Ghost Dance

On Halloween day, Thursday October 31st, Ghost Dance will be hosting the 3rd Annual Ghost Dance Family Freak Fest at The Outland. Doors are at 8 and music starts at 9 – tickets for the event are $5.
998744 10152001945129187 772309243 n 227x300 3rd Annual Ghost Dance Family Freak Fest at The Outland
The 3rd annual Outland Halloween bash will host Brother Andy & His Big Damn Mouth, The Gorlons, and The Casey Jack Band before Ghost Dance takes the stage to headline the event.
You may have to miss out on trick-or-treating for the evening, but this show is sure to be a treat all of its own.
Ghost Dance recently released their debut, self-titled album and will be returning to Springfield on Halloween after a recent tour promoting the album.
Ghost Dance, formerly of Jeffrey Drag Records, released their album under Rough Beast Records, and the album is definitely a rough beast.
You can check out TAG’s review of the album or stream the album here.
This show is sure to be a party so dress up in your gnarliest costume and come celebrate the devil’s holiday with some of SGF’s best rock outfits.
Check out these links for more information on the event, Ghost Dance, and Rough Beast Records.
To listen to Ghost Dance tunes before the night of ghosts and ghouls, check out the band’s reverbnation site. - TAG SGF

Ghost Dance's self-titled debut album is the first record released on Rough Beast, and I gotta say this label is off to a hell of a good start. Being a desert rat myself, I'm a sucker for these wild West psyched out type bands. What I especially dig about this band though is that they don't play it safe and stick to that fuzzy, garage sound. The third track, Nasty Nueve, has a really fast tempo, thrashy blasting drums, face-melting riffs, banshee screaming vocals, finishing with some layered noise effects that make you feel like you're inside of a hurricane. It's definitely a song I would listen to if I were in a high-speed desert chase trying to escape from some desert ghosts and find my way into a Tarintino movie set. The album is mixed really well too in the sense that you're not sticking from the same tempo from song to song. Track 4, It Tasted Good, slows things down a bit but in a more drudgey, droney kinda sense. Towards the end of the album, there are some tracks that are even kinda Danzig-esque. A lot of variety, so really if you're looking for anything along the lines of "psychedelic", "desert", "garage", "stoner', "things that remind me of Danzig even though a lot of the time Danzig sucks", I'd recommend this to you. Worth plentiful amount of spins - KAMP Radio

If the up-tempo energy and vocals of Danzig, the dark, riff-heavy songwriting of Sabbath, and the haunting falsetto of Josh Homme miraculously had a three-way lovechild in the Ozark Hills, it may have sounded something like Ghost Dance.
In order to truly do this self-titled debut album, and yourself, justice, turn your record player as loud as it will go and pour yourself a shot of whiskey before listening. The A-side kicks off with the high-pitched guitar wails of Howlin, a proper introduction to Ghost Dance’s tame(r) side that showcases all of the lovechild attributes except for a speedy tempo. Don’t fret, the tempo gradually continues upward through the curmudgeon stomp of a track, Spazz, and races into oblivion during Nasty Nuevo. As quickly as the storm erupts during Nasty Nuevo, it subsides and makes way for a touch of fuzzy sludge: It Tasted Good. 1385320 10151746611728401 854606449 n 225x300 ALBUM REVIEW: Ghost Dances Self Titled Debut The constant thrashing snare of Reptar wastes no time reawakening the listener before the A-side finale, Honky, ends with a cut-time riff that seems to soar into the realm of the spirits.
Pour yourself another shot; the B-side immediately picks up the energy from Honky with Hacksaw. The B-side opener is anything but a misnomer and kicks off with one of the biggest riffs of the album. 10,000,000 B.C. is next in line and transitions from high-tempo chaos to a breakdown that might almost come as a shock to someone who had never given Ghost Dance a prior listen before speeding off again into Prison, Bitch – the equivalent of shifting gears and accelerating into a brick wall. This track begins with a single guitar and a rhythm that continues for the better part of the song’s 4:51 duration. The track is reduced to a tom pattern that seems as if it may have ceased the previously constant drive of the track before the break builds back into a new take on the original rhythm.
Hacksaw may have one of the biggest riffs of the album, but it’s hard to rank a riff heavier than the one that introduces Smoke. Smoke is so heavy that by the time the track concludes the weight of the riff has dragged all notions of time into a bloody, bludgeoned abyss. Once you arrive in the abyss, Tiger’s Blood is the theme for Hell’s jesters. Feel free to prance and scream. The album concludes with Short Jeans: a taste of twang with a chorus that is reminiscent of a drunkenly slurred, bar-wide, honky-tonk chant. You may feel like you need a nap after listening to this album. - TAG SGF

Despite their often cramped quarters, limited visibility and sub-pro sound, the cons of the record store as venue are frequently offset by sheer ambiance. How can you not feel good about seeing a few bands when pop music’s greats are leering at you from every corner, or when you can’t move a muscle without grazing what might be your new or old favorite record? It also doesn’t hurt when there’s a couple of kegs sitting behind the counter. Either way you cut it, The Groove was a choice spot to see a couple of choice bands Friday night, courtesy of Jeffery Drag Records.

