GHOSTING

"And the shadows float ahead."

It all began in 1989, when the world of dark electronic music felt eerily still. For a restless 14-year-old in Germany, who had already worn out his cassettes of The Sisters of Mercy, DAF, and Dead Can Dance, the silence was unbearable. So he filled it himself. That teenager was Sascha, and the band he formed out of sheer creative necessity became Ghosting—a name borrowed from childhood ghost stories and destined to haunt underground scenes across Europe for years to come.

From their haunting early demos—where Dark Ambient textures met medieval undertones—to a debut album deal struck the same night they played Bonn’s Ballhaus, Ghosting quickly claimed their own corner of the underground. Their 1991 debut 'Romantic Death' leaned heavily into Gothic Rock, but it didn’t take long for Sascha’s restless vision to push the project beyond genre boundaries, blending Classical, Industrial, and Electronic elements long before such cross-pollination became common.

Peek-A-Boo Magazine is pleased to sit down with Sascha to reflect on Ghosting's beginnings, explore where the project stands today, and glimpse into what may lie ahead.

First of all, on behalf Peek-A-Boo Magazine, thank you, Sascha, for taking the time to talk with us. It's inspiring to think that Ghosting began when you were just 14.

Thank you, Peek-A-Boo, for your interest in the story behind Ghosting. It’s a pleasure to do this kind of interview with you.

Yes, it all started when I was 14 years old. I didn’t really have a choice—it wasn’t like I was simply experimenting with music in my free time. I was in a mental state where nothing else seemed to help. There was this eerie silence in the world around me, especially in the kind of music I craved—dark, intense, emotional. So I started filling that silence myself. Connecting with my synthesizers, writing songs, layering sounds—it gave me a sense of focus, of purpose.

At the time, of course, I didn’t understand any of that. I was just a teenager trying to feel better. Now, decades later, when I look back at the lyrics I wrote, I’m struck by how dark and intense they were. If my kids wrote those kinds of songs today, I’d probably take them straight to a therapist. I was just this weird kid writing weird music. Take “Ad Infinitum” for example—it’s all blood: blood on the floor, on the stairs, on the door, in my mind, in the air. Not exactly what you’d expect from a 15-year-old. But that’s how it all began. That was me trying to find a place in the world—through sound, through atmosphere, through music—rather than through anything visual. And in a way, those early shadows are still floating ahead.

Your early work already blended electronic and gothic elements in a unique way. Were you conscious of genre boundaries back then, or did you instinctively ignore them?

Oh dear me, my approach was rather naïve, I must confess—I simply selected the elements that appealed to me and arranged them to my own liking. Indeed, I felt sufficiently emboldened to believe that the others' compositions were somehow incomplete: Mahler wanted for electric percussion, The Sisters of Mercy lacked the sacred mysticism of Dead Can Dance, The Cure required the profound, occult depths of Coil, Current 93 wanted for proper structure, DAF needed the New Wave sensibility, and Kraftwerk had become rather tedious, all things considered,

Then there were those thrilling new movements—Sven Väth, 16 BIT, Nitzer Ebb, Front 242, the Detroit and Frankfurt Techno scenes. I rather felt as though I had found myself in the very Garden of Eden of both nascent and ancient concepts and sounds—with nothing required of me save to assemble them according to my preference.
However, within my heart lay naught but a pitch-black abyss of the most lightless, energy-sapping darkness imaginable. Hence, I suppose, why one would never have recognised some of the Pet Shop Boys' more melancholic offerings from that period, despite my genuine appreciation for them.

So... it was not a matter of breaking boundaries, you understand. Rather, it was about deliberately disregarding them entirely and creating a new sort of beautiful chaos that, in my estimation, blazed more brilliantly than whatever might have constituted the next evolutionary stage of any of those established limitations.

‘Romantic Death,’ your debut album, is often seen as a cornerstone of early ’90s Goth Rock. Could you tell us about how the album came together?

Is it really a cornerstone? Hmm. That era was honestly a rough patch. I was determined to keep my music bleak and atmospheric, but the label wanted something more accessible and brought in Bruno Kramm from Das Ich to steer the production. Bruno did exactly what he was hired to do—and he did it well—so the album landed squarely in Goth-Rock territory, which was precisely something I did NOT want to achieve.

To me, however, it felt derivative, too close to The Cure or The Mission—both brilliant bands, but I never aspired to reinvent what already existed. By 1992 Goth Rock was, in my mind, dead and buried. Worse, the studio polish dulled some of my strongest songs, like “Meaning of Life” and “Denkmal.” I was too young to fight back, so I did what intelligent kids need to do when surrounded by things they don't get: I drank—first at night, then all day—just waiting for the ordeal to end.

