Jan 26-29, 2006
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Ghostland Observatory
Local dance-rock duo release second album, tour west coast
By Ramon Ramirez
Daily Texan Staff
Whether it’s been the spastic live shows (complete with flamboyant pink pants) or the accessibility and appeal of their guitar-heavy dance songs, people flat-out like Ghostland Observatory.
Though only together for a year and a half, the Austin duo has had a fast-moving career. Their debut independent release, delete.delete.I.eat.meat, received all sorts of play from KVRX and had Austin’s large hipster faction tuned in.
Their music has a rare universal aesthetic that is far from watered down or simplistic. The beats are more than mere dance numbers — they are heavily layered and intricate instrumentals with a driving pulse.
“We want to make a living making crazy tripped-out shit that we like,” said Aaron Behrens, the long-haired front man.
The process unfortunately is actually a bit more complicated than that.
“The first Mars Volta album (De-Loused in the Comatorium) really inspired us,” Behrens said. “To have someone with big enough balls to put out such sound made us aspire to that level of creativity.”
Indeed Behrens’ falsetto vocals whine and stretch to their capacity much like The Mars Volta’s Omar Rodriguez-Lopez. At times Behren’s vocals slice through Turner’s beats like a blade, and other times his voice becomes an instrument of ambience for the music.
Their new album was released this week on Trashy Moped Records following last Saturday’s sold out CD release party at The Ritz. The band is currently embarking on an ambitious West Coast tour within the confined space of a van.
Thomas Turner, the drum, keyboards and electronics whiz, is the band’s wise-cracking spokesman.
“I joined a band Aaron was in,” Turner says when explaining their origins. “They didn’t like what I was doing so I abducted him. I’ve trained him well.”
Aaron Behrens, the long-haired singer, is quiet and reserved.
Onstage the roles switch: Thomas, the interjecting comedian, is all business. Unassuming and dressed in a tux, he resembles the Phantom of the Opera while he madly creates a sonic assault of noise.
He is no longer humble and laid back. Behind his shades, Behrens is both guitar god and dominatrix crowd controller, depending on the song. When he puts down his ax, the stocky man waves his hands in the air and channels Chuck D’s authority.
On one particular break down Behrens shouts, “Hammer Time!” and proceeds to get busy like a Krump dancer.
Extroverted crowd movers by night, both Behrens and Turner are low-key, laid back dudes who work regular jobs. As a result, they say, the pressures to be stylish in such a visually demanding indie scene are never an issue.
“We’re all about going out and having fun,” said Behrens, “people always ask about my braids and I just do it because I like Willie Nelson.”
For his part Turner works construction and draws influence from an unlikely source — his co-workers.
“I love to just listen to the romantic jams on the AM Radio,” Turner said, “I love chillin’ out and eating burritos that the wives of my co-workers make.”
The humble roots and personalities are a dynamic contrast to their onstage personas but it’s a balance that should help Ghostland Observatory weather the dark side of stardom.
“We really don’t worry about trying to be cool,” Behrens said, “I mean Thomas is wearing my grandfather’s jacket.”