Ghostcar is not a band. It is a collection of musicians from different backgrounds who come together on occasion to interpret their environment through the filters of their own lives and personal experiences. The music they create is completely improvised yet not anarchist. It is more of a democratic, spontaneous composition. Pulling from the genres of jazz, hip hop, punk rock, ambient, latin and funk, Ghostcar constructs a totaly unique sound of its own.

Trumpet player, Karl "Gabriel" Poetschke has gone full out electric with influences ranging from electric era Miles Davis to the rich melodic soundscape of British shoe-gaze rockers Swirvedriver, My Bloody Valentine and early Mercury Rev.

The wheels of Ghostcar that keep the sonic vehicle moving forward are the solid bass lines from veteran bass player Chris Perdue, who's catchy, melodic and hypnotic bass lines provide the anchor for the bands sonic explorations.

The engine in the band is undoubtedly the energetic and constantly morphing drum rhythms of the locally infamous and highly sought after drummer Clay Stinnett.

But this sonic auto would not sparkle without the body and trim of the band, Daniel Huffman. Huffman's approach to sound scape painting through his guitar and assorted gadgets wraps the entire sound of Ghostcar in ambient poetry, blowing the horizons outwards into space and beyond.

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Too Strong/The Art of Transition Cd review
 

Dallas Observer 10/19/2006

by Michael Chamy

Ghostcar is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Priding themselves on the fleeting nature of their "sightings," the inevitable cycle for this longtime local cosmic jazz juggernaut is a short string of mind-blowing performances, only to disappear from sight. No sooner had the improvisational troupe emerged this summer with a fiery row of shows celebrating their long-awaited first proper studio album then esteemed trumpet player/spiritual wizard Karl Poetschke headed to Colorado to dig for gold. Literally. Previous wild hairs have taken him through Central America and on ships sailing around the world. Fitting, because Ghostcar is, in essence, all about the musical journey. Inspired by the intersection of virtuosity and creative fire of Miles Davis' Bitches Brew electric era, Ghostcar has used a similar musical toolbox, most notably Poetschke's reverberated trumpet. There are several differences, but it's remarkable how close Ghostcar comes to achieving the unique vitality of that particular moment of musical perfection. Then again, the minute you cue up Too Strong/The Art of Transition, the fast-moving assault of drummer Clay Stinnett shows this sound to be as physical and energetic as it is cerebral and imaginative. As opener "Too Strong" unfolds, guitarist Daniel Huffman brings the cosmic funk behind bassist Chris Purdue's steady and seductive anchorings and the blurry smoke of Poetschke's ethereal trumpet. The peaks and valleys are so natural that the logic of the band's approach becomes perfectly clear. How could composing these pieces in advance ever match the spark and true flow of the group's all-live, no-overdub purist improvisational aesthetic? Only in this environment do you get the flat-out genius of a wailing solo from Huffman near the end of title track "Too Strong," heralding a sickly intense conclusion, or Poetschke's melodic, deep indigo solo on "Andante a La Disco," bringing the album's most uplifting and catchy stomp to a tender, thoughtful and unexpectedly brilliant conclusion. Too Strong's colorful odyssey veers from steam-engine stomp and shamanic flute virtuosity to subtle textural mastery, embellished by vibes, keys and feedback. Yet no matter how strongly I could urge you to track down this album--easily the year's best among locals--there is still no substitute for the live experience, where Ghostcar once again builds their sonic empire entirely from the ground up.

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Ghostcar

FT.Wort Weekly 1/10/07

By Justin Press

Blending some of the finest players from some of North Texas’ most formidable — and departed — bands, Ghostcar is an achievement of out-of-the-box experimentation. The group dabbles in body-moving groove as well as Latin rock, jazz fusion, 4/4-drumming, and Chicago noise (see Touch & Go Records). Players piggyback on one another’s riffage, creating a sound more akin to the progressive movement that began in the ’70s than anything from the scatterbrained oughties.

With three albums under its belt, including the heralded debut, Too Strong/Art of Transition, Ghostcar pays homage to the past in the most splendid ways. “Woo” pulls from the bottom-end boogie of vintage Girls Vs. Boys — the bass soars in full flourish and drives home a concentrated beat that has a hallucinogenic vibe. And a track like “Dixie Cup” takes the street language of Willie Lobo and melds it with Blue Note-era Miles Davis — squealing high-pitched brass tones flitter across a canvas of San Francisco-bred Latin fusion rock. All of this aural imagery might be staggering if it didn’t fit together like an electric puzzle.

In a live setting, Ghostcar can more effectively conjure what often sounds like the bastard child of space rock and disco. Seeing the outfit live is like walking through a David Lynch movie.

