Anathallo, The Cotton Jones Basket Ride @ MSU Union Ballroom - 3/20/08

Nick Meador

It seems that lately I’ve made a habit out of bashing the MSU Residence Hall Association (RHA). The group occasionally arranges concerts on campus, but lately the shows have been sparse and poorly organized. The Anathallo concert was no exception. The only official news release came via Facebook on March 13, 2008 – one week before the show. The concert never even appeared on the RHA web site.

Naturally, I expected no more than 20 students and other mid-Michiganders to attend. But by some good fortune, the Union Ballroom became host to upwards of 100 people. Most of the credit can therefore be paid to Anathallo, a group that recently moved from Mt. Pleasant to the Midwestern metropolis of Chicago. Aside from the relocation, they’ve been touring like a flock of migratory waterfowl. That motivation – combined with the help of Internet promotion and their undeniable vigor on stage – completes the formula for a genuine grassroots development. Hence: a crowded venue.           

I walked in just as the Cotton Jones Basket Ride took the stage, which sadly meant that I missed Lansing locals Frontier Ruckus. My sadness was alleviated quickly by the chill sounds of this Maryland group, the side project of Page France’s Michael Nau. My first impression was one of late ‘60s and early ‘70s American blues, rock, and psychedelia – CCR and Cream, but especially the Doors. In fact, Nau’s voice often emulated Jim Morrison. Nau played a hollow-sounding Fender Telecaster, while his nearby companion played a hollow-body guitar.                 

To their stage left and rear were the bassist and drummer, and to their right sat Whitney McGraw, who played keyboard and occasionally sang. Throughout the set, she gazed at Nau with sultry eyes and rocked back and forth on her stool, as if she was envisioning unholy acts of sexual debauchery.                

Theirs is the tired sound of forgotten ghost towns in northern California. I like it when a band acknowledges their influences, either directly or indirectly. At the end of “To Death With You,” the band broke into a few bars of Mazzy Star’s “Fade Into You.”                 

These shows are a place for peaceful meditation and brief recluse from an ever-maddening outdoor realm. The combination of the lovely music and the fact that I hadn’t been to a concert in a while quickly put me into a trance. As I stood there watching Cotton Jones, my mind began to wander: “The Ballroom reminds me of The Shining – that part when all the blood comes rushing out of the elevator. These kids are so damn young, but at least there’s a whole bunch of them. I wonder how they got a hundred people to come to this show. Maybe the band just has a strong enough following to overcome lousy planning. The Mobius Band concert was empty. The band is young too. That’s a weird realization, when the bands you love are no longer beyond you in years. It’s unfair that girls get to carry around a bag with them everywhere, while I have to stuff my camera and other belongings into my coat pockets. It took me all these years to realize what a conservative nursery MSU really is. I’m not necessarily talking about the political concept. I’m talking more about life philosophies. MSU is breeding the future oblivious masses of the world, whose cares are limited to matters of salary and shopping mall tragedies. This institution can prepare you for a job in marketing or advertising or education, but not much else. I don’t even feel like videotaping this stuff. YouTube is becoming a digital litter box. It all disappears immediately…at least, the magic goes. While scribbling in my notebook, I am struck with the utterly neurotic nature of this music writing business. I say writing, not criticism, because ultimately I’m out here celebrating the music, not judging the musicians. But I’m hopelessly making the assumption that these words can have meaning to someone who wasn’t at the show. I want to buy a 7” from Cotton Jones, but $5 is a lot for two songs, even if it is honey butter plastered on blue- or green-shaded vinyl. They also have a Picturebook EP – an enormous spiral-bound creation, probably intended as an ironic reversal of the MP3 culture. But Whitney looks so sad, sitting there behind the merchandise table. When I asked how much the 7” costs, I should have told her that their music made me feel happy. I wonder if Canadian bands still have to wither away attempting to sell t-shirts and CDs, or if the FACTOR program of financial assistance gives them less to worry about.”           

I regained my attention as Anathallo came on to play, and I soon remembered why they’ve garnered a dedicated fan base. Sincerity and talent are still valued in the music biz, even in a time when the benefits of the Internet are jeopardized by corporations and media pigs. No wall can stop a tidal wave – and that’s a fitting term for this seven-member group’s music. They take their time building up with cooed vocals, soft-strummed guitars, and vibes, and then unleash upon hungry ears with crescendos of horns, drums and singing harmonies.                 

Anathallo take a very serious approach to music, and some critics have called that seriousness contrived. But even the band realizes this at times. And anyways, it’s all part of the show. The band laughs along with the crowd at the more ridiculous moments, like on “Hanasakajijii One: The Angry Neighbor,” when they start ranting about “slugs and bugs.” The audience can detect when an artist is genuine. That’s the essence of the indie revolution of the past six or seven years. Expectedly, the most dedicated fans shun bands that were once genuinely intimate, but abandoned their ways for mass commercialism.                  

Then I floated into thought again: “The singer has a beautiful Gibson guitar. I don’t play guitar so much anymore, but I’m still floored by their beauty. I love guitars the way people used to love cars. Whereas they drooled over a fireapple red convertible, I flip for a sunburst Les Paul Standard. I should really start playing again.”                 

Band leader Matthew Joynt kept the mood light with his humorous banter, despite the fact that he almost never opens his eyes on stage (just picture Linus, of Peanuts fame). Joynt led the movements, letting us know that “there’s a good vibe…without being too new-age-ey.” Joynt’s friend told him that, before Anathallo’s set, it looked like an airport lobby outside the ballroom. Joynt thought, as did I, that only a few students would be there, but he joked about it, saying he expected them to be at tables studying during the show.                  

Before a more sullen tune, Joynt said, “Now we’re going to take a slide into the depths of human depravity.” This literate, orchestrated approach to indie rock is winning over music lovers who are tired of worn-out simplicity. Their music is highly introspective, and yet they often ponder the nature of the world. Hopefully these strengths will be expounded on their upcoming release Canopy Glow.                 

Joynt explained that they used to play only 30-minute shows, but that they were playing longer for us. Regardless, the crowd still called for an encore, to which Joynt responded, “You’re going to regret this.” Alas, none of us did, and everyone went home with full reserves of musical satisfaction, ready to brave the long drought of live music until we can find a similar experience.

“John J. Audubon” - another new song

Questions or Comments?
Contact MusicEdge editor Nick Meador at meadorni@msu.edu