Baltimore Burns (Metaphorically)
Words and Photos by Michael Sprouse/ Odd Rocker Photography
It was that kind of Baltimore in July; getting hammered by a hard, heavy thunderstorm that made you question your life choices. But that didn’t stop the swarm of black-clad faithful from descending on CFG Bank Arena for the kickoff of Ghost’s Skeleta 2025 US tour.
At CFG Bank Arena on July 9, the crowd was a mashup of goths, aging metalheads, theater kids who leaned hard into darkness, and your occasional confused-looking dad who probably got dragged here by a teenage daughter in platform boots. There were patched denim jackets with faded Mercyful Fate logos and a merch line longer than the Vatican’s list of regrets.
Doors opened fashionably late — Ghost fans have made a religion out of patience, after all — and the wave of people that surged inside moved like a single dark organism with way too many piercings. The second I walked into the arena proper, I got hit with that smell: fog machine juice, vinyl, leather, and sweat, and just a whisper of something churchy. Frankincense maybe? Or maybe I just imagined it. Felt right either way.
Then it got quiet, like the kind of quiet you only get when 15,000 people are collectively holding their breath.
The ritual began with an intro rolled out like a funeral procession dipped in honey — slow, beautiful, and unnervingly graceful. “Peacefield” isn’t a rager, but it doesn’t have to be. It sort of unfurls, you know? Like a crimson velvet curtain dragging across a marble floor. It set the tone: somber, theatrical, majestic without being showy. A perfect misdirection before the gut-punch to come.
And then… the curtain dropped, and there he was — Papa V Perpetua, backlit like some unholy archbishop emerging from the fog. The arena lost its mind in layers. Some people screamed. Some people gasped. Some just stared in open-mouthed disbelief.
The stage looked like someone built a gothic cathedral inside a casino inside a Tim Burton fever dream. Towering Gothic arches, faux stained glass, and a glowing inverted cross with lights (the Grucifix) floating dead-center like it was suspended by faith — or wires. I’ve seen Ghost before, but this was bigger. Shinier. Weirder and more confident.
“Lachryma” followed — it’s an ode to moving on from a painful experience. The lyrics, combined with the gothic imagery of vampires, suggested a draining and consuming past connection and the sweet freedom of escaping.
Watch the official music video for “Lachryma” by Ghost on YouTube:
The Nameless Ghouls looked sharper this tour — slimmer tailoring, a little more menace in the masks, with top hats and tails and skeleton designs. Still anonymous, still playful, still somehow the tightest band this side of Hell. And as they tore into “Spirit,” things really took off. That opening riff crackled like static from a dying star, and the crowd moved as one, fists in the air and horns up. The upper levels of the arena started swaying like it had opinions. Papa didn’t speak right away. He didn’t need to. His whole vibe said, “You came for absolution, and you’ll get it — after we ruin your hearing.” And “Per Aspera ad Inferi” landed like it was summoned directly from a demonic jukebox. It’s theatrical doom, sure, but there’s real weight behind it. By the time we got to “Faith,” the pit was moving like a blender full of demons in eyeliner.
The lighting cues were so synced with the percussion that it felt like the stage was breathing with the band. It wasn’t just a rock show — it was a communion of distortion and leather and low-end frequencies that rattled your ribs in all the right ways.
Next up? “Majesty.” And it earned the name — it sauntered in like it owned the place, all swagger and stomp, part biblical epic and part disco fever dream. The Ghouls leaned in harder here, stretching the groove like taffy, teasing the edges of funk and arena metal until the two bled together. And Papa? He grinned while he twirled his mic like an unholy bishop on Broadway. There was a weird sort of time suspension happening by the time they launched into “The Future is a Foreign Land.” It’s a newer track but it already hits like a Ghost classic—melancholic, sweeping, full of that bittersweet doom-pop that makes you want to both sway and scream. There’s a quiet desperation under the gloss that hits you differently live. Papa just stood still, letting the lyric “But if it all burns down” hang in the air like incense smoke and nobody breathed.
And then: “Devil Church.” Now here’s the thing — this one’s basically an instrumental interlude, but they treated it like a full-blown sacred rite. The lights went cold blue. A single spotlight hit a ghoul at the keys, summoning gothic organ tones so rich they almost made you forget you were surrounded by drunk people in Baphomet shirts. Almost.
Papa reemerged in a fresh robe — this time, looking like a pope who’d taken a wrong turn into a Danzig video. “Cirice” came next, and it was electric. Slow and seductive, patient and devastating. No drama, no movement, just complete emotional possession. Ghost does that. “Darkness at the Heart of My Love” followed like a requiem. This was the moment the whole night softened. It was lovely, in a slightly doomed way.
As if on cue, “Satanized” dropped like a guillotine.