Ghostcar will be joined on an upcoming show by Fort Worth’s Stumptone, and there’s no doubt that both bands go to the same pharmacist, though Stumptone’s dosages are much less severe. Like a long ride through the desert in a muscle van, Stumptone may get you stoned without throwing any rawks. It’s still all good.

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OBSERVERS 

Dallas Observer 1/13/2004

by Michael Chamy

Sometime during the dizzying barrage of roars, moans and pterodactyl groans spraying from the Wreck Room stage, I remembered what Ghostcar guitarist Daniel Huffman told me before the show about trumpet player Karl Poetschke. "Karl is kind of elusive. Karl lives on a boat, or sometimes out in the desert."

Poetschke, a North Texas space-jazz veteran of Sivad, Mazinga Phazer and Stumptone, certainly plays like he's on a boat or (mostly) out in the desert. He runs his miked trumpet through an array of effects, conjuring chilling voices from a desert canyon at the dead of midnight. Poetschke is the secret weapon of Ghostcar, an all-improved ensemble so potent they don't even need one.

On this Saturday night in Fort Worth, Ghostcar was a clinic, and drummer Claydo Stinnett was the chief practitioner. His ridiculously deft touch with cymbals and snare formed the backbone for a well-oiled wall of sound. Huffman, late of the classic Comet lineup, alternated between cosmic funk and flights of sonic fancy. Up to seven players jumped on and off the stage, underscoring the anything-goes nature of this free-flowing exhibition.

Pockets of contemplative or trippy lull gave way to sudden energy bursts, as Stinnett's upbeat lock-groove rose up on the wings of a blissful drone. Think Neu! if you're familiar with '70s avant-rock--and think Stereolab if you're not. Then Poetschke chimes in with his Tweety Bird-on-phenobarb shrill and blows the whole thing to smithereens. Pick your poison: rapid-fire snares like the clicks of a New Year's noisemaker, a cartoonish giddy-up beat behind Emergency Broadcast feedback, a vomiting frog in rhythm...Then the dust settles into a shakin' Afrobeat groove, cheers erupting from the entranced gawkers lurching in the Wreck Room's rear area.

If this is par for Ghostcar, then put me down for shotgun on this trip through the foggy, dissipating night.

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Caspers' Corolla

hearsay: Ft.Worth Weekly

The musicians who make up Ghostcar are free-heads who've learned that breaking the bonds of linearism requires no concessions to people on acid just looking for trip soundtracks. A somber muted trumpet that ebbs and flows in ripples, a heavy electric bass, twinkling percussion instruments — these potentially wily, unruly phenomena patiently conform to the group's pseudo-loosey-goosey, vastly accessible sonic blueprints. What with this band's willingness to create moods as contemplative as love or loss and sheer talent for evoking quietude through music, Ghostcar is a quartet of artful improvisationists. The only trip you'll be taking while listening to their performance this Saturday at the Black Dog Tavern is from tension to release and then back again. Keep your illicit means of mental transport at home, please.

Ghostcar's latest work, the easter sunday ep (which, like all Ghostcar c.d.'s, comes packaged in its own unique artwork, courtesy of the bandmembers), is a great introduction to the band and a great representative work of musicians who are able to marshal their talents to create non-linear music that actually swings. Whatever you do, don't call it "noisy" — it's more like hard bop as seen through a prism of P-Funk's flash, David Lynch's camera, and William Burroughs' typewriter. The disc moves from unhurried solemnity to nervous noir to euphoria all within the span of a few minutes. This is very private, very introspective music that one could imagine openhearted jazz fans could easily become attached to. Black Dog regulars who also double as Ghostcar appreciators will surely welcome the return of one of Fort Worth-Dallas' most inspiring outfits.

The reason it's been so long since Ghostcar's last Black Dog gig is that trumpeter Karl Poetschke has been away on business. If there's one thing — other than making non-popular music — that has kept the band from building a solid following around the Metroplex it's ... the band itself. Having gone through more permutations than a chameleon on a Pollack while also having aligned themselves with national acts like Low and Him has limited the band to only a few gigs in mainstream venues around town. The good news is that (a) there finally seems to be some stability in the line-up, a roster that also includes Clay Stinnett, Chris Perdue, and Daniel Huffman, and (b) these guys will be performing here this weekend. Catch them while you can. If you can.

Contact HearSay at hearsay@fwweekly.com.

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Free Time

Ft.Worth Weekly

The improv musicians behind Ghostcar are so damn good they're bad for one another.

By KEN SHIMAMOTO

Juitarist Daniel Huffman of the improvisational band Ghostcar recently had a musician's dream gig: touring with the Flaming Lips as a roadie and auxiliary musician. "I tried explaining to them what we do, and they couldn't believe it. 'You mean you go onstage without any songs worked out? No chord changes?' I was surprised at how rigidly structured their music was — everything had to be just like the record. With all the pre-recorded tapes they use, it was almost like a karaoke show."

