John Grant: Pale Green Ghosts

John Grant used to be easy to pin down. His 2010 debut album Queen Of Denmark was a relatively straightforward collection of singer-songwriterly angst-pop. Dragged down by drugs and a deeply embedded self-loathing, the ex-Czars frontman had penned a record that was by turns dreamy and haunted, rooted in his Midwestern childhood and the early guilt he felt about being gay (his family were the local religious weirdos and would, he suspect, have disowned him outright had they known his orientation).
The darkness endures but, on his second solo album, almost everything else has changed: Pale Green Ghosts is largely a retro-synth pop affair, Grant’s deep grainy voice paired with thunking beats and brittle, treated strings. Following an acclaimed album is not always straightforward and, with Grant known to suffer crises of confidence, it was an open question as to how he would follow Queen Of Denmark. Rather than try to repeat that success, he’s decided to change the context entirely: ‘Black Belt’ fuses German minimal techno and New York gay disco; ‘Vietnam’ sounds like Dead Can Dance minus the hurdy-gurdies and lutes. On a handful of tracks he glances back at the acoustic pop of his debut album. Otherwise, Grant has moved on. You hope his fanbase is willing to make the leap with him.