2024 has been a great year for alternative sacred music, exemplified in albums from Shards, Salt of the Sound, Andrzej Pietrewicz and Wild Up (performing the music of Julius Eastman). Now we can add the Ghostwriter quartet, led by Mark Brent, to the mix. Brent is responsible for the music, while the singers are Michael Weston King of My Darling Valentine, Anglican bishop Andrew Rumsey (competing for the title of Coolest Bishop Ever) and the solo artist Suzy Mangion.
Tremulant is holy in the same manner as Cloisters; it’s no surprise that they once shared space on the Second Language label, although the new album can be found on Subexotic. The press release is calling the new LP “a reconstructed hymnal,” which sounds about right; the lyrics are taken from time-worn classics beamed across the centuries into brand new settings. The beauty of the album is that it is reverent yet modern, with wide-open spaces in which no lyrics roam. The music is part modern composition, part ambient and part folk, with a little bit of rock thrown in for good measure. While it might be at home in the room on the cover, a modern structure with bulk-bought chairs, one can also imagine it in a high-ceilinged cathedral.
None of this is apparent from the first track, “Satan, Your Kingdom Must Come Down,” which has the length (2:58) and accessibility to appear on a daring country or contemporary Christian radio station. The vocals are confident and clear, augmented by spare percussion and bass, which only spring into the foreground in the closing seconds; there’s even a mouth harp. Then the first of two long tracks, “I Stand Amazed,” calls parishioners back to classic worship, with harmony, bells and hints of “Amazing Grace.” The hymn was written by Chas. H. Gabriel in 1905. while the backdrop and interludes are modern. This version even stops and restarts midway with a countermelody, something the original author may not have envisioned, before softtly reentering the canon.
Two short pieces, “Here” and “Often Forfeit,” serve as appetizers for the main course. “Here” is only a minute long, an instrumental palette cleanser containing the sounds of movement in a hall, while “Often Forfeit” contains a single verse and chorus lying in the center of an instrumental bed. While the title is found in “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” this is a different animal, with field recording and subdued speech. Again the track halts, as if for silent prayer, before filing out.
This leaves the album’s most stunning track, the sixteen-minute “The Anchor,” which begins with spoken word bearing a bishop’s intonation, resonant and deep. When the verse ends, a sea shanty begins, a perfect accompaniment, and then, to our surprise, a segment of what one might classify as Rachel’s-style post-rock. For a third time, the music stops, leading to the clanks and whooshes of ship and wind; one can feel the storm as it approaches, followed by on-board radar and a swath of percussion. The conditions change again in the next movement, with a pure, unadulterated voice and an organ that appears and disappears like crests and troughs. As new voices join in harmony, one can feel the power of sailors united, or a congregation fused. Priscilla J. Owens’ Scottish-Welsh classic has endured for nearly two centuries, and this gorgeous rendition still adds something new and exciting. When the lyrics recede, gentle, lapping waves appear, and the music rises in a hymn of thanksgiving.
The success of Tremulant is that it brings church music outside the church, while challenging staid conceptions of what is fitting inside a church. If Ghostwriter tours our nearby house of worship, it will be well worth setting up the chairs. (Richard Allen)