When I turned on CHURCH by Roam Like Ghosts (I’m going to be completely honest here), I wasn’t expecting any kind of “wow” effect. Music in 2024 is often routine, a stream: tracks you consume like cereal for breakfast.

It’s useful, tasty, but nothing more. But something about this album was different. It’s not “turn it on and move on.” This is a record that requires a few simple yet important things: stop, pause, and listen.

photo by @KasiaHeadleyPhotography

But let’s start with the main point. Roam Like Ghosts know how to handle their material. Vocalist and songwriter Mathew Daugherty has such a range of emotions and easily manages to uncover even the darkest corners of your soul. Guitarist Bucky Fairfax is the kind of guy who can make an acoustic guitar sound like an entire band. And recently officially joined bassist Bobby DeRosa cements their overall sound. Together, they’re like old friends who know when to joke and when it’s time to get serious. And, of course, the producer deserves a mention too. Dick Hodgin knows his craft. Every texture is in its place, every instrument perfectly balanced.

I don’t know how it happened, but by the second track, I was sitting in silence. It was as if someone had turned on a recorder in my head and captured all my stuck thoughts, all the unsaid words, all the doubts I had buried for years.

This feeling is especially strong in Mathew Dougherty’s vocals. His voice is an entire universe. There are so many cracks and imperfections that it feels absurdly perfect. At times, I could almost picture him recording these lines alone, late at night, just so he wouldn’t forget them. It’s the voice of someone who knows what it means to fall but always gets back up.

And this album is called CHURCH. Why? I think I get it. At first, it seems tied to religion, but the title takes on a different interpretation here—it’s about the sacredness of the moment. Every track is a prayer, but not to some higher being. It’s a prayer to yourself, to your inner world. This is music that reminds you: sometimes “church” is you, your morning, your failures, and how you overcome them.

CHURCH has ten tracks, and, honestly, every one of them deserves your attention. But there are a few that practically demand you let them show what Roam Like Ghosts is truly capable of.

The album begins with an intriguing mix of bright yet dramatic Americana. Death and Me has something that instantly captivates—the intro opens the door to an entirely new room. The lyrics resonate like one of those rare conversations that stay with you for a long time. This track asks a fairly simple question: “Are you ready to face something bigger?”

When The Weight starts, the pace slows, and the band does what they do best—creates a space where you can feel every detail. Gentle guitars blend with subtle drum accents, while Mathew Dougherty’s vocals transport you into a romantic, almost fairytale-like state.

Futures mirrors The Weight—the second act of a larger story. Every detail of the sound conveys thoughtfulness, and lyric carries a piece of the soul.

In Not Giving Up on You, Roam Like Ghosts craft a melody that captivates with its thoughtfulness and evokes a strange, yet pleasant longing. It feels like an audio film, where Mathew’s vocals take on the role of a leading character, offering you a piece of himself.

As the album transitions into its second half, Blame Game steps back to let you catch your breath. It’s a meditative track. No excess, no clutter. It’s a song for those moments when silence and music form a perfect symbiosis.

But the respite is short-lived: So Hard to Say Goodbye restores the energy, and the journey toward the finale begins with Thumbelina—a track that bridges the past and the present. Finally, there’s Somnumbra Atra. If the entire album is a journey, this instrumental piece is the final stop. No words, no embellishments—just music that feels like a confession. It wraps around you completely, creating a sense of closure without finality.

My Verdict. This record is compelling, not just for its music (though there’s plenty to admire there) but as a study in its lyrics, their impact, and their connection to the listener. What do I love most? This album doesn’t try to be “for everyone.” It’s specific. It resonates with those willing to listen. This is an album for those searching for themselves amidst the noise.

I believe CHURCH is a space. A space where you can meet your true self. A space where mistakes become strength and silence transforms into dialogue. And if that isn’t art, then what is?

*This review was made possible by SubmitHub