The THIRD Night I Saw Ghost

It has been twenty-two days since I saw Ghost for the third time. And this time hit differently, for reasons which we will get into shortly. I traveled further than I did for my second ritual, this time going all the way to Pittsburgh, PA. I roped in yet another unsuspecting family member; this time, being my partner’s unsuspecting sister (for ease of storytelling purposes, she shall be my sister-in-law going forward). I had bought myself a red sequined bomber jacket to match Papa’s new red jacket he had acquired for the European leg of the Re-Impera Tour and really embraced my inner Goth Girl.

It was shaping up to be a wonderful time.

And then I got Covid for the second time. Coincidentally, just like I did before my second ritual. Though this time, it thankfully did not cut things quite as close as my second ritual did, nor did I get it from a coworker I despised. No idea where I’d picked it up, but for a few days, I was immensely worried that my trip would be in jeopardy. Thankfully, my symptoms remained relatively mild – no killer sore throat from hell this time, just a soul-sucking exhaustion and sinus congestion thicker than mashed potatoes – and I was better in time to keep my plans.

I even did a Ghost inspired manicure; turquoise glitter to match Papa’s original sequin jacket, and rainbow sparkles to mirror the feel of Dance Macabre.

The day I was supposed to fly out to Pittsburgh, I started getting nervous about the venue. I had seen nothing but horror stories online about parking. That if you were not capable of getting there HOURS early, good luck getting in on time. I could not fathom it, there is nothing in my hometown that has quite the same warning. I heard from a girl who’s cousin had arrived at the venue at 6:30pm, but due to the disasterous parking situation, she was not able to get inside the venue until 9pm. Even though 9pm is officially when Ghost takes the stage, I still did not want to feel as though I’d flown half-way across the country just to miss half of the show. So, I ended up splurging for Premium Parking.

After all the worry and anxiety, the day of we arrived at the venue with zero issue and with plenty of time to spare. My sister-in-law’s GPS took us on back roads through the countryside, and we did not see any traffic until we went to pull on to Star Lake grounds, and it was all coming from the opposite direction. We were able to wait out the rain (THAT time), enjoy our dinner, and just have a leisurely time of not feeling rushed.

My upset taco, because my dear mother-in-law, who prepped our dinner, forgot to pack us taco shells (and only packed us one spoon), which provided us with a good, hearty laugh for the rest of the evening.

Our entrance into Star Lake was almost as good as the time my mother and I’s tickets to Kevin Costner’s band were upgraded to front row ADA seating because she had hurt her ankle. My sister-in-law had called ahead to check if she could bring in her breast pump, considering it needed a cooler bag that could not fall into the “12 inches by 12 inches, clear bag” policy. She was told she could as long as it was registered with the EMS building when we arrived. So, after we finished our shell-less tacos (insert mad giggling here), we made our way over to the entrance. My sister-in-law flagged down someone that worked there, explained what we needed to do and asked where the EMS building was. He happily agreed to walk us over. Upon arrival, and a second explanation, it was clear the EMS building had no such thing to register a breast pump with and they seemed confused as to why it had even been suggested. As we then went back towards the entrance, the man who had walked us over was so flustered by the misinformation we had been given, and for the inconvenience it had caused us, he insisted on walking us over to and through security. Completely bypassing the line.

We were not inconvenienced, not in the least. All of this took place less than 50 yards from our car. I think the person that was the most inconvenienced was the man escorting us about, as he explained the situation to both the EMS people, and the ADA security line people.

But, after all that stress and worry about how getting into the venue would go, it literally could NOT have been easier. The only hiccup – other than the taco shells – was that literally no one asked to see proof that I had paid for the Premium Parking. Which, honestly, is probably part of the root of their problem with parking…

Once inside, shirts were bought, food smells were admired, and we started making our way towards our seats. As we had waited in line at the shirt hut, it had started to sprinkle and some rather aggressive storm clouds had rolled through, making all those waiting in line to let out nervous chuckles. The sky was taking on a greenish-hue, which I always find unsettling, let alone when I am stuck OUTSIDE. We laughed nervously and said “I’m sure it will be fine.” As we actually neared the Pavilion, a voice came over the loud speakers, inviting all lawn ticket holders to please make their way down into the Pavilion, in a calm and orderly fashion, as some bad weather was rolling in imminently.

