Whilst the circumstances of Claudia's egress may remain suitably obscure ('personal reasons' were ambiguously touted as motive), if there were ever any smouldering animosity between brothers Benjamin and Brandon the reddening hatchet's indubitably been shoved six feet under as the latter contributes additional production and aids the former in the impeccable mixing of Ghostory. Perhaps as a direct consequence of this sibling reunion, the record instantaneously begins to assimilate to the atmospheric space-rock ambience of the gravely undervalued Ten Silver Drops as opener The Night blips into irradiate combustion. With Alejandra's vocals carefully layered and looped atop gloriously propulsive percussion and chunks of guitar that hurtle through its every empty space like the most lustrous of meteorites, all thoughts of her dear-departed sister disintegrate prior to Love Play, a track that unabashedly harks back to the warming chill of debut Alpinisms thus simultaneously sounding as if it were cryogenically frozen in the most beautiful of timeframes. Reappear reawakens The Weeknd's Wicked Games via The Fragile-era NIN; Low Times clunks to a more vibrant, disco-laced velocity via monosyllabic monastic chorus; and Show Me Love emulates '80s power balladry were it swirled and whipped up into some demonic blizzard hellbent on sweeping every contemporary under carpets of powdered rime. In its closing moments Ghostory fades out of focus a little – whether it be the unnecessarily obstreperous White Wind or the unusually expansive When You Sing – yet in Lafaye they've a single to deliquesce Rich Costey's heart, melt many a mind, and maybe a mountain. Maybe.
