Ghost Bath

Ghost Bath

Amigo the Devil, Elagabalus, Ashes Of Mankind

Sat, March 4, 2017

Doors: 8:00 pm / Show: 9:00 pm

$12.00

This event is 18 and over

Ghost Bath
Ghost Bath
Ghost Bath refers to the act of committing suicide by submerging one's self in a body of water. Ghost Bath writes and creates under the assumption that music is an extension of one's own soul. They journey through the sorrow and sadness that all lives experience, but leave a glimmer of hope. They portray both deep anguish and angelic soundscapes that are sure to leave an impression on the listener.

The band began in October of 2013 with the release of their self-titled EP on Solitude Productions (China). This was followed by their debut LP titled, "Funeral," which was released on Pest Productions (China) in June of 2014. "Moonlover," their latest LP was released originally on Northern Silence Productions (Germany) and is now being re-released through Nuclear Blast Entertainment.

"Our cowardice to succumb to the ultimate release of death in suicide leaves us ambling the paths of gravesites at night. And the reflection of the moon guides us so. Isolation, longing, darkness, the night, and coming to terms with an extreme form of introversion would best describe the ideas behind Moonlover.

This mixture of beauty and pain is something we've embraced since day one." - "Nameless"

Moonlover is the first part of a trilogy of albums we plan to release. It encompasses the human experience and dwells within the minds of those who walk the earth. It deals with a longing for death and an eventual journey to realize the death instinct, Thanatos. A sort of numb sadness drenches this albums tracks; melancholy, tragedy, and despair all take hold of Moonlover at any given moment. The album could be compared to Dante's Purgatorio, the middle ground of the spirit world. The moon also is of importance as the ruling celestial body of the night on earth. The perception of the moon comes at a time of isolation and solitude.

The bonus track, "Ascension," is a transitional point for both the band as an entity and musical direction of the albums to come. The title refers to a journey into the heavens, a hint to where the next installment of our album trilogy will go. We feel that it envelopes the sounds of Moonlover, while also leading the listener to what will come next.

The music video for "Golden Number" was birthed from a short story written by Nameless. It is an introduction into the band as a whole, revealing the definition of Ghost Bath; the act of committing suicide by drowning. Symbolism can be found throughout the video ritual, mainly, the symbolic and literal death of oneself as an ultimate solution to the unrelenting anxieties and stressors of waking life.

A recently found note...

"He walked the graveyard every night. I watched from my bedroom window. His pitch black cloak fluttered in the wind and the silhouette of his sauntering walk proved hard to catch in the darkness of the graves beneath the trees. It was after a few months of observing that I decided to follow him. He admired the many tombstones and crypts before turning down an abandoned part of town. I tucked my head into the front of my sweater to brave the cold and kept back as to not alert him.

We arrived at a broken down shack of a home and he walked down a set of wooden stairs. I could hear whispers and screams coming from the basement and, as much as I wanted to turn around right there, I did not falter, continuing into the abyss. A small crowd gathered near what I presumed to be a stage. They chatted quietly under sounds of agony projecting from behind a nearby door. A small amount of candlelight revealed music equipment on stage ready to be played.

Before long the tortured screams came to an end. The mysterious door opened and group of robed individuals solemnly ambled towards the instruments in a single file line. The crowd shushed itself quickly and all eyes turned. With equipment in hand, most of the candles were blown out leaving an eerie atmosphere. A soft intro was played on the piano in the corner. It was beautiful.

Then something strange happened. As the piano intro ascended into intense chords, complicated scales, and heartfelt melodies, a pure, porcelain bathtub was carried into the room. A few members of the audience set candles around the tub while others filled the bath with clear water. An aroma of lily-of-the-valley filled the room and danced in unison with the passionate sound of piano keys.

Soon, the guitars sprang forth. The beginning chords were loud and startled me. When the full band entered a song all at once my heart almost couldn't take it. Delicate guitars, alluring keys, and an unrelenting drum sound saturated the cellar air. It comforted me more than I ever imagined music could. When the vocalist began his howls of anguish, I knew this was something different. His arms shown vivid crimson gashes that told the story of a lonely and disturbed soul. Contrast of uplifting, almost angelic, music and the vocalist's deep pain created conflict that spoke to me. Not a dry eye existed in the place. The first tune finished with more piano and all I could hope for was more.

A stunningly gorgeous woman strolled onto the stage after a good amount of songs had been played. Her jet black hair nestled on her shoulders. She also wore a robe and released it onto the ground near the bath. Her arms, thighs, and stomach exposed a life lived in depression. Scars marked her otherwise perfect flesh. She gazed upward and stepped into the frigid tub one foot at a time. She lied down and her face sunk in clear liquid. Her auroral jade eyes remained visible in the water. I shot a stare to the others around but not one of them moved.

