Anathallo utilized a wide variety of instruments, including horns, guitars, drums, piano, bells, and even unconventional objects like chains, velcro strips, stomp boxes, and pipes. The band released several recordings through Selah Records, a vinyl release through Potential Getaway Driver, as well as completely independent releases. Their UK distributed release, Four: A Great Wind More Ash, was released by Big Scary Monster (BSM) in 2008
Members:
Matt Joynt - Vocals, Guitar, Auxiliary Percussion, Piano
Andrew Dost - Piano, Flugelhorn, Auxiliary Percussion, Vocals
Bret Wallin - Trombone, Auxiliary Percussion, Vocals
Danny Bracken - Guitar, Auxiliary Percussion, Vocals
Seth Walker - Bass, Vocals
Jeremiah Johnson- Drums, Vocals
Erica Froman - Vocals, Auxiliary Percussion, Clarinet, Autoharp
Joel Thiele - Drums, Percussion
John J. Audubon
Anathallo Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
We hear a constant wave that spins between our temples piercing content with its sound.
We lost the 20,000s several years ago.
Gradually we feel it washing blank the range in which we hold the things we know.
Put your ear to a hummingbird's wing.
Place the hum against the ring.
Listen to its still and violent motion making
We are dense waves.
We don't float.
Our stories all just sink below the mess of wake
the millions of paddled palms our cupped hands make.
Overhead the goose flies low, necks curve darted straight
as a compass needle, dislocated from his mate.
He found her body rafting toward the mouth of the river when
she disappeared with the current underneath the tree trunk bridge.
Out toward the mouth.
Out with the spilling water.
We saw it coming like a spirit soars directed.
Gunshot smoke and a sinking thereafter.
He fell fast to the ocean while the red painted feathers floated down.
And John Audubon thought about the wiring
as he swam toward the twisted neck and the broken boat body bobbed.
Examining the belly for the bullet's tiny piercing, he cried, "Oh!"
When a secret fluttered, a migrant hummer unlatched its grip.
Overhead his heart sped spooked and we splashed
as the gail swung cold and some fish folded in the crest slap
lapped at our heads, but we received it like a reprimand,
too consumed by motion to perceive or understand.
John J. Audubon, his gifted replication.
Painted with precision, perfect vision like the shot stain.
And the whole world swam in deaf anticipation
till the goose fell like a shed shell
from which the humming secret sprang.
The song "John J. Audubon" by Anathallo is a complex and multifaceted piece of music, with lyrics that explore themes of memory, loss, and the interplay between humans and the natural world. The opening lines provide a vivid description of the "crashing" sound that can overwhelm the human mind, especially in a world that seems increasingly disconnected from nature. The reference to the "20,000s" is somewhat ambiguous, but seems to suggest a time long ago when the natural world was more accessible and less threatened by human activity. As time goes on, this sense of connection fades and we are left with a feeling of being adrift, lost in a world that is increasingly unfamiliar.
The next section of the song provides a kind of counterpoint to this sense of dislocation, as the listener is invited to "put your ear to a hummingbird's wing" and to listen to the "still and violent motion" that animates the natural world. This juxtaposition of stillness and violence is a recurring motif throughout the song, and seems to suggest that even in the midst of chaos there is a kind of order and pattern that guides the rhythms of life. The image of "treading water" suggests that we are all part of this larger pattern, and that even when we feel adrift there is a sense of purpose or direction that propels us forward.
As the song progresses, it shifts from this contemplative mood to a more narrative mode, as the listener is introduced to the character of John J. Audubon, the famous naturalist and painter who studied and documented the birds of North America in the early 19th century. The reference to Audubon's "gifted replication" suggests that his art was a way of capturing the essence of the natural world, and of preserving its beauty and complexity for posterity. The image of the "twisted neck and the broken boat body" conjures a sense of violence and loss, as Audubon confronts the aftermath of some kind of tragedy, and the final lines of the song suggest that even in the midst of this chaos there is still something beautiful and mysterious to be discovered, like the "humming secret" that is revealed when the goose falls like a "shed shell."
