Powdered Suits from Lantern Lilt by Ghastwick

This piece eases into a different kind of haunt, less about dread and more about the delicate weight of shared space. It’s where the persistent arps, often dry and close, find themselves cushioned by the warm, low breath of the contrabass clarinet. The signature footstep bus, rather than unsettling, here adopts a cradle-like sway, inviting you to fall into its rhythm. We deliberately pushed for a sense of social ritual, moving past initial resistance into something that tingles with tender, collective joy. The way the Lanternist's L-2 motif peeks out, almost shyly, then bows, speaks to that subtle shift. Listening closely, one hears the meticulous juxtaposition of glass chime interludes against the bowed vibraphone's shiver and the pump organ's softened pulse; these disparate elements contribute to a strange, comfortable friction. It’s a track that, when performed live, transforms the initial lurch of the waltz into a gentle current, where the audience feels shoulders brushing, the lantern glass scattering across faces, drawing everyone into a collective breath that still manages to prickle the skin. This felt like a natural evolution for us, a moment to explore how the archive’s deeper textures could be softened without losing their edge, translating the uncanny into something almost communal.

Old waltzes, a ghost of rhythm. Footsteps scrape, a chill finds your bones. A quiet, patient waiting.