Ghost Car, with matching leather chokers, come out to the bubbling cauldron of the Lexington audience. A DJ has forgotten to turn off the music so the band must stand perfectly still while she weaves between members to right the wrong. Humbled gothic, straight from the off. Through self effacing backstreets come a new breed of rockers who are the vision of extravagance with cognizant heads.
The hum of the Macca style bass threatens to subsume the opener as the guitar and synths can only manoeuvre around the weight of sound. It’s soon put on a leash though and the band swing and scream and squeak and laugh. For the rhythmic gutter pop of Selfish, Spoiled the audience breathlessly tries to be backing and main vocal. A song about ungrateful people. Is there a better city to play it in than this one?
The band has a long list of people to thank, including those who have made their clothes. They have created their own world in the Lexington. Nods to this. Gestures to that. But as the bloke from Teenage Fanclub said: there’s nothing original under the sun, there’s only new dawns.
So don’t let the black clobber and vampiric style fool you. Ghost Car deserve the light of day.
Article by Patrick Malone
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