Overall, the song is a powerful meditation on the human relationship to nature, and the ways in which we struggle to find meaning and purpose in a world that seems increasingly fragmented and disconnected. Through its vivid imagery and evocative lyrics, "John J. Audubon" invites the listener to attend more closely to the beauty and mystery of the natural world, and to seek out those moments of transcendent clarity and insight that can help us navigate the challenges of our lives.
Line by Line Meaning
Most of us have heard crashing so loud
Many of us have experienced a noise so loud that it echoes in our heads and disrupts our thoughts.
We hear a constant wave that spins between our temples piercing content with its sound.
This noise we hear is so persistent that it impairs our ability to think and process information clearly.
We lost the 20,000s several years ago.
We've lost the ability to concentrate and focus like we did in the past.
Gradually we feel it washing blank the range in which we hold the things we know.
This loss of concentration is causing us to forget things we previously knew and is erasing our knowledge and memories.
Put your ear to a hummingbird's wing.
Listen closely to the intricate details of a hummingbird's movements.
Place the hum against the ring.
Compare the hummingbird's movements to the sound of a ring or other circular object vibrating.
Listen to its still and violent motion making
Pay attention to both the apparent stillness and sudden, violent movements of the hummingbird's wings.
Treading water.
The movement of the hummingbird's wings resembles someone treading water.
We are dense waves.
Our actions and experiences create complex waves of energy around us.
We don't float.
We're not passive and do not simply drift along; we are actively moving forward whether we realize it or not.
Our stories all just sink below the mess of wake
The stories we tell are often lost or forgotten in the chaos and turbulence of everyday life.
the millions of paddled palms our cupped hands make.
The constant motion of our hands and actions creates a wake, which further erodes or obscures our stories.
Overhead the goose flies low, necks curve darted straight
A goose flies overhead in a determined and focused manner.
as a compass needle, dislocated from his mate.
The goose is alone, separated from its partner like a compass needle separated from its magnetic counterpart.
He found her body rafting toward the mouth of the river when
The goose later found his partner's body floating downstream.
she disappeared with the current underneath the tree trunk bridge.
The goose's partner was carried away by the current beneath a bridge made of tree trunks.
Out toward the mouth.
Moving towards the river's mouth or opening, where the current is strongest.
Out with the spilling water.
Heading out with the water that is spilling out of the river.
We saw it coming like a spirit soars directed.
We could sense that something was about to happen, like the way a spirit seems to direct its movements.
Gunshot smoke and a sinking thereafter.
A gunshot was fired and something subsequently sank.
He fell fast to the ocean while the red painted feathers floated down.
Something - perhaps the goose - fell into the ocean while its red feathers floated down to the water's surface.
And John Audubon thought about the wiring
John Audubon considered the wiring or details of what had happened.
as he swam toward the twisted neck and the broken boat body bobbed.
As he swam towards something with a twisted neck and a broken boat nearby that was bobbing in the water.
Examining the belly for the bullet's tiny piercing, he cried, "Oh!"
John Audubon examined something's belly for the tiny hole left by the bullet and gasped in surprise.
When a secret fluttered, a migrant hummer unlatched its grip.
A secret was revealed, causing a hummingbird to let go or release its grip.
Overhead his heart sped spooked and we splashed
Above them, the singer's heart raced with fear while they splashed through the water.
as the gail swung cold and some fish folded in the crest slap
In the cold, rough weather, fish flopped around and some died in the slapping waves' crests.
lapped at our heads, but we received it like a reprimand,
The waves crashed against our heads, but we perceived it as though we were being scolded and chastised.
too consumed by motion to perceive or understand.
We were too busy with our own movements and the chaos of the moment to fully comprehend what was happening around us.
John J. Audubon, his gifted replication.
John J. Audubon expertly and meticulously recreated something.
Painted with precision, perfect vision like the shot stain.
The painting was done with careful attention to detail and is as precise as the mark left by a bullet.
And the whole world swam in deaf anticipation
The entire world waited eagerly and expectantly for something.
till the goose fell like a shed shell
Finally, the goose fell to the ground like a discarded shell.
from which the humming secret sprang.
Despite the goose's fall, a secret - perhaps related to the hummingbird - was revealed.
Contributed by Annabelle D. Suggest a correction in the comments below.