I remember the last time I heard Ghost. It was back in '96 with the release of their album Lama Rabi Rabi. At the time, I'd just moved to scenic Albertville, Minnesota, a small, isolated hick town about 40 miles north of Minneapolis and 40 miles south of St. Cloud. I'd relocated to Albertville to operate a telemarketing room in St. Cloud-- the company had offered me crazy money and, being a naive young lad, I felt that it was the logical next step in achieving a lifetime of working my ass off for the man. Those six months were easily the most depressing of my entire life-- the money I'd been promised never came through, I couldn't even almost afford my rent (at the end of my lease, I owed well over $2,000 to my good friend Donna over at Blue Star Properties), and before I knew it, I was broke and in the kind of debt that would give most grown men nightmares.

In my time of need, I found peace with Ghost's Lama Rabi Rabi, which had just been released at the time. I'd drive the 40 miles to St. Cloud daily, leaving the apartment promptly at 8:00 a.m. Ghost would follow me there, comforting me, pulling the tears from my eyes. Alright, it wasn't that bad. But regardless, there was Ghost, their blend of folky psychedelia and ethereal production leading me to a hell I knew I could not escape.

But times have changed. After three long years in the telemarketing biz, I finally got out. I'm now happily self- employed, living in the world's greatest city, Chicago, and engaged to be married in October. So it seems ironic that, at probably the best point of my life, just as I received my state and federal tax returns, Ghost would again return to my mailbox, greeting me with an album that is the exact aural equivalent of pure beauty.

For the last three days, I've been walking around Chicago, getting various things done and listening to Snuffbox Immanence on the handy ol' Discman. And y'know, as good as Lama Rabi Rabi was, the new disc is worlds better. As with their last record, it's surprisingly diverse. Sure, the primary focus is still psychedelic "chamber- folk" (as a sticker on the jewel case proudly proclaims), but you also get pop songs structured around traditional Japanese melodies ("Obiit 1961"), instrumental harp- style magic ("Tempera Tune"), and of all things, a Rolling Stones cover ("Live With Me").

Snuffbox Immanence is the first of two simultaneously released new Ghost records. The other, Tune In, Turn On, Free Tibet, admittedly sports an embarrasingly bad title. It's also supposedly filled to the brim with anit- Chinese propaganda, but I haven't listened to it yet. I've been far to preoccupied with this disc. But for all my raving, I'm finding it beyond my capabilities to fully explain how tremendously nice to listen to this album is. Oh, so nice. Again, I say-- nice! Eh, to hell with it. If you care, you'll check it out.

-Ryan Schreiber