On FOLLOW THE WHITE RABBIT, GHØSTKID do not use Alice in Wonderland as decorative imagery. The rabbit hole becomes a map of a mind under pressure: one moment euphoric, the next exhausted, suspicious or close to collapse. Across eleven tracks, Sebastian “Sushi” Biesler turns the band’s third album into its most exposed statement so far.
The record arrives after a major reset around the project. Rather than hiding that rupture, the album makes instability part of its language. Heavy electronic textures, metalcore impact and sharp melodic hooks remain central, but they now serve songs that move between anger, insomnia, tenderness and social unease. The contrast is the point: darkness is not presented as a single mood, and the record refuses to stay in one emotional register.
A concept that works from the inside out
The title draws on Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and the darker imagination of American McGee’s Alice. Yet the album is not a literal retelling. Its looking glasses and rabbit holes give form to experiences that are harder to name directly: burnout, panic, self-doubt and the strange acceleration that can follow a personal crisis.
That internal logic is clear in the sequence. “THE END” opens the door before “IVORY,” “MOTHER DEATH” and “I DESTROYED YOU” push deeper into confrontation. The title track sits at the centre, while “PURPLE SNAKES” and “GIVE YOUR KIDS A GUN TO PLAY” widen the lens toward distrust and social criticism. Later, “NEON,” featuring Maz Univerze, brings hip-hop influence into the palette, and “LOVELY” allows a softer voice to surface without breaking the album’s world.
The result is less about stylistic novelty than emotional range. A heavy record can become predictable when every song aims for maximum intensity. Here, aggression has more effect because it is surrounded by moments of restraint and vulnerability. The quieter passages do not offer safety; they make the next impact feel earned.
Production built for pressure and detail
Long-time collaborator Sky van Hoff produced the album, with Jens Dreesen handling mastering. The sound balances density with separation: programmed and electronic elements sharpen the atmosphere, guitars provide physical weight, and the vocals move between controlled melody and abrasive release. Even at its busiest, the record leaves enough space for individual textures to register.
That clarity matters because the album’s concept depends on movement. The songs repeatedly shift from inward reflection to outward attack, echoing the unstable emotional swings described around the record. GHØSTKID’s identity has always relied on collision—metal, industrial colour, pop instinct and trap-adjacent rhythm—but FOLLOW THE WHITE RABBIT gives those collisions a stronger narrative purpose.
Not a clean escape
The album does not promise that confrontation leads to a tidy resolution. Its closing stretch is more interested in endurance than triumph. Hope appears, but it is fragile and deliberate: something held onto, not something automatically granted by the final chorus.
That makes FOLLOW THE WHITE RABBIT a convincing new chapter. It preserves the immediacy that made GHØSTKID distinctive while allowing uncertainty, tenderness and exhaustion to remain visible. The rabbit hole is still dangerous, but this time the band enters it without pretending to know exactly where the exit is.
Featured image: illustrative licensed concert photograph by Hector Bermudez via Unsplash. It does not depict GHØSTKID.
