Radical Face

Creaking floorboards, chirping birds, and stirred wind chimes are all important bit players in Ghost, a sensitive but unaffected record from singer/songwriter Ben Cooper that rates as one of the top surprises of 2007's first quarter.

Aside from the field recordings, Cooper (one-half of Electric President, an electro-pop band also on Morr) essentially had no outside help in crafting his cinematic meditation on houses that retain fragments of their previous occupants—the handclaps and even the high-pitched harmony vocals are his own. The lead vocals, often on the verge of a whisper or croak, are well-suited for Cooper's confessional yet ultimately inscrutable lyrics.

Despite the DIY approach, Ghost is given full orchestral life, encompassing memorably melancholy (but poppy) string arrangements, peppy lo-fi Americana, and—on a rare but effective occasion ("Glory")—a post-rock crescendo that would be right at home on an album by Explosions in the Sky or Mono.

Ghost contains a handful of gems, and is perhaps best embodied by the gripping "Welcome Home," which begins with all the melodic prettiness of a good Badly Drawn Boy song, but quickly blossoms into indie-pop of a quirkier and more potent nature.

- Adam McKibbin
03.15.07

Ben Cooper has a few names he works under; as Radical Face, he creates an album that's possibly one of the best debut takes on whatever the word Americana is supposed to represent in the 21st century. But instead of dour re-creations of music that even Uncle Tupelo would have rejected, Ghost is something that lives up to its name -- a strange, murky presence that sometimes is not entirely there, but in the best, most suggestive way. Cooper's singing is understated but sweetly calming, a gentle glaze that recalls the not-quite-shoegaze of many early-'90s U.S. acts that rejected grunge and lo-fi for another approach. Meanwhile, the music is equally cool but hardly cold, a carefully detailed combination of instrumentation that lightly references everything from late-'60s Beach Boys to late-'90s Mogwai in its cinematic scope -- banjos sit well against building drums, strings suddenly appear to add piercing emphasis, and there's a definite hint here and there of Dave Fridmann's full-on widescreen production style on songs like "Glory." Yet even more strikingly, there's a real joy that suffuses much of the record, as can be heard on the chorus of "Welcome Home." After so much post-Polyphonic Spree "uplifting" chorale hash infesting NPR-ized rock & roll, the gentle but still exultant beauty here is something special, a blend of vocals, banjo, handclaps and piano that sounds all the better for being a carefully arranged collage. The album's downside is a certain sameness in sound that gets the better of it toward the end -- some songs like "Along the Road" would almost work better separately than in context as a result -- but Ghost is a promising start for Cooper's latest incarnation. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide