Learn to Lie: Ghost

Sit back.

Light the incense.

Smoke questionable substances.

Chill out.

At least that’s what I presume was on the ‘to do’ list of Midlands alt-rock group Learn To Lie when they began writing their 2018 EP: Ghost.

It’s hard to put your finger on what exactly they are as a quartet. Think... You Me at Six meets The Beatles meets Ravi Shankar. It’s not a great deal to go on, I know, but listen to the album with no prior context and you’ll understand where I’m coming from. Despite all of this, though, there is a clear direction to the four track EP, and it’s so unusually appealing.

There are clear opportunities to assuage a single genre in the short lived album, but it doesn’t feel like they ever do; they don't need to. Presumably they’re in the experimental phase of their musical development. So why not play around with sounds? It definitely works. Drawing inspiration from archetypal 60’s psychedelic rock - ref. Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band - Jake Regan’s cultivation of crisp and sophisticated high pitched vocals carries the EP. The rest of Learn To Lie is made up of a well rehearsed trio: Andy Burns on Guitar, Simon Tranter on Bass and Matt Jones on Drums. Each member brings a unique element of musicality to their sound, which is proven in the third track, Old Friend. Andy Burns brings the idea of psychedelia to the forefront, with the track beginning with a Ravi Shankar-esque Guitar solo (or at least what he would have sounded like had he played the Guitar) - motifs are enhanced by a reverb indubitably designed to send one on a trip. No one’s complaining though. What follows is an ambient demonstration of what ‘indie’ bands exactly aren’t. Off beat sequences from the Bass and Drums define how well written their musical ideas are.

No two songs are the same on the EP. The perfect juxtaposition to this is the opener, Down, positioned just two tracks before Old Friend. The EP starts with a white noise suspenseful crescendo. What could it be? A bird? A Plane? No. But it’s a strong, “fucking well tight” as one listener described it, ‘light rock’ number. What follows is an eclectic mix of experimental tracks that indeed beg the question, ‘why aren’t you signed yet?’ There’s even a song called Electric (see what I did there ;). Throughout the EP are perfect examples as to why the group indeed have promise, playing in complex time signatures (think Waltz) and precise moments of daylight, all of which contribute to an entertaining 17 minutes of music.

If genre ambiguity frustrates you, steer well clear of this EP. Otherwise, recommended.