The four sonic tightrope walkers that make up Ghostcar are nothing if not musically courageous. Their music starts with their knowledge of their instruments and of one another and develops spontaneously as they listen and respond to one another's creations. The band just released a c.d. of the music they performed for James M. Johnston's film Mere Acquaintance.

One Saturday in February at the Black Dog Tavern, they set up in a circle, facing one another. Bandleader Karl Poetschke ran his trumpet and flugelhorn through an Echoplex, darting in and out of the music with his dark, lyrical inventions. Huffman wore a cat mask and sat in front of a battery of stompboxes, creating ethereal, atmospheric washes of texture, triggering samples, and even playing a little Casio keyboard. Bassist Chris Perdue anchored the music with hypnotic repeating figures and the occasional solo, locking it in the pocket while drummer Clay Stinnette shifted from totally free time to slamming punk beats to pulsing polyrhythmic flights.

Stinnette's a show in himself, attacking his traps with energy and abandon. He switches from sticks to brushes at will, beats on his hardware and other assorted oddities, including a hubcap, a trashcan, and a small cymbal that he inverts and places on top of his snare. He wets his fingers and rubs them on drum heads and hardware, and sometimes dons a Mexican wrestling mask. He occasionally drops a beat, but it works — he's taking chances. Besides Ghostcar (which he considers "more an experiment than a band"), Stinnette divides his time among five other projects, including History At Our Disposal and The Def.

The proximate models for Ghostcar music are '70s-era Miles Davis and some of the more ambient releases from that decade on the ECM label. But the band really sounds like nobody else. "Improvisational music is challenging, because you have to know your axe well enough to be able to participate in the conversation," said Poetschke. "Listening is important. Silence and space are important, too — every player doesn't need to participate in every conversation."

Before Ghostcar, Poetschke, Perdue, and Huffman all played in Sivad, a band Poetschke formed with bassist (later guitarist) Tony Chapman and drummer Quincy Holloway in 1990. Sivad released a c.d., Solar Verbs, before folding in 1999. Ghostcar evolved out of a Huffman recording project. When the guitarist wanted to perform live, he recruited Poetschke, Chapman, Jason Reimer on piano, and Scott Fielle on drums to fill a slow Sunday night slot on the patio at Dallas' X-po Lounge.

By the time Reimer and Fielle left to work on their own projects, Stinnette had already introduced himself to Chapman over lunch at Milano's on West Seventh Street and expressed interest in the band. Perdue stepped in when Chapman moved to Italy to work on the European space program. As Poetschke explains it, "Now we've got Daniel, a space-rock guitarist that used to be in Comet; Chris, a beautiful soul-funk bass player; and Clay, a punk-rock drummer."

Huffman and Stinnette are both UNT-trained visual artists who bring that sensibility to their playing. Their work decorates Ghostcar's c.d.'s, the covers of which are handmade by bandmembers and feature a random selection of live material, so each disc provides an individualized experience. In fact, the name Ghostcar came from the title of a Huffman painting that appeared on Sivad's c.d. cover. "Our music reflects our personalities, just like our painting," said Huffman.

Poetschke is a thoughtful man filled with self-deprecating humor who's worked on cruise ships, studied in a Buddhist ashram, and spent time in the desert with Native American shamans. While still in Sivad, he participated in Good/Bad Art Collective's "rock lottery," where musicians from Denton bands formed random groupings to play one-time gigs at the collective's benefit shows. "I like to get lost, to put myself in situations where I'm not in control, and just deal with it — in music and in life. Improvising can make you a better musician, a better human being. You learn to work with people, cooperate, compromise."

He's grown disenchanted with the Dallas Creative Music Alliance, an organization he formed to promote the kind of adventurous music he's been playing for 12 years. "Guys were just using it as a booking agency to get gigs," he said. "But when it comes to coming out and supporting each other's shows, they're just not there."

A few weeks after their most recent Black Dog stand, Ghostcar (minus Perdue) held forth at Dallas' Red Blood Club before a small handful of people — a regular Wednesday night occurrence. Things were hit and miss, but when the elements were all working together, the music was like food for a hungry soul — haunting and lyrical. "When we play, I'll try and project a certain intention — like healing people or keeping President Bush from invading Iraq," said Poetschke. "The thing to avoid is trying too much to influence the direction of the music." At the end of the night, the owner informed Poetschke that Ghostcar had lost the gig.

"I'm invested in this music, but I also have other things in my life that I've been neglecting," said Poetschke. "It sounds egotistical, but I'm afraid that if I stop, then this [band] will stop." A Black Dog show planned for this weekend was cancelled when the restless trumpeter took a two-month gig in Maui, but the band promises to resume activity when he returns in May, concentrating on recording and playing Fort Worth and Denton venues.