This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.
How is it, exactly, that Ghost — a Swedish metal band of devil worshipers whose members shroud their features in either skull facepaint or identical head-concealing masks and who hide their true identities behind the monikers Papa Emeritus (in the case of the lead singer) and Nameless Ghoul (each of the five instrument-playing members) — have seen years of unofficial bans from television and radio airplay due to their occult leanings suddenly lifted, resulting in a breakthrough in the American market?
"It's because of Satan, of course!" the professed "main spokesman Ghoul" cheekily noted in a phone conversation from a tour stop in St. Louis. "We have him on our side."
That would be a hell of a thing.
Before you get Tipper Gore on speed-dial to reconvene the Parents Music Resource Center ahead of the band's Saturday show at The Complex in Salt Lake City, just know that the fantastical backstory is perhaps not entirely true.
Spill it, Ghoul — is Ghost's alleged Satanism your legitimate worldview or just a subversively effective marketing ploy?
"So there's no middle ground?!" he responded with mock disdain. "I think that a lot of the things that we do and a lot of the things that we say and a lot of the things that we illustrate a certain way is not to be taken too literal," the Nameless Ghoul said. "It's more symbolic and more for entertainment purposes. … It's more of a critique against mankind and how mankind is using — to a certain degree — fables in order to be mean to each other and to trick each other."
Subversively effective marketing ploy it is, then. Of course, Ghost is a bit more than that. Call it some social commentary wrapped inside performance art, if you will. Regardless, the combination of KISS- and Alice Cooper-style showmanship with Sabbath- and Dio-influenced riffs topped off by Buck Dharma-fronted Blue Öyster Cult vocals have proven hypnotic to audiences the world over.
Don't blame the devil if you come away mesmerized.
That said, Ghost's Satan-themed lyrics are very real, as were the roadblocks the band's reputation initially posed to mainstream success in the States. While recording their second studio album, 2013's "Infestissumam," in Nashville, Ghost were repeatedly rebuffed by local choir groups approached about contributing backing vocals. Meanwhile, the group had four American CD manufacturers decline to press the album.
Much has changed since then. Ghost made their first U.S. television appearance last fall on Stephen Colbert's "The Late Show." They won a Grammy for Best Metal Performance for "Cirice," a track from their 2015 album "Meliora." And their latest EP, "Popestar," released in mid-September, just went to No. 1 on Billboard's Top Rock Albums chart.
So, why the change? (Aside from "because of Satan," that is.)
"I think that, with the test of time, we were able to embroider a somewhat multifaceted palette a little in order for people to sort of get the fact that we're not necessarily, as I said, as black and white as people might have thought of us a few years ago," the Nameless Ghoul said. "I think that it might be also a question of the cultural climate, the theological climate. I know some people that … might have shunned away from us in the past, they basically say right out, 'Well, first of all, we thought you were a Cookie Monster band, and then we thought you were all Satanic, but then I noticed that you're theater! So that's fun, that's entertainment!' "
Ghost is certainly entertaining. How could a band featuring a demonic pope and five masked Ghouls not be?
While the "shrouded in secrecy" idea was intended to put the focus on the music being played, it has often had the opposite effect. Some pay so much attention to the spectacle and the gimmick that the songs become an afterthought or are ignored altogether.
As a result, even though Ghost's frequent use of harmonies and melodies makes them closer to ABBA metal than traditional Scandinavian death metal, they frequently face yet another problem of perception.
"We want people to come out of our shows with a big smile on their face," the Nameless Ghoul said. "A lot of the other bands from [what was] originally our genre … have a little bit more harmful sort of approach to their shows. But they're mostly the sort of band that we're lumped together with, I guess, from an outsider point of view … are way, way, way, way more metal and have a predominantly all-male crowd that likes [to stomp] each other on the toes and knock each other's faces out and smear themselves in blood, and just headbang and stagedive. … It's a completely different vibe at our show than you'd expect from a black metal band show."
Removing the cloaks and masks and facepaint and papal miter could alleviate some of the negative perceptions. And doing so may even make further sense considering that no matter how hard the band members try to maintain their anonymity, their identities are bound to get out. Even now, fans with enough devotion and time to peruse the internet can crack the code. Then again, the mystique — or the appearance of it, anyway — is a significant part of Ghost's appeal, enough so that the band doesn't ever intend to fully pull back the curtain.
This is theater, remember?
"Just because it's something that you can find on Wikipedia, who's playing this or that instrument, doesn't mean that we would change anything. The same way that if I read the program to a Broadway musical, and I all of a sudden know who's playing Grizabella tonight doesn't mean that she will come out without her catsuit," the Nameless Ghoul said. "You have to regard this as theater. What you're seeing onstage is the characters being played. … I don't see that as a problem so long as we keep doing our thing aesthetically. And it defies logic if we think that we're gonna continue growing as a band and not be somewhat recognized or have the information out there somewhere."
Then again, as the 19th-century French essayist Charles Baudelaire famously said, "The finest trick of the devil is to persuade you that he does not exist."
Twitter: @esotericwalden —
P With Marissa Nadler
When • Saturday; doors at 7 p.m.
Where • The Complex (Rockwell), 536 W. 100 South, Salt Lake City
Tickets • $31.75 advance, $37.25 day of; Showclix, Smith's Tix, Graywhale, Complex box office