When it finally did, I swore I’d learn every facet of audio engineering myself. Taking control of that last production step changed everything for me. No hard feelings toward Bruno—he simply followed the brief. My only real grievance is the Bavarian beer he kept foisting on me. That was unforgivable, mate.

The ‘Gespenster-Geschichten’ kids comics have been an important inspiration for you. Imagine that you could step inside one of those eerie, ghostly tales to find otherworldly or mythical beings as bandmates to perform with you on stage—what kinds of beings would you choose? And which instruments would you assign to each of them?

What a delightful thought experiment! Here’s my dream lineup:

- The White Lady on grand piano—her spectral elegance sets the melancholy tone.
- The Betrayed Groom’s shadow on violin—its weeping timbre adds a restless undercurrent.
- No percussion whatsoever. I’ve never liked drums cluttering the sonic gloom.
- Myself on lead vocals—naturally.
- A duo of vampiric sopranos as my ethereal backing choir. -Encircling them, a chorus of cavern-voiced monsters to thunder in during the most dramatic passages.

With that ensemble we’d conjure music both haunting and strangely majestic—perfect for a stage set in mist and half-light. I'd also like to have some black cats tuning in and some hell hounds doing their music of the night.

Now that's a concert I would definitely want to witness from the front row! You’ve mentioned that connecting with your synthesizers was a way for you to fill the silence and express yourself at a young age. Over the years, how has your relationship with synthesizers evolved? Given that there was a time when synthesizers weren't always seen as 'real' instruments—despite pioneers like Vangelis, Jean-Michel Jarre, and Tangerine Dream proving their power—how do you think synthesizers have earned their place in modern music? Are there any particular synthesizers or pieces of gear that have been instrumental in shaping the sound of Ghosting?

We're actually at the point I always dreamed of reaching – where the audience no longer cares whether the music is created with synthesizers or traditional instruments.

As for my own relationship with synths: what fascinated me from the beginning was the ability to imitate 'real' instruments using synthesizers – and especially samplers – with such convincing detail. Even back in 1989, that was my goal, although the technology was still limited. It was obvious back then that you weren’t hearing a real guitar or drum kit.

But that was exactly what I was aiming for: to create music at my fingertips that sounded so real, no one could tell the difference. And I believe we've finally arrived there.
What I enjoy most is the freedom to mix and match as I please – perhaps some authentic-sounding electric guitars here, some digital synth textures there.

That said, synthesizers are my instruments of choice, and the more they evolve, the less I feel the need to pick up a traditional instrument.

Just to bring Jean-Michel Jarre back into the mix, he has famously collaborated with, among others, Hank Marvin of the legendary guitar band The Shadows on the track ‘London Kid’. If you had the chance to collaborate with any renowned synthesizer wizard, who would you choose?

You got me – yes, it would be Jean-Michel Jarre. He’s the reason I got into synthesizers in the first place, back in 1980, when I was eight years old and heard his album Oxygène.
His style remains unique to this day – blending classical composition techniques with cutting-edge technology. That’s exactly what I’ve always aimed for.

So yes, it’s the French guy.

To come back to your dream lineup and the concert subject, In 1992, Ghosting was one of the bands to perform at the first-ever Wave-Gothic-Treffen in Leipzig. What do you remember about that performance and the event as a whole? How did it feel to be part of such a significant moment in the Gothic scene?

Well, I’m afraid to say it didn’t feel like anything special at the time. No one could have predicted that the WGT would eventually establish itself as the global goth event.
Back then, we played plenty of gigs at similar occasions, so honestly – it was just another show. Nothing particularly remarkable, really. I'd really love to tell something more interesting about it - but there simply wasn't.

On a different note now, living in Flanders I just have to ask, what fascinates you about our landscape that it has become a theme in songs such as ‘Flanders’ (featured on ‘The Flanders’ E.P.) and ‘Der Tod in Flandern’?

At school, we studied the poem In Flanders Fields, which I found absolutely brilliant. Not long after, I came across the old song Flämischer Totentanz, which fascinated me just as much. I had always wanted to do a cover version, but I never felt quite ready—perhaps because I hadn’t seen Flanders with my own eyes.
However, between my school days and 2020, I had the chance to visit Flanders several times. And each time I passed a field, I found myself wondering what might have happened there. Was this the place where soldiers had fallen? Was it during the First World War, or even earlier?
So in 2020, when I decided to continue with Ghosting and start writing new material, covering this song felt like a natural and long-overdue choice.

Apart from that, I’ve always felt drawn to the North Sea—whether it’s the coasts of Germany, Denmark, Belgium, the Netherlands, or England. I can’t quite explain what it is about that sea, but it has been calling me ever since I first crossed the Channel to England by ferry… sometime in the early 1980s.

