being in Ghost regalia (even a few dressed in elaborate Ghoul outfits), Amon Amarth received a great response down front.
As they launch into the rhythmic "Heidrun", Hegg lays out the ground rules for the uninitiated. Crowd picks up the cues and sings along. "Deceiver Of The Gods” is a little more my speed. Lit in blue/green, with four plumes of smoke, rising from the floor, a costumed Loki (the titular referenced character, from Norse mythology) is present. The musicians repeatedly switch sides, using the risers onstage, as well as the platforms, which had earlier housed the sword/ax carrying actors. Icy blue hues for "Put Your Back Into The Oar", although the anticipated rowing exercise (despite viral online videos) isn't completely convincing. Some patrons, seated in the bowl, pull it off, but the vast majority on the lawn are more concerned with circle pits or walls of death, not heeding the call.
Reds and purples, similar to the weather alerts you get on your cell phone (violent storm clouds brewing) illuminate the stage as the real life Viking warriors return, for "The Way Of Vikings". No longer at their posts, they engage in battle (as always, to the death: sword bests the axe). The slits in the drum riser/helmet now show eyes, rather than runes. The singer visits both platforms, before returning center stage. It ends with another synchronized puff of smoke, at various points across the stage, as Hegg punts an imaginary ball into the crowd. Before the next song, the burly bearded man admits, "I'll probably get beat up, after the show, for saying this, but today is (guitarist Olavi Mikkonen) birthday." In a most un-Viking moment (perhaps that's the potential issue for physical altercation), he gets the fans to yell, "Happy Birthday!" Certainly an atypical intro for "Guardians Of Asgaard". Red lights, as the helmet's eye holes know show simulated flames. Fists are raised, punching the air, as the singer gets most to shout the title, every time it appears in the song.
Wise to leave "Raise Your Horns", a fan favorite and punishing "Twilight Of The Thunder God" to the end of the set, when many Ghost fans will arrive (there's always fans of the headliner who try to miss most/all of an opening band, no matter how good they might be). Each showcases a different element of Amon Amarth's popularity. Some will enjoy the sing-along, party atmosphere, with the unity of drinking horns. Others might prefer a straight ahead dose of heavy metal. Win-win. The former sees all four (two guitars, bass and vocals) aligned across the front of the stage. The idea of raising horns means something a little different in the Amon Amarth world. It's not just throwing a couple of fingers in the air, but a drinking anthem, as Hegg willingly demonstrates, downing gulps from the alehorn (usually) strapped to his side, to start, then end that number. Stage black, the sound of the ocean crashing onshore pours out of the speakers.
The crack of thunder and the head of an (inflatable) serpent appears onstage. A buzz goes through part of the crowd, those that know what's to follow. Hegg appears, even he's diminutive, in the beast's presence. Overhead, he displays a mighty sledge hammer, preparing to vanquish the creature. As the mallet hits the deck, plumes of pressurized smoke erupt and it's on: "Twilight Of The Thunder God", in blue and purple, with white strobes. What a finale!