We were three complimentary cups in before opening act Don’t Forget Your Dinosaur kicked off the show. Converging a reverb-drenched, full-throttle surf-rock shred a la Man or Astroman? with juiced-up blues-rock and never wasting a moment between songs, the Shreveport power trio came through with a full-flavored onslaught we could easily just call “punk” and feel fine about it. Following closely after was The Electric Dollhouse Groove Buggy, who share not only the same hometown, but also a few band members as well, and who kept their bayou-base front and center with bluesy swamp-stomp punk jams that may or may not have been about alligators. We couldn’t tell, but we're perfectly happy assuming they were.

Has The Groove has gotten roomier, or did just the right amount of people bother to show up? That can’t be ascertained on our foggy recollection alone. We just remember there being plenty of room to see the stage, hear the bands, chat with a friend, snag a beer and reach the bathroom with very few impediments. And next up was Nashville’s own Fancytramp, who’ve become a slightly rarer treat as of late, having spent a good bit of 2012 in the studio and on the road. The ‘Tramps sound a little tighter and look a smidge more glamorous each time we catch them, and their fuzz-laiden grrrl grunge thumps our '90s soft spot in all the right places.

Speaking of grunge, Springfield’s Ghost Dance — a flagship spectacle on Jeffery Drag’s promising roster — followed up appropriately with a set of distinctly Southern, lumbering stoner-psych. The band occasionally tightens the slack into a garage-stomp frenzy, but our beer buzz fancied their sludgier grooves slightly more.

The Spin’s stubby fingers spent more than their share of 2012 pecking away descriptions of Fly Golden Eagle’s sweetly tempered fusion of paisley punk and blue-eyed soul into our word-processing machines, and there isn’t much more praise we can spew on that lot without risking infringement on our previous rants. Rather, we’ll say it was a pleasant soundtrack to record browsing and bin-side chats on an evening that ended all too early. - Nashville Scene

The 32nd annual CMJ New Music Marathon has officially descended on New York City, bringing its usual swarm of buzz, bloggers, bands, and laminated badges. Somewhere in the 1,300 artists playing this year there's the next Sleigh Bells, Surfer Blood, or Gotye — someone with a silly name that you're going to see written on the Internet a lot. To help prepare yourself, here's a massive zip drive of 46 up-and-comers: from gnashing of-the-moment indie rockers (Diiv, Merchandise) to rising rappers (LEP Bogus Boys, Mr. MFN eXquire) to fashionable buzz-binners (Poolside, Sky Ferreira) to whatever "galactic electro yacht" is (New York's own Chrome Canyon). Stuff your Nano now, brag that you were there later! - SPIN

Last month, Nashville label Jeffery Drag unveiled "Big City," a scorching thrasher from Music City post-punks Western Medication. Now the label has put together a rough 'n' ready winter mixtape containing demos and unreleased material from Jack White-approved garage-punk Pujol, likeminded Jay Reatard torch-carriers Useless Eaters, Western Medication, and a whole bunch more. Listen below, and start buying cheap beer for a chaotic holiday party in someone's basement. - SPIN

Jawdropping new cassette-only release from all around badass Nashville label Jeffery Drag. Ghost Dance, from small town Missouri are captured here spitting blood and starting fires in the infamous confines of underground Nashy venue, Mt Swag.
First in the set is the straight ahead rock high-kick, “Fever Queen”, a balls deep guitar laden attack that touches Hendrix ’s “All Along the Watchtower” for good luck before driving it off the edge of insanity. This tour-tight band busts the next jam in your face, “Spazzzzzz” that loops a trippy slide guitar over hypnotic chugging riffs and the vocals howl and snarl, reaching that nasty plateau of garage brilliance I’ve mostly heard in Euro bands like The Monsters. Man, Ghost Dance is killing it by now, you can feel the walls getting sweaty and the swaying of moshing, charged up kids right through the mix! The on the topical “Tiger’s Blood”, they twist a demented four note riff right off the edge of the cliff before keepin ‘er easy with a chiller tempo of hypnopsych like 90s era Flaming Lips, “It Tasted Good” gives way to the full charge again on penultimate set closer “Reptar”. The final tune on this awesome little tape starts off comically with a bit of cel-phone interference and drops some high-speed garage punk doowop, which gallops to an upbeat trib to the grease-punks sound of 60 years ago.
Apparently some studio tunes are being cooked up as we speak and we may be treated to a 7” later this year. While we wait for that nugget, we got Live at Mt Swag: Vol 2 to rock the party, a moment of raw unadorned basement garage punk perfection wrestled to the ground like a beast and trapped on cassette. - Big Takeover