Ghost’s Skeletá: Haunted by Hope, Sanctified in Silence

Released on April 25, 2025, Skeletá marks Ghost’s sixth studio album—and perhaps their most vulnerable, stylistically expansive, and emotionally resonant release yet.

It’s a record that trades apocalyptic bombast for human-scale intimacy, fusing their arena-sized theatrics with a sonic palette inspired by 80s AOR, synth rock, and melodic metal. Tobias Forge, once again stepping into a new role as Papa V Perpetua, leads Ghost into an era not defined by conquest or decay—but reflection.

Where 2022’s Impera looked outward at collapsing civilizations, Skeletá turns the gaze inward. It’s not about the fall of empires this time—it’s about the crumbling of one’s inner walls. What rises from the rubble is something more honest than Ghost has ever dared to be. If Prequelle flirted with mortality, Skeletá dances with it in the dark—and finds catharsis through melody.

Into the Mirror: Themes of Identity, Faith, and Fracture

Opener “Lachryma” wastes no time setting the emotional tone. A moody, synth-drenched intro gives way to ghostly guitars and Forge’s layered harmonies, building tension before erupting into a melancholic chorus about spiritual abandonment. “I prayed through glass, but no one prayed back,” Forge croons—less a condemnation than a confession.

From there, Skeletá unfolds as a journey through self-doubt, fractured belief, and emotional reckoning. Tracks like “Umbra” and “De Profundis Borealis” take Ghost’s familiar motifs—light and shadow, sin and salvation—and apply them not to the world stage, but to the soul. “Peacefield,” perhaps the album’s most accessible track, delivers an almost Springsteen-like anthem, complete with a soaring saxophone solo that somehow doesn’t feel out of place. It’s a hopeful high point in a record that largely swims in emotional grey.

This isn’t Ghost abandoning their theatricality—it’s Ghost recontextualizing it. Instead of religious iconography or historical allegory, the stakes here are personal: failed relationships, spiritual fatigue, isolation, and the quiet desperation of feeling unseen. Forge doesn’t present answers, but he offers solidarity in the questions.

Satanized and Synths: Soundtracking an Inner Apocalypse

Lead single “Satanized” arrived with plenty of fanfare—and for good reason. It’s a swaggering, synth-heavy monster with Queen-inspired vocal harmonies, chugging riffs, and a chorus that’s already become a live staple. But what makes it stand out isn’t just its hooks—it’s the unease lurking underneath. The lyrics point to a spiritual identity crisis, cloaked in tongue-in-cheek bravado. “Call me the patron saint of doubt,” Forge sings, winking through the chaos.

The second half of Skeletá veers even further from metal orthodoxy. “Guiding Lights” is built around a delicate piano motif and one of Forge’s most understated vocal performances to date. “Cenotaph,” a sprawling, seven-minute mini-epic, channels Pink Floyd and So-era Peter Gabriel—complete with ethereal backing vocals and a haunting ambient outro.

But Ghost hasn’t forgotten how to rock. “The Mourner’s Masquerade” brings back the bombast with galloping guitars and an irresistible, gothic-tinged chorus, while “Veritas (Through the Fire)” flirts with NWOBHM influences, reinterpreted through synth-heavy production that gives it a modern sheen.

Forge has described Skeletá as “a conversation with the self,” and that’s exactly how it feels. The album flows like a diary—haunted, hopeful, occasionally humorous, and always human.

Flesh and Faith: Ghost at Their Most Human

Forge sounds more emotionally exposed than ever before. On “Gallows Grace,” he sings in a near-whisper over acoustic guitar and soft strings, delivering lyrics that feel closer to a confessional than a sermon. It’s a standout not because of its grandeur, but because of its vulnerability: “I hung my hope from hollow beams and called it home.” There’s no mask here—just a voice reaching out into the void.

Closing track “Credo (Requiem for the Self)” doesn’t end on a triumphant note. Instead, it resolves the album with ambiguity—a droning organ fades into static as Forge’s final lines echo, “If I am not what I believed, then what am I?” It’s a brave decision to close on a question rather than a statement, but it fits Skeletá perfectly. This isn’t an album that provides closure—it’s one that invites contemplation.

The Sound of Shadows

From a production standpoint, Skeletá is stunning. Co-produced by Tobias Forge and Gene Walker and mixed by Andy Wallace and Dan Malsch, the album straddles the line between retro and modern. The guitars are warm and melodic, layered over lush synth beds and reverb-drenched percussion that gives each track space to breathe. The bass work is especially notable—fluid, melodic, and more forward in the mix than on previous albums.

The visual aesthetic, too, is striking. The album artwork, designed by longtime collaborator Zbigniew Bielak, is a surreal mosaic of religious iconography and fragmented human forms—mirroring the album’s central theme of identity dissolution and reconstruction.

And Ghost’s live show? It’s evolved in lockstep with the music. The Skeletá tour features a full narrative arc, new costuming for the Nameless Ghouls, and Forge-as-Papa V delivering theatrical sermons between songs. The emotional heft of tracks like “Lachryma” and “Guiding Lights” hits even harder live, proving that Ghost’s transition toward more human themes hasn’t dulled their flair for spectacle—it’s deepened it.

Final Verdict: 9/10

With Skeletá, Ghost doesn’t abandon their past—they refine it with a level of honesty and maturity that makes this album feel like both a creative peak and a personal exorcism. It’s an emotionally resonant, musically adventurous, and thematically brave release that redefines what Ghost can be—not just a band cloaked in myth, but a mirror held up to the soul.

In an age where rock is often either overly nostalgic or desperate for relevance, Skeletá walks the line gracefully. It’s a record for anyone who’s ever questioned their faith, doubted their identity, or simply needed music that dares to feel.

Standout Tracks: