Review Summary: The girls, they tell me I'm all out of love
Census Designated was a treat in 2023. For those not in the know, Jane Remover took a detour from her pre-transition work away from the indietronica-meets-hyperpop type deal she was on with releases like
Frailty and
Teen Week, and far,
faaaar away from the genre she invented called "Dariacore" around the same time. While those pieces of her musical development have their fans and audience for sure, I'd be lying if I told you that all of it struck a chord with me; apart from "homeswitcher" off
Teen Week, my enjoyment of Jane's work pretty much just begins with her third studio album under her main alias. It's an emotionally gripping, if a bit messy at times, new-era shoegaze album with elements of post-rock, and despite a somewhat mixed reception among friends of mine, I found it an intriguing piece. Then comes the start of 2025, and she released a super abrasive digicore/trap hybrid called "JRJRJR" where the lyrics are centered primarily around Jane's desire to once again change her name and move away from the past, but also with the understanding that this would just turn into a never-ending cycle of running away.
Ghostholding, under the alias of Venturing, serves as somewhat of a part 2 stylistically to the aforementioned
Census, while still allowing Jane to pursue this reinvention into abrasive digicore in her main project. The origin of Venturing is similarly intriguing; at first, Jane chose the "fictional band" route ala Gorillaz, but as of now that has been completely retconned and it became another one of her many aliases. She takes the gazey emotional stylings of her last mainline release and streamlines it into a somewhat more accessible format; gone are the slightly-meandering songs that, apart from "Fling" and "Holding a Leech", all went above five minutes, and in are fairly typical pop-length songs instead, with the longest track being "Sick / Relapse" at around five and a half minutes. While
Census lied firmly in the post-rock/shoegaze combo, this hints more at an indie-emo-gazey hybrid with a touch of even some 90's noise pop and grunge influence. Much like the fictionalized version of Venturing she had come up with a few years prior, this is a super stripped-back version of Jane's writing.
So, how does this fare? Well, this is to date my favorite Jane release, and it might even stay above the upcoming
Revengeseekerz on pure stylistic grounds. She just doesn't miss when it comes to rock-influenced music; it feels intentionally like a relic of something from decades' past, but just modernized and given a new coat of paint. The feelings it evokes are not unlike something you'd get out of something like, Alice in Chains' work while Layne Staley was still around, even if it approaches those feelings with the grace of something like Nirvana's
In Utero in the process.
A song like "Dead Forever" is among the most intense moments this album has to offer, not just musically, but also lyrically as well. It opens with the lines "he thinks with his dick, you think with your heart, he tells you that you're gonna be a star", which appears to be a reference to higher-up industry executives exploiting women and their desire for stardom. Other lines bring up other issues, such as how some men are willing to do anything to be horrible to women ("those boys, they spiked my drink"), and "Famous Girl" also treads the line of speaking about how fame affects people ("I never thought I'd be famous, but I feel like I'm a star"). The most emotionally stunning moment of this album though has to be the closer "Sister", as Jane's impulsive desires to "get fucked up" and spiral back into what she views as the comforting vices of alcohol abuse and going to the club, but then realizing that due to her ongoing battle with depression, even that doesn't seem to suffice in her darkest moments ("The things that bring me joy drive me to tears, the things that made my world can't be reversed, the day I'm out of work and out of peers") and she feels like she has nothing left.
There are a few things here that lack a bit of polish, namely the mathy rhythms of "No Sleep" not quite sounding right, but when everything else here is as strong and emotionally evocative, it's easy to overlook that and keep putting this album on repeat.
Ghostholding is an extremely passionate and sentimental project, with lyrics surrounding fame, mental health issues, and a deliberately throwback sound that hearkens back to an older era. It's not often that an album that sounds quite like this grips me quite like this, but Jane did it. Even some people who were unnerved by the long-form writing and experimentation on
Census Designated will likely be able to find something to love here. One thing is abundantly clear after giving this so much time; 2025 is Jane Remover's year, we're just living in it.