So imminently, in fact, that the second the voice stopped, the skies opened, and it began to pour down rain. Needless to say, the lawn ticket holders no longer moved in a calm and orderly fashion. It was a straight up stampede of people, and our progress to our seats was essentially halted. By the time we arrived to them, I was soaked through.

Amon Amarth started promptly at 7:30. I knew little about them. They were Vikings. They played metal. There is one song where the people in the Pit sit down and row. At least one of those things was true. They were not dressed as Vikings, though they did have a couple of the guys in their crew dressed up and they came out twice to perform sword fights on stage, the last one not ending until they shattered one another’s wooden shields. They did play metal; the deep growly kind. And while the entire venue DID row along to “Put Your Back Into The Oar”, I could not tell if people in the Pit actually sat on the floor to do so, or if they were rogue standing rowers.

As you can see, as a short person, I lost most my view of the stage to the heads in front of me.

There was a lot to absorb with Amon Amarth. There were the afore mentioned Vikings that battled on stage. Loki was there – and no, not the Marvel version. A sea serpent arrived. The lead singer had an epic battle, armed with Mjolnir (Thor’s hammer) nonetheless to defeat said serpent.

His tail was on the far side of the stage

Before writing this, I gave Amon Amarth a little Google to see what I could learn about them other than they are Swedish and most of their songs are about Norse Mythology (a thing which means even though the music is not my jam, I dig what it’s about, so I like it). They refer to themselves as melodic death metal, not Viking Metal. Their name comes from the Sindarin name of Mount Doom, the volcano in Mordor, from J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle-earth. Apparently their frontman, Johan Hegg, is known for his 35cm beard. And in my diving into the Amon Amarth realm, I found this great quote from their frontman in his interview with Metal Web:

We play death metal. We write about Vikings so, therefore, some refer us to Viking metal, but I have no idea what that is. I can’t imagine the Vikings were into metal at all except for the swords and stuff. And musically, I guess they only played these strange lip instruments and some bongos or whatever.
The Metal Web’s Interview with Johan Hegg

Once the serpent was defeated, the lights came back up, and the stage began preparations for Ghost. My sister-in-law got great amusement out of the curtain coming down over the stage as they worked. She leaned over to me, whispering “Is that meant to be hiding them from us??” To which I said “Yeah, it doesn’t work so well from the side.”

Stage prep

While we waited, the Star Lake personnel had the tricky task of getting the people with lawn tickets back out to the lawn and out of the Pavilion, where they had been allowed to fill the aisles and some seats in the storm. It was still raining pretty hardily. At one point, they made it clear that Ghost would not be able to start on time if people did not get back to their paid ticket areas, and that finally seemed to get people moving.

Ghost started promptly at 9:00pm, with the recording of “Imperium” being played over the speakers as the lights went down (the playing of “Imperium” at shows like this always sends chills down my spine, it is such an underrated piece of instrumental music). As the curtain was dropped, the first shrill notes of “Kaisarion” rang out, just like they did the last two times I saw them. And because they go so well together, “Kairsarion” rolled straight into “Rats”, just as it always has. “From The Pinnacle To The Pit” made it’s triumphant return to the line-up, reclaiming it’s number three position.

Papa Perfection in his new gold jacket

“Spillways” continued it’s place at number four, before giving way to the instrumental “Devil Church” while Papa changed into his bat wings for “Cirice”. I adore the song “Cirice”, but watching Papa find that person that calls to him in the audience and sing to what feels like only them, is truly magical. I think I would die on the spot if that were ever me.

Spooky Papa

After “Cirice” came “Absolution”, my first time hearing this one live, and it was mesmerizing. “Ritual” returned in the eighth spot, followed by “Call Me Little Sunshine.” “Con Clavi Con Dio” followed, with “Watcher In The Sky” on it’s heels. Which, in retrospect feels like an odd one to lead into “Year Zero.”