Looking back on everything you’ve released so far, what would you recommend to new fans who are just discovering Ghosting? Are there any particular albums or tracks that stand out for you?

Well, that’s a tough one. While I personally prefer my more unconventional songs, those tend to be the least accessible to new listeners.
I’ve found that the album Disguised in Black contains quite a few tracks that appeal to a broader audience—such as the title track itself, Little World, and Lion King. So if I had to choose, I’d probably go with the Disguised in Black album.

However, the album that resonates most deeply with me is Songs from Fairyland.

In 2003, you decided to step away from the musical career path, only to resurrect Ghosting in 2024. What inspired your return to music after such a long break?

I actually resumed Ghosting in 2020. And the reason I returned to music is quite simple: because I had to.
I realised that creating music is the only thing that truly keeps me sane. Spending time with my synths, writing the lyrics I need to write, and then releasing them to a broader audience—it’s more than a passion, it’s a necessity.
Each song feels like I’m getting something off my chest. And by sharing these pieces of myself, I hope I might help others confront their own inner demons.

At the end of the day, I don’t really have a choice. I've got to do this—I wouldn’t survive without it.

Let’s dive again into the world of White Ladies, Hell Hounds, Vampiric Sopranos, and other dark, spectral beings—but now from a totally different perspective. Imagine that, for all their descendants, they wish to document how they perceive the human race, but they need your help to do so. How would you assist them in capturing the essence of humanity through their eyes?

Of course—through music and lyrics. But let me take a different path to answer your question.

When I was a child, reading all those Gothic stories from the 18th and 19th centuries, I truly believed they were real—just as they were described. Later in life, as I delved deeper into alchemical teachings on one hand and modern (quantum) physics on the other, I realised something: there are no adequate words to describe certain kinds of entities or realities. And so, humans create stories, archetypes, and creatures to give form to what they intuit but cannot fully grasp.
If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s this: there *are* realms and entities beyond what we can perceive from our narrow vantage point.

So, to return to your question—today, I no longer write songs simply for the sake of writing. I only do so when I feel a connection of some kind—however subtle—to something beyond. It’s not necessarily communication in a conventional sense. It’s more like a resonance, a presence.
And perhaps that’s what you were asking: through my music, I let them speak—those entities, those realms—using me as their eyes and hands to describe the human world. In fact, there are songs of Ghosting that I’m convinced I could never have written on my own. Interestingly, those tend to be the ones that resonate most with listeners.

And I wouldn’t call myself a medium or anything like that. I’m simply an artist who has found a way to channel something from beyond—whatever and wherever that may be.

Feeling like a whole new chapter, your most recent release, ‘All Your Dreams’ E.P., still carries the essence of Ghosting but with some fresh twists. What can you tell us about the creative process behind it? Were there any new influences or themes that shaped this release?

It’s interesting that you’re asking this right after the previous question, because All Your Dreams is a perfect example of what I just described.

One day, I suddenly felt the urge to pick up my old bass guitar—which, as you already know, I usually avoid, since I much prefer working with synths—plug it into my old pedals, and just play around with a few riffs. Normally, that would’ve been the end of it. But something nudged me to share the riff on Instagram and ask the community whether the world really needed another Goth Rock song.
The response was positive—lots of thumbs up and encouraging messages. So I took it further. I began developing the song without any concrete plan in mind. It all flowed effortlessly and naturally; within just three or four hours, the entire track was finished.

Looking back on it now, I’d say All Your Dreams is a textbook example of what defines a classic mid-80s Goth track. But it also weaves in a few unexpected elements—like jazz harmonics and some classical composition techniques, though those are subtly embedded beneath the surface of the Goth Rock aesthetic I was aiming for.

To bring our conversation to a close, is there anything else you’d like to share with your fans or new listeners? Anything about a future yet to come for Ghosting? Once again, on behalf of Peek-A-Boo Magazine, thank you so much for taking the time to talk with us. It’s been a true pleasure. Until we meet again in the shadows... Cheers Sascha!

Thank you—it was pure pleasure for me as well. I truly appreciate the depth and care you bring to your questions.

As for Ghosting, I’m currently struggling to complete a full new album. It’s a slow process—balancing a full-time job and raising two kids leaves little room for creative flow. But I’m determined to finish this one last album.
That said, it won’t be a release aimed at a broader audience. This time, it’s about getting the rest off my chest. It will be raw. It will be cruel.

But then again—that’s what Gothic stories have always been about, haven’t they? Finding some beauty in this cruel world.

linktr.ee/ghostingoffice

Hayley CLX
17/07/2025