Swells in the continuing music released all tension. My thoughts propelled into brilliance visions soaring through the clouds above. Before the magnificent bridge came to an end the woman gaped her mouth wide. Her jaw remained in eternal yawn. As water filled her lungs, a smile grew on her pale cheeks. She floated to the top of the bath - lifeless.

Such conflict of emotions. Such a contrast of distress and euphoria. When the song concluded I quickly regained my senses. I had just witnessed someone taking their own life. My heart raced as a shiver ran down my arms. Before the next song could begin I found myself sprinting up the splintered staircase and through the graveyard -the sleeping fields. Sleep did not come easy.

No signs of the previous night's events existed upon my return the next morning. I scoured the deserted home without success. But just as I decided to give up my eyes caught a glimpse of two words carved into the bottom wooden stair: "Ghost Bath."
Amigo the Devil
Amigo the Devil
If you never met him, you might mistake Amigo the Devil for a monster. The 25-year-old murderfolk maudit's most popular song is called "Perfect Wife." With gallows humor to make Marshall Mathers wince, it details gruesome spousal abuse that escalates until the wife rifle-blasts her husband.

Two other beloved anthems are "Dahmer Does Hollywood" and "The Reluse," which was originally titled, "Ed Gein." The latter opens this month's self-released Diggers EP by loosely sketching the necrophiliac Wisconsin serial killer who once made a belt out of human nipples. Think Johnny Cash at his blackest, mixed with Father John Misty, if he exhumed graves at Hollywood Forever Cemetery.

"Everyone has morbid thoughts, but there's a very large gap between having insanely sick thoughts and actually doing them," says the Miami-raised Devil, born Danny Kiranos. "But these people exist, and I'm fascinated by them. I'm sure as hell never gonna know what it feels like."

If you saw the Devil from a distance, his heavily tattooed appearance could confirm your most sinister expectations. He has beefy, butcher's forearms and a keg-shaped upper body. But if you look closer, many tattoos are jokes: There's God with an iPod, drinking a beer and thinking about breasts; bees on his knees; and sad dinosaurs crying with the bubble quote, "God doesn't believe in us." Several are devoted to horror movies. The rest are "just bullshit."

This morbid sensibility has run through all his creative endeavors. He first came to L.A. at 18 to make horror films at the Los Angeles Film School. But after an impromptu cocaine and whiskey binge on the morning of orientation, he quit by noon, and instead enrolled in a local culinary school.

After graduation, he moved to San Francisco to get a job at a brewery. Growing up in Florida, he'd dabbled in metal and hardcore bands, but nothing took off like the Devil.

"One day I was bored and drunk and picked up a banjo. 'Perfect Wife' came out immediately," he says.

He put that first song and several subsequent others on MySpace. Feedback was unanimously positive, but music stayed a hobby as the Devil pursued a master's degree in brewing, attending schools in Chicago and Berlin. He eventually moved to Orlando to open his Cassadaga Brewing, named after the Florida town deemed "The Psychic Capital of the World." Each beer was named after a famous murder victim.


Between stints in San Diego and Orlando, the Devil recorded his debut EP, Manimals, which sold 2,000 copies almost entirely via word-of-mouth. No label, no booking agent, not even a website.

By the end of 2011, his cult's strength convinced him to sell his brewing equipment, trade his car in for a van and move back west.

Amigo the Devil has since split his time between L.A. and San Diego, recording Diggers at Sunset Lodge Studios in Silver Lake and playing shows across the country. Fans have ranged from the tattooed and savage to well-heeled 40-year-olds to frat bros. The only similarity is that they all sing along.

Just three tracks, Diggers displays why the Devil is far more than a folkie with a dark side. There's a sepulchral beauty, acid wit and ingenious arrangements. Both his larynx and his lyrics make him one of the most unique voices in music -- even if he sticks only to songs of the doomed.

"The best moments for Amigo have been when I felt the worst, just hung over, terrible situations. It's not heartbroken stuff but when I feel like shit," the Devil laughs. "There's a weird perception: Some people think I just sit at home drinking whiskey all day and beating the shit out of things -- which is true."
Elagabalus
Elagabalus
Benjamin Price: drums, vocals, sounds
Dustin Swanson: bass, synth, vocals, sounds

Unhinged, dissonant black metal mania, fueled by bass, synth, and a whirlwind of percussion.
Ashes Of Mankind
Venue Information:
Metro Gallery
1700 North Charles Street
Baltimore, MD, 21201
http://themetrogallery.net/