Because Marie Litton, frontwoman and songwriter for the group, is my granddaughter, I couldn’t be objective while watching her performance. I was, of course, spellbound. “Maybe you’re too biased,” my inner voice warned. That’s why I decided to find out what others thought about this new video.

Without mentioning my relationship to Marie, I sent out the video link and solicited objective reactions. Imagine my surprise when Dan Jardine, a fellow member of the Online Film Critics Society, sent me the following response.

“I don't review videos, but I do watch 'em. There's definitely something going on here. I like the song, and the whole vibe of the piece, with its voyeuristic feel and discombobulating cinematography with the roaming camera work and in-and-out of focus shots that never really let you settle in is all quite effective at keeping you on edge. Oh, and the dress matching the wallpaper is a nice touch -- so Umbrellas of Cherbourg.”

Clearly, Dan used his film critic’s eye while viewing “Hell Here.”

Next, I surfed the internet to discover anything written about Ghost Buffalo’s music video.

From the group’s PR article, I found this wonderful description:

“Litton, channeling her most desperate hour, spins a dark-night-of-the-soul tale that caresses the listener like a chilly wind. Sleepless and haunted, she drags herself down hallways, head in hands, searching for a voice of hope.

”Video director Justin Staggs is an old hand at framing band footage: the mood and lyrics of the song inform his visual interpretation of the performance, and reliably, he makes the imagery of the clip resonate with the song…Staggs throws spots on isolated images inside an old house - a door, a grandfather clock, antique wallpaper. There's a definite Victorian feel to the footage; the architecture is Nineteenth-century inspired, and maybe even a little creepy. Cold circles of light are thrown on dark surfaces, and Staggs fades between the images in his crosshairs. The result is something like a fever dream - it's stark, spectral, insular.

“Marie Litton is, as you'd expect, the center of Staggs's attention. When she isn't fronting the group, she is shot barefoot in a 1950's gown. As she rests, unsettled, on a sofa, her face communicates a deep longing. Adding to the Hitchcockian feel of the clip, Staggs incorporates shots of blackbirds in flight and a glowing, old-school television test pattern. It's like looking through a pinhole into someone's half-unearthed memory - a projection of private visions suggesting reservoirs of placid, unspoken pain.”

And, in a review for Pastepunk, Jordan Baker writes, “Ghost Buffalo’s name conjures up images of invisible, 1500 pound beasts terrorizing a frightened public, but the only physical activity being evoked here is a slow rocking of the body as one nods along to Litton's unfolding, alternating quests of hope and disillusionment. It's a collision of serenity and tightly woven rock, and, really, it's a beautiful, consuming adventure.”

Looks like I’m not the only one spellbound by Ghost Buffalo.

To watch the band’s haunting video, click on the Website title below.