The adjective "cinematic" is regularly attributed to a wide swath of pop music, but obviously loses much of its direct filmmaking connotation in the translation, instead adopting the longstanding, romanticized idea of "movie magic" (one being reified by the industry itself throughout the current awards season). Thus, Marko Nyberg's quote on Husky Rescue's website that his music under this name is "strongly influenced by the power of films and the hypnotic quality of photography and paintings," while hinting that Nyberg probably doesn't watch a lot of movies on his iPod, could be taken with the same grain of salt as most other self-scribed PR blurbs.
But while there are certainly elements to Ghost Is Not Real that could fit under the "cinematic" heading, they're mostly tempered by Nyberg's equally noticeable tendency toward the timid, bordering on precious-- an imagined collaboration, perhaps, between Ingmar Bergman and Jean-Pierre Jeunet. Nyberg is cautiously ambitious with his arrangements, almost to a fault: He pushes the boundaries of bombast at times, but always mitigates extravagance with fragility. Nyberg's secret weapon in this dynamic balancing act: 20-year-old Reeta-Leena Korhola, whose delicate voice and folky tendencies hover in Nyberg's frosty atmospherics like breath on a frigid Finnish winter morning.
Ghost is a fitting follow-up to Husky Rescue's first record Country Falls, and arguably uses Korhola's voice to greater effect. Falls was filled with odes to warm weather and sunshine, and two years later, is succeeded by an album pierced by winter chill. Together, they work as a diptych that illustrates the contrasting seasons of Finland's unique climate: surprisingly warm, given its latitude, but with harsh, unforgiving winters.
Korhola and Nyberg work best together when her doe-eyed plaint meets his breezy pulses halfway, as on the gentle, bucolic swoon of "Diamonds In the Sky", and later on the tempest-in-a-teapot "Hurricane (Don't Come Knocking)". On "Diamonds", Korhola's lullabies glide gently over a bed of skittering drums and languid guitars that sound as if they were pulled straight from the masters of Dark Side of the Moon's "Breathe". For its part, "Hurricane" is Ghost's most effective loud/soft exercise, with Korhola's most forceful vocals continually giving way to Nyberg's captivating swirl of picked acoustic guitars and synths.
The album is least effective when it upsets its equilibrium by either swaying too far in one direction or failing to effectively restrain its ideas. The bumbled spoken-word of both "Shadow Run" and "Silent Woods" are failed attempts at sinister mood-pieces that end up sounding like bargain-bin Cibo Matto, and bring the album to a grinding halt right before it concludes.
While not in the same league as Falls' pop wonder "Summertime Cowboy", "Nightless Night", Ghost's second single, is the most obvious example of overabundance. Korhola rides through the verses on a chugging, muted guitar riff and makes her way to a satisfyingly fuzzed-out chorus. The lyrics, I assume, (as well as the song's video) refer to the amazing party that could take place during what's known as the "midnight sun" period in the Arctic region, when daylight lasts for 24 straight hours. "Night", however, chooses to mirror this phenomenon with an extended, and seemingly endless, middle section that stretches the song well-over seven minutes, when it only needs four or less. But this overabundance is indicative of the trap in which Ghost Is Not Real frequently finds itself. True to Nyberg's "cinematic" ambitions with this record, he too often overindulges his opulent side, when he would do best to sit back and let the story tell itself.
