Susheela Raman – Ghost Child

Susheela Raman – Ghost Child
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‘Ghost Child’, filmed on location in Indonesia, captures the haunting atmosphere of her ‘Ghost Gamelan’ album (naïve). Chosen by Le Monde and The Guardian among their albums of the year, Raman’s seventh studio offering matches her sinuous voice with the unearthly shimmer of Javanese Gamelan.

We haunt ourselves. We have scarcely stretched our wings before we become the hard old mountains where winds insinuate and clouds roll through. In a ceremonial space lined by the shifting geometries of the gamelan, initiate musicians offer the abrasion of esoteric microtones, changing out of jeans into court costumes, they stash their magic sleeping daggers as their practiced fingers summon choreographies, releasing and staunching sound. Remembering their etiquette and their forbears that sit among them, who would never imagine what might connect them to a less than royal rehearsal room in a London basement, where experiments are hatched and then gifted to the air. Kadek in Paris is a veiled apparition dancing the transit from youth to age, measuring her new world against the music she recognises, even in this unfamiliar hybrid form. Susheela sings outside and within, between our longing for landscapes and our disillusionment with them, between Surakarta and London and Paris, between male and female, human and animal, being and annihilation.
Making this film we never anticapted how in a few short months the pandemic would separate us from each other and from the lost moment when we were all together. So our impossible dream lives here. Music is a ritual of remembering, merging sadness and joy, looping back to chase shapes as fugitive as clouds. It amplifies our call and response with the child we once were, whose echoes urge us on, even as the cremation fires beckon.

LYRICS

hawk
rising
circles the empty sky
she is just being
as i, just being
someone
somewhere
somehow become
the fraying
edge
of a picture
of a a fledgeling
on a high ledge
looking down
the ghost of a child
echoes on the wind
i have returned
in older skin
river
killer
she breaks and mends
smoke ahead
my journeys end…
no-one will share
these eyes,
this face
ash all over
this ancient place
ghost of a child
always close behind
your shining eyes
and your hoard of time
out in the wild
voices ride the wind
go speak with them child
those echoes
echoes
echoes
on the wind

they say
the future
is a trial
but never give in
never give in
never give in

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