By Storm - My Ghosts Go Ghost (2026)
it's all brand new - february 2, 2026
Last year, my older brother died. I was torn to shreds. He was a guide for me, always encouraging me to find more of myself to be. He fucked up a lot, but he fought a lot to live life the way he wanted to. Losing him drove a spike through my chest. It was afterwards when I learned that, process it all you want, that grief never goes away.
It really fucking sticks to you, man. You know that you’ve still got your obligations and that you still have to grow and change, but your head is still trapped in the open void in your life. It feels like your thoughts are stuck in space, floating listlessly in zero-G. You always second guess if you’re grieving properly or not. If it’s okay that you feel selfish, if it’s okay that you really do need that extra bit of contact, if it’s okay that you feel like a bit more of a burden, because I know I’ve put a lot on you lately but fuck I really do need it right now. It doesn’t get easier. You just learn to figure out if this time is going to just be a deep sigh and an “oh, right,” or if you’re gonna get keeled over. I can’t pretend to perfectly understand the suffering that By Storm, the group formerly known as Injury Reserve, has been through, of course. Still, I can’t help but hear the long process of pain and healing resonating in My Ghosts Go Ghost.
Ghost is a deeply haunted album. The trauma that dominates it spikes in different ways and at different times. It’s a continuation of the shock and grief that broke into the recording of By the Time I Get to Phoenix with Stepa J. Groggs’ passing, only with five years’ worth of processing and festering. Phoenix itself barges in at times- the insane highlight “Double Trio 2” is ensnared between the two albums, with “Bye Storm” and “Knees” re-emerging in its hooks. The album gets caught looking back every time it tries to look forward. It’s the denial of lasting trauma on “Dead Weight.” It’s the stubborn, selfish love even in the face of oncoming fatherhood on “Can I Have You For Myself.” It’s the realization that you’ve still gotta struggle to live, only with that emptiness carried with you.
On “GGG,” the closer, it comes into the fore as the ghost that you really wish wasn’t there. It’s the type that you can only ever see out of the corner of your eye. You know who it is, and goddamnit, you miss them badly, but you can never summon them to start to untangle any of the mess left behind. They can never cross that veil no matter how hard you try, how hard you wish you could reject reality. It’s a devastating realization that you never get used to, no matter how many times you have to have it. You’re left as a broken thing, always wishing you could go back in time. And then the ghost vanishes again.
For the size of the black hole looming behind it, Ghost sparkles like a constellation. Floaty guitar passages lull you in before crunchy, thudding drum patterns stamp you down and waves of static wash you back out again. It’s no less freaky than their previous projects, but it’s damn near gorgeous. It works well to express a different stage of grief than the abrasiveness of Phoenix—the claustrophobia and panic is gone, and what’s left is a deep, depressive ambiance. It’s less fragmented and more wildly expansive. The way a track like “In My Town” lets you just ruminate in that shit is hypnotic. It fills your head, flushing out everything else with a low end as deep as the ocean. For the stress described within, it can pull you deep under with shocking ease.
Of course… I keep returning to “And I Dance.” The last single, nestled right near the end, feels like the one time the veil of grief is truly broken, if for just a moment. All that weight gets sloughed off for the ability to just… dance. It has a big, bright smile on its face as its feedback roars. It sounds like walking up to the best club in the afterlife, twirling synths and drones and that ever-plodding percussion slamming in and out of focus. The track gets so loud, so exuberant, that it collapses right in on itself and cuts out completely. It’s a shame it can’t last forever, but it’s the outright happiest either project has been in a long, long time. It’s pure catharsis, a true release, an actual fucking escape that’s been sorely needed for so, so long. I cannot let go of it for the life of me.
Last year, my older brother died. It was sudden and unexpected. It tore me apart and left me scattered. I was still scattered when I finished writing the eulogy, when I flew back from his funeral, and when my mind drifted onto him every time afterwards. I still haven’t fully managed to pull myself back together. I don’t know if I ever can. Still, it pulled me closer to those I still had, and, slowly, let me learn to enjoy more. To hold on for one more moment. To get myself lost in bliss. There’s times to mourn, and I’ll keep a space for him in my heart forever, but mourning forever isn’t that great a life. Joy has to creep in somewhere. I’ve learned to live. I’ve taken more photos. I’ve partied harder. I’ve loved more.
And I dance.
go forth dragon slayer