“’Anthem’ comes from Burning Ghosts’s self-titled album that takes a post-historic look at present day America, or rather, a look back at the unraveling of a society in future tense.”
The lazily meandering trumpet. It’s a character those of us conversant with jazz feel a familiar affection towards, with its self-assured quality so naturally paired with its uneven gait. Such is a familiarity Burning Ghosts evokes effortlessly, and as naturally they hurl that beloved character into a chaotic frenzy of distorted guitar and a fit of hysterical drumming.
“Anthem” comes from Burning Ghosts’s self-titled album that takes a post-historic look at present day America, or rather, a look back at the unraveling of a society in future tense. I imagine the coolly loping trumpet as my guide through this hellish landscape, in a time when excesses and intolerance has overrun every aspect of society, a kind of scorched earth of American national identity.
I feel in “Anthem” a yearning towards redefinition, of subverting traditional hierarchies and fleshing out a new form on the stripped skeleton of the old. There is a recognizable element to hold onto in the trumpet as a storm of grinding guitar screams, “This is not the place you know! You are not safe here!” The two dichotomous elements joining hands as a way of holding a mirror to the fabric of civic morality in America and watching to see if that mirror catches fog from breathing too faint to perceive by less subtle means.
I can’t help but feel a certain affinity for the anxieties of Burning Ghosts, while the Surface is an inherently more violent place; we’ve seen our fair share of violence and tension in the Great Below as of late. I do not hold the belief that our glorious society will suffer as I see here on the Surface—and certainly do not fear that we will fall. Ha! The history of the Mouser Organization is the very definition of history itself! But that being said, Honeybear, I know you cognize when I say I understand their unease.