When Ghost emerged from the Swedish metal scene, they were a provocative study in contrasts. Starting with their 2010 debut album Opus Eponymous, the band have created slashing hard rock with lyrics that frequently express admiration for Satan—though much of their music is also danceable and infectiously catchy (the blasphemy is also moderated with flashes of humor). Besides the music, Ghost have, in effect, created their own parallel universe wherein band members are masked “Nameless Ghouls” led by a series of satanic “anti-popes”—the latest of whom, Papa V Perpetua, was introduced to fans in February. Along with a memorable cast of supporting characters, they’re featured in a series of popular comedic webisodes; the 20th one premiered on April 1.
This complex mix of musical styles, themes, and theatricality continues with Skeletá, Ghost’s sixth studio album, which is set for release on April 25 via Loma Vista Recordings. Their first single from the album, “Satanized,” has hit the Top 10 on the “Mainstream Rock” chart in the US, proving just how successful Ghost have become despite the controversy they continue to generate.
Leading up to Skeletá’s release, Ghost will set off on an extensive world tour that includes headlining Madison Square Garden on July 22, marking their first time performing at that legendary venue. But as Ghost’s frontman/visionary Tobias Forge tells me during a recent video call from his record company’s Stockholm office, all of this success once seemed like an impossible dream.
How do you feel as you’re approaching the album’s release date?
Happy and relieved that I’ve been able to make one. Probably there are artists who feel that the more albums you make, the easier it becomes, because you just have to perform a certain sound—and if you just make 40 minutes of that sound, it’ll qualify as an album. Of course this is not most artists, but some people are like that: “It’s just work, it doesn’t have to mean anything.” I haven’t reached that blasé state yet, so I really try to put my heart and soul into a record. And with experience, it doesn’t actually get easier. It makes it harder, because you want to make a big impact, not only with momentum and commercially, but you also want to surprise people. You don’t want to write the same song twice. So every time I’ve managed to finish a record—this one included—is actually with a sense of relief.
Why did you choose Skeletá as the album title?
Because I wanted this record to be close to the bone. General sentiments on the record were supposed to come off as very core, fundamental, rudimentary feelings, basically: hate, hope, despair, love, lust. As opposed to how some subjects on previous records were a bit more focused on, “This is an asshole over here and he’s doing this, and this is another asshole over here and he’s doing that.” This is more like, “I, too, am an asshole.”
How did you learn to write such evocative lyrics?
Practice. For as long as I’ve been speaking English and for as long as I’ve been in bands, I’ve always taken it upon myself to be the lyric writer. I’ve always had a romantic relationship with the English language, and I’ve always collected phrases and words. And also being super influenced by a lot of artists who were poetic in their tone. One simple example would be Jim Morrison. I really put time into trying to write new lyrics, trying to write new rhymes, and I try not to recycle too many things that I’ve written before. It is getting harder and harder to communicate things with a new set of words.
“Previous records were a bit more focused on, ‘This is an asshole over here and he’s doing this, and this is another asshole over here and he’s doing that.’ Skeleta is more like, ‘I, too, am an asshole.’”
What do you think it is about Ghost’s music that makes it connect so strongly with listeners?
I think there’s a connectivity between what I do based on the fact that I constructed the idea of Ghost as being a concoction of all the things that I like. I’m not very unique in my taste, and I think the reason why it’s resonating is probably because a lot of people like the same things as I do, or I’m like a lot of other people in my way of seeing the world. And probably because Ghost is essentially having a dual message where it’s supposed to be scary and hostile while it actually has a sort of humane and humanistic message. And I think that a lot of people like myself—sort of offside, socially—can relate to the idea of being a misanthrope, but also loving people, in some weird paradox. Hating man and mankind and thinking that the world is fucked up, but you also find so much beauty in it that it’s worth fighting for. And that’s the messaging that I’m trying to convey through Ghost. The messaging is actually quite hopeful—or at least that’s my intent.
What made you want to become a musician in the first place?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a fan of music. I was very little when I was watching MTV in Sweden—I was watching a video, “Rock You Like a Hurricane” or Twisted Sister or something like that, and it dawned on me that you can be like they are. They’re human like you are, and have a skill set you can mimic, and you can dress up like they do. This was the early ’80s, so everybody was dressed up in funny costumes, and those were easy to mimic with my bigger brother’s spike belts. I could borrow stuff from him, and within a few moments I could dress up like [Mötley Crüe’s] Nikki Sixx.
And being able to transition like that, it wasn’t far-fetched to think, “Maybe I should play an instrument.” And I started mastering guitar. At my kindergarten, we had a guitar, but we also had a piano, so I played a lot of piano when I was a kid—which I still do. Not professionally, but I like playing piano. It was a perfectly natural way of communicating. That would’ve been a fact even if I wouldn’t have made it. Even if no one wanted to listen to me, I still would’ve done it. And that’s why it’s a calling.
When you created Ghost, how did you come up with the blend of hard rock and the big theatrical element?
The concept of Ghost was pretty much a product of me finally being pragmatic. I spent all my teenage years and my whole twenties waiting for the big break. I thought I was one week away from being saved by some A&R who was going to give me an advance, and I was going to be let go from the chains of society and not have to find a job. When I was 28, it really dawned on me that I probably won’t make it, and my life is going to be somewhat balanced between being a dad at that point and having a job. It really hit me that I might have to change course. But if I’m going to do that, I might have to have a really, really, really fucking enjoyable hobby. So I’m going to put all my eggs in one basket and just choose the one musical project that I could live with as a hobby.
“I think that a lot of people can relate to the idea of being a misanthrope, but also loving people, in some weird paradox. Thinking that the world is fucked up, but you also find so much beauty in it that it’s worth fighting for.”
That was the first time I ever thought of a musical product as a hobby. Even when I was playing death metal, I wanted my old band, Repugnant, to be the biggest death metal band on the planet. I wanted us to be like Sepultura. I wanted us to be like Morbid Angel. I wanted us to be a big band who toured all the time and made money off of playing. But if I was not going to do that, if I wasn’t becoming a professional musician, at least I could do something that would be fun and enthusing enough to serve as the one outlet that I could’ve intermingled with being a normal person with a regular job.
And then Ghost happened. I knew this wasn’t going to be us dressing up in T-shirts. This is going to be a theatrical band. This is going to be an image. And maybe we’ll even be anonymous, that would be cool. Something as close to Broadway and West End as it possibly can. And what would that be? That would be a band that’s completely masked, that has this over-the-top theatrical show. So that’s where my head was going.
What do you think about the legacy you’ve created with Ghost so far?
I couldn’t be happier that my hobby project turned into this life-changing craft. This is my life’s work. I was happy without it, too, in a completely different way. I was happy with my wife and my kids—we were living in a little rental apartment, and they were cute and we were in love and things were quite dandy before, too. But of course I prefer having made it this far with this, because it definitely has given me everything in my life that I wanted and more. FL
