Dirty Ghosts

Cataract

dirty ghosts, cataract
9
9/10
Joel Frieders | August 3, 2015

My passion for Dirty Ghosts is well documented here. 

I love the fact that a female-led rock band is in my top five favorite bands, and not for chauvinistic purposes bro. Far from it. 

Dirty Ghosts have pecked out this nostalgic corner of my rock box that's both throwback denim and futuristic leather. Their debut album Metal Moon was in my rotation for over a year before it got a proper release around Valentine's Day of 2012 (if I remember correctly), and it's still one of my favorite recent rock albums. Without the visual of what they look like in person, Dirty Ghosts have cemented a late 80s rock vibe, but it's only fully cured when you actually see these fuckers in person. 

Dirty Ghosts sound like tight jeans, Ramones tshirts, Gibson SGs, Thunderbirds, and a super fucking dope see-thru pager, and that's exactly what you're greeted with when you finally get off your ass and see this band live (two or three times for me), but the live show is just a confirmation that what your ears had deemed cool was in fact, in person, fucking cool. 

Normally when you refer to how a band looks there's something missing from their sound, but in this case I can only heap puddles and puddles of props upon Dirty Ghosts because I'm so fucking enamored with how precisely specific the Dirty Ghosts vibe is. They've crafted everything about their image in a way that seems both accidental and intentional, and it's enthralling in a way that might get a few of us slapped with a restraining order or at the very least, a fat fucking lip. 

Their latest EP, of which I had absolutely no fucking knowledge of besides seeing a random Facebook post the day of its release, is a short three songs (it also includes two remixes; one of the title track and another from Metal Moon), but the direction they're headed is fucking inspiringly delicious. 

Cataract sounds like Boca Raton, Florida. It's locked in the 80s, with its high waisted pastels, low-toned distorted guitars, wide open hihats and plunky shrill synths, but there's something next level lingering under the top layer of SPF 3000 sunscreen, and it almost forces you to dissect each guitar lick and bass thump as you start the songs over and over. 

I love how the guitars were so well recorded you can hear how low the action is. The fret buzz on this motherfucker is both completely on purpose and absolutely fucking welcome. I haven't been this "HOLY HELL HOW'D THEY CAPTURE WHAT NORMALLY ONLY TRANSLATES FROM PLAYING AN UNPLUGGED ELECTRIC GUITAR ON THE PORCH WHEN YOU'RE STONED OUT OF YOUR MIND?" in forever bro.

Alysson Baker womanhandles the shit out of each solo like she knows some teenager is going to try to write out the tablature and play along with the shit in front of the mirror (JUST ME?). Each of the three new songs the Cataract EP drops could fit perfectly anywhere inside an 80s movie montage, but I've also considered just filming myself running shirtless in slow motion and self-broducing each of the music videos and only swapping out different color sweatbands for wardrobe bro. 

I think you should spend the six fucking bucks and buy this sumbitch because it's a light purple Miami Vice tshirt printed cherry on top of a day drinking downtown fucking dive bar sundae. Dirty Ghosts are stick shifts and iPods bro, the perfect smooshingsness of the obviously retro and slyly next generation.