I’m going to start by commenting on the title of Ghost Atlas’s latest album. All Is in Sync, and There’s Nothing Left to Sing About sounds like it should be The National’s version of a metal album. However, as brilliant as that would be, Ghost Atlas’s latest is not that: for one it lacks the level of emotional sensitivity and musical experimentation that I assume said hypothetical endeavour would have. I think the best way to describe All Is in Sync, and There’s Nothing Left to Sing About is generic heavy rock. To be honest, I’m not sure what else to have expected from a band that is also a side-project for Progressive Metal Core Band Erra’s, Jesse Cash. All is in Sync and There’s Nothing Left to Sing About’s saving grace is that it is a very well made.
Sonically, the album is immensely predictable. You have overdriven power chords with crisp lead guitar overlays. The drums provide a reliable backing rhythm but do little else and the vocals are shouted in the chorus. Cash avoids the screaming that is a hallmark of heavy rock. This something that I’m grateful for, as the songs lack the raw emotion to counteract something so potentially off putting. That Cash is also a guitarist is clear, as the instrument is leaned on heavily throughout the album. The main area that this album excels at is the guitar solos, of which the one in Cry Wolf is the best example. The sonic predictability of All is in Sync, and There’s Nothing Left to Sing About is further extended by the inclusion of an obligatory acoustic number in Scouts Honour.
The upshot of this is that there is nothing wrong with how the album sounds; I would even go as far as saying it sounds good. However, it reaches a level of predictability that means that it is never very memorable. Even after multiple listens the album evoked a sort of musical amnesia, that meant that I struggled to remember anything I’d listened to for its 44-minute run time.
In terms of lyrics the same problem emerges – nothing is particularly memorable. The lyrics are adequate but nothing special. The themes are all standard fare. You have nostalgia about adolescence, the equally nostalgic idea of being home, some bleak references to death and razors etc., and a focus on relationships. The saturation of cliché is epitomised in the intro to Legs, where sex in a car is referenced. At this point, rather ironically, there is nothing left to say about the lyrics. Under normal circumstances I would have more to say but All Is in Sync, and There’s Nothing Left to Sing About is unmemorable enough that I honestly can’t think of anything more to say about the lyrics.
The two words that best describe All Is in Sync, and There’s Nothing Left to Sing About are average and unmemorable. There is nothing that I would describe as explicitly bad, but there is also nothing especially brilliant either. I simply feel indifferent about it.
Instead of continuing to attempt to find my synonyms for unmemorable I am going to end this review by suggesting that if you want to listen to some better albums of a similar genre, Frank Carter & the Rattlesnake’s Modern Ruin, Sløtface’s Try Not to Freak Out, or Lonely the Brave’s Things Will Matter would be some options.