Ghostplane explores a darker side

With a longing look at his beef panini, Achilles Botes carefully considers a response to his band Ghostplane being compared with the Phoenix Foundation.

"The Phoenix Foundation are good friends with Ghostplane, I guess," he says reluctantly, deciding to leave the snack until after the interview.

The bands used to share a practice space in Wellington but "we're definitely on different paths".

And, despite both bands sharing a love of weird, wonky and trippy pop, he says the Phoenix Foundation album, Pegasus, is different from Ghostplane's debut, Beneath the Sleepy Lagoon.

"But, I don't think a comparison to them is a bad thing," he smiles. "In a lot of ways they're breaking a lot of ground, which makes it easier for us to do what we're doing, so thanks Phoenix Foundation."

Beneath the Sleepy Lagoon has been more than a year-and-a-half in the making, and it shows - it has a huge depth that takes a lot of discovering. You don't know where songs like the stirring, and sometimes raunchy, Holy Mother are going to go next.

"I think we're into unexpected turns, kind of, more than dark music necessarily," says Botes. "We definitely like interesting angles and it's more of case of not trying to sound like anyone and it just kind of turned out the way it turned out. That's the best thing about it, it's the sound of us not trying to be anyone else."

Ghostplane - made up of Botes, Mark Dryburgh (guitars/vocals), Ash Harmer (bass/vocals), Andrew Grayson (drums), and Mike Scudder (keyboards/trombone) - formed out of Wellington popsters Dana Eclair.

When the band's singer left to go overseas the remaining members took a tiki tour in early 2002 to a remote hideout in the woods - near Levin, actually. As the story goes there was a stag's head on the wall, the cabin was rich with the smell of an open fire, they ate fine food, and recorded some songs.

Later that same year they returned for another recording session, which was the beginning of last year's excellent seven-track Ghostplane EP, Panther Valley Country Club. Ghostplane officially formed in mid 2003 and played their first gig to a full house at Wellington's Indigo Bar.

The difference between Dana Eclair and Ghostplane was a move from a poppy influence to - as the band name suggests - songs with darker themes. "And as a result the song structures are drawn out a bit more and the album, compared to the EP, is a lot more drawn out," says Botes.

"The EP, for us, was about clearing out these snappy, little songs. Although, we're already talking about the next album having more zap to it. With this one, conceptually it fits together, which is what we were going for - a package deal."

But despite the more meditative approach of the album, on songs such as High Sierra and Flash Photography that snappy, pop sensibility is still itching to get out. And let's face it Achilles, no nancying around the bush, people want immediacy in music nowadays? "I guess there is a lack of snappy singles, but ... " he says with a laugh, "hopefully there's something else there.

"The whole sort of package idea is what we're counting on to some degree. We are giving people a slab of music, with art work that ties into the music, and I like the idea of it being something that is complete. And we were pushing for a sense of mystery and hidden meanings and hidden depths."

And Ghostplane plumb these depths beautifully, making an intriguing, and at times, unnerving album that has a lot to do with the recording process. That process started off traditionally enough with the band having initial sessions in Auckland and then "pottering away" at Botes flat-cum-recording studio. "There was lots of re-recording ... and a year-and-a-half has gone by," he laughs.

The next step was co-producer Nick McGowan setting up a PA "in a big room" at his Island Bay recording studio. He then put the recordings the band had done through the PA and recorded the sound of the room. The effect: "A kind of room ambience that is all through the album and it creates a lushness, and a depth, I guess," says Botes.

The album also features guest appearances from Phoenix Foundation members Luke Buda, Will Rickets, and Con Wedde, Luke Benge from Inkling, Chris Yeabsley from Wellington jazz band Twinset, as well as Nick McGowan adding his own unique Moog and Hammond vibes.

"That's what I loved about the EP, all the guest players totally spiced things up and that was always going to happen, and that was the fun part of recording and that means there's less pressure on us personally.

"So we kind of left it open-ended in the arrangements, and let our imaginations roll with it in terms of instrumentation.

"We'd get [the guests] to record maybe four or five different things and we'd look at it and we'd arrangeit ourselves, like cut and paste it."

It sounds haphazard, but when the unexpected bleeps in Holy Mother sound out or the menacing Moog of Silver Culture comes through, it works.

"Like with Luke, we were always going to get him to do keyboards, and Will [a percussionist] was probably the most interesting because we had him for three hours - he had to go to school or something - and we just got him to play six things and he did pretty much first takes on everything."

Botes pauses and reflects: "We dropped our personal egos for this one and we were open to arrangements from other people [both inside and outside the band]. And we were quite conscious of not crowding each other or playing over each other. It's quite a sensitive album in that regard because we're conscious of what everyone else is doing."

But, as Botes munches into his beef panini, bought courtesy of the band's independent record label Arch Hill, you can tell he's just relieved to have the album out. "Because it's been quite stressful," he smiles.