Hail Satan. I mean, Papa. Hail Papa.

The instrumental “Spöksonat” picked back up so Papa could go change before “He Is”. Then it was time for another instrumental, “Miasma”, which again saw the resurrection of Papa Nihil and his infamous saxophone. This one always hits a little harder, because it’s when I realize we’re in the home stretch, that there are not many songs left before the night ultimately comes to an end. And I have said after my other Rituals, that I would gladly sit and watch Ghost perform every song in their ability and it would still not be enough.

“Mary On A Cross” was next, and the two pair of younger girls my sister-in-law and I were sandwiched between absolutely lost their minds. “Mummy Dust” followed, and it does things. If you know, you know. It saw – what would prove to be – our one and only explosion of confetti for the evening.

I’ll smother you in riches

The boisterous “Mummy Dust” gave way to the beautifully melancholy “Respite On The Spitalfields.” Hands down, my favorite Ghost song. The soaring instrumentals at the two-minute mark get me every time. And seeing it live sent chills down my spine. There was a moment during “Respite” when I looked over to my left, to the portion of the sky that was exposed beneath the Pavilion’s roof and the surrounding buildings, and it was solid chain lightning. Even though the rain had been blowing in on us still, I had somewhat forgotten it was still storming. And there were still bats flying through the Pavilion. Yes. Actual bats. It was without a doubt the most atmospheric Ghost performance I have ever seen.

Long before I was ready, and we’ll be honest, I would never be ready, “Respite On The Spitalfields” finished. The lights went all the way down. The long wait for the encore began. And then Papa came back out, in his new red sequin jacket. We finally matched. He started his stint of “What are you all still doing here? What do I have to do to get you to go the f- home? Play one more song? Alright, we’ll play three more. Then it’s done. You gotta go then.”

Except he didn’t.

This time it was different.

He was telling us the venue wasn’t letting them perform their encore. They were pulling the plug. Papa told us that Star Lake had not really wanted the show to go on in the first place. He had strong-armed his way before, but it wasn’t going to happen again. We legitimately had to leave, the weather was too bad. It felt so surreal. Everyone felt the same, because for the longest time, no one moved. It was just Papa ineffectively waving his arms at us all to shoo. Looking back, Star Lake did not do him any favors, they should have turned the lights on. When he finally said the words “I wanted to come out and tell you all in person”, it finally seemed to sink in to people that this was real. We weren’t getting “Kiss The Go-Goat.” Nor “Dance Macabre”, no living in a rainbow was to be had. No “Square Hammer”. And I think the reason it doesn’t quite feel like the first two times I saw them, there was no Emmylou Harris’ “Sorrow In The Wind” to close it out.

The trek back out saw us getting soaked once more. It had honestly seemed as though I had just dried off. The crowd was full of people with mixed feelings. Some were elated by the show. Some were devastated at the cancellation of the encore. I had gotten their encore twice before, so I didn’t feel completely jipped. Though, the encore is comprised of two of my favorite Ghost songs. And I was disappointed my sister-in-law didn’t get to experience “Dance Macabre” and “Square Hammer.”

The walk back to the car was quick, and paying for the Premium Parking did come in handy getting out. Our little lot area had it’s own designated exit lane, so we just had to deal with the usual idiotic people that refuse to wait in any sort of line. And just like that, it was all so unceremoniously over.

Looking back, one of my favorite moments of the show was looking down to the end of our row where a mom was sitting with her two teenaged daughters (or teenage daughter and her friend). The two girls were bedecked in black and white face paint, completely lost in the music, and the mom was videoing them with the biggest grin on her face. The girls were lost in the music, having the times of their lives, and she was lost in their joy. It’s parents like that that make the world so much brighter. Going to a thing with their kids, a weird thing that is not their jam in the least. But they still go and have a great time because their kid is so dang happy. I wish I could have gotten a photo of that moment, because it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.

And now, the obligatory Ghost post-Ritual photo dump. You will notice it is significantly smaller than my second Ritual’s. My phone battery was not up to snuff for this one, fitting since I upgraded my phone camera significantly.