New Monarchy’s “Ghost” opens with the disturbing image of bleeding into a pen, transforming self-harm into the act of writing itself. Dan Shapiro’s lyrics don’t just describe feeling invisible—they methodically catalog the psychological architecture of being systematically shut out by someone whose attention you desperately need.
The Upstate New York trio builds their early 2000s indie-rock foundation around this central metaphor of spectral existence, but their approach avoids nostalgic pastiche. Instead, they use familiar sonic territory to explore genuinely unsettling emotional terrain. The repeated phrase “I feel like a ghost now” functions less as catchy hook and more as mantra of erasure, each repetition reinforcing the speaker’s diminishing sense of substance.
Shapiro’s lyrics operate on a disturbing transactional logic: “If I were to be ugly / But labeled it as lovely / Would you still be there?” These lines reveal someone so desperate for connection they’re willing to accept deliberate misrepresentation rather than continued neglect. The promise to “haunt you till the end” carries genuine menace beneath its romantic desperation—suggesting that being ignored might be worse than being feared.

John Pailley’s drumming provides the rhythmic backbone that keeps these dark thoughts from spiraling into shapelessness, while the band’s production maintains clarity without sanitizing the song’s more troubling implications. There’s something particularly effective about how they handle the repeated “if only you knew” sections—building tension through repetition rather than releasing it.
“Ghost” succeeds because New Monarchy understands that feeling invisible isn’t passive melancholy but active torment. Their exploration of what happens when someone refuses to acknowledge your existence reveals the violence inherent in deliberate indifference, making ghostliness feel less like fading away and more like being forcibly erased.

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