Watch the official music video for “Satanized” by Ghost on YouTube:
There’s no delicate way to say this: Satanized absolutely ripped the roof off. What started soft and strange had now turned blasphemously loud and gloriously unhinged. It wasn’t chaos for chaos’ sake, though. There was method in the madness. Every cymbal crash felt like a firecracker tossed into a chapel. The Ghouls were locked in, slinking from one riff to the next like demons who’d taken jazz lessons.
“Satan Prayer” gave the crowd a moment to scream their allegiance — half reverent, half bloodthirsty. The arena transformed into a dark choir. You could feel the sound bounce back off the rafters like it was trying to escape.
Then came “Umbra,” a lullaby dipped in shadow. If Satanized cracked open the skull, Umbra crawled into your heart and lit a match. The dynamic shift hit hard — that haunting melody was the calm between exorcisms.
And then… “Year Zero.” If the first half of the set was a mass, this was the summoning. The intro alone had the floor shaking. The crowd roared every syllable of the demonic roll call like it was the only thing keeping the earth from splitting. I don’t care if you’ve seen it live 10 times — it never stops being feral and demonic.
So naturally, they followed that madness with “He Is.” That’s the trick, right? Whiplash pacing. You go from volcanic invocation to soft-serve spirituality in under two minutes and it works. Somehow.
And just when things started to feel almost peaceful — “Rats.” Say what you will about that song, it’s a blast live. Papa strutted across the stage like a haunted Mick Jagger, whipping the crowd into a gleeful, snarling froth. And then came “Kiss the Go-Goat,” which turned the whole arena into a satanic prom. Campy, flashy, and utterly delightful.
By this point, reality was starting to blur. Which meant it was time for “Mummy Dust.”
“Mummy Dust” came in like a glitter-covered jackhammer. One minute the arena was basking in the disco gloom of “Kiss the Go-Goat,” and the next, the whole place turned gold. Literal gold. Confetti cannons exploded with sparkly paper shrapnel and satanic themed money as if Ghost had opened a hellmouth full of Vegas slot machines.
The Ghouls ripped through the track like it had personally insulted them backstage. Papa, in full smug glory, prowled the front of the stage tossing “mummy bucks” into the crowd like some unholy televangelist on payday.
That’s what makes this band special — it’s never just doom and dread. It’s theater. It’s pageantry. It’s a knowing wink wrapped in a shadowy hymn and nobody does the “ominous but fabulous” thing better than Ghost.
Which brings us to “Monstrance Clock.” The closer. The hymn. The final procession. The crowd knew what was coming the second those bells hit — slow, deliberate, seductive. There’s something almost dangerous about how sweetly this song ends a show. It’s not a banger. It’s a lullaby, but one soaked in sin. Voices rose as one. People threw arms around strangers. Even security guards were mouthing the words. “Come together, together as one.”
It felt less like a closing number and more like a spell. Like everyone in the building had agreed to sign something they didn’t fully read. Or maybe they had.
Watch the official music video for “Monstrance Clock” by Ghost on YouTube:
Then the lights went black. But we weren’t going anywhere.
After about a minute of darkness — long enough to wonder if the set was really over, short enough to keep the adrenaline high — Encore time.
“Mary on a Cross” rose out of the dark like a ghost itself — no pun intended. It’s always been a weird one. That soft, woozy, retro swirl paired with lyrics that walk a fine line between devotional and profane. The arena sang every word, like the entire crowd had made their own TikTok edits in secret and never told anyone.
And just when things felt too tender — “Dance Macabre.” That one got everyone moving. It’s the most pure-fun song in the Ghost catalog. Disco Satanic. Catchy as hell, literally.
Then finally… “Square Hammer.” There’s no other closer. That riff hit and the place went nuclear. The final blast of smoke. The strobes. The confetti. Papa standing center stage like the last villain in a gothic RPG with everyone screaming “Are you on the square?!” like it was a national anthem. Honestly, it kinda is.
Then it was over. Lights up, no encore to the encore. Just that familiar dazed shuffle toward the exits with folks mumbling stuff like “I can’t believe that just happened” while wiping eyeliner off their cheeks.
Ghost didn’t just play a show. They staged a possession.
And Baltimore? Baltimore let it happen.
Setlist
1. Peacefield
2. Lachryma
3. Spirit
4. Per Aspera ad Inferi
5. Faith
6. Majesty
7. The Future Is a Foreign Land
8. Devil Church
9. Cirice
10. Darkness at the Heart of My Love
11. Satanized
12. Satan Prayer
13. Umbra
14. Year Zero
15. He Is
16. Rats
17. Kiss the Go-Goat
18. Mummy Dust
19. Monstrance Clock
Encore
20. Mary on a Cross
21. Dance Macabre
22. Square Hammer
Here are photos of Ghost performing live at CFG Bank Arena on July 10, 2025. All pictures copyright and courtesy of Michael Sprouse/ Odd Rocker Photography.
