FOUR​.​FOUR: 4​/​4

by Heather Christian & The Arbornauts

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Rule thumbnail
Rule An automatic purchase, HC&tA are so wonderful Favorite track: Why Aren't You Even Trying to be a Montague.
Jen thumbnail
Jen This series is an adventure in Wonderland. Leaves you with no doubt that music is art and songs a worthy part of literature. Favorite track: Tomorrow.
wrobbiescott thumbnail
wrobbiescott oeuvre complete! how i've enjoyed the unveiling... Favorite track: Wagon Wheel.
Paul Engel
Paul Engel thumbnail
Paul Engel My favorite song is Tomorrow, psychedelic in a She’s A Rainbow kind of way. Wagon Wheel is another favorite, a HC two-fer special where the outro feels like a whole new song. Influenza will drop you into a deep REM. Why Aren’t...Montague features the great guitar playing of Sasha Brown (check out Long Arc). The Wicked is fallen-soldier sadbeautiful and it hits like a bulls-eye in the humanity place of the heart, where in our next president, it is barren. Tidal's arrangement rises like a ... Favorite track: Tomorrow.
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Wagon Wheel 04:31
Little red colt, why you in the water? Little blue float snaking through the atmosphere Little blue streak descended on your daughter and I told her She’s heavy on the tongue And gonna need a wagon wheel Cardinal sin Cardinal direction Cardinal song is melancholy made of tin When your angel turns ghost and offers your intention But I told her is it worth the fun that now you don’t know how to feel Why you gotta run so far from me Why you gotta go so far ahead If there’s truth in secret to his alchemy, you’d be better dead You’d be better dead Silent as a kite dancing for a stranger Devil on the drone bartering a better deal Swallowing sighs, spitting at the ranger For once I’ve gone a little dumb pushing on the wagon wheel Soon you’ll be a quaking crow cacauphony who sees it fit to open close the sky and barks his orders hard back at the cavalry and you’d be better blind you’d be better blind Oooooooh It sounds like Ooooooooh It sounds like oooooooooh It sounds like ooooooooooh Try to do the thing instead Oooooooh—It sounds like Ooooooooh—It sounds like oooooooooh—It sounds like ooooooooooh— Try to do the thing instead
It is hard It is hard It is hard It is hard It is hard It is hard It is hard It is hard It is hard It is hard It is hard.
Hangman 02:33
Hangman cometh, Iceman, Shark your hand's too slippery, sound's too dark I’m falling falling falling falling way down Upside down and blue foot too The ticks too loud to fight with you And I’m alright I’m patient, too above ground So go and ask the paint man why all the navy and the gold and crimson You’re a turtle with a tiger’s eye You catch the brightening, the bold and dimming, why would you ever turn around again? (loolooloolooloolooloo) Road goes snaking out behind and up in front the dirt is mine my oyster, cloister, boisterous receiver Hatches open hanging out befall, believe me, see me out we’ll all remark your grace as you are leaving And you could have a good long cry Fill a moat so you can float down easy you’re a turtle with a tiger’s eye you catch the bellow in the hell bent season, why would you ever turn around again? (looloolooloolooloolooloo)
Macchu Pichu 03:59
I put up the Tower of Babel I put up the GW Bridge I put up the Great Wall of China I put up the Bonnet Carre I put up that high wall at Garrison I put up the mute nose-less Sphinx I put up St. Basil’s Cathedral I put up the Taj Mahal I build Macchu Picchu in candle sticks And Christ the Redeemer in foil I fill my own loch ness with toothpaste And tape Mont Michel to the wall I cart my own mammoths to Stone Henge I put up the Bandenburg gate I put up the Mount Eden Crater I am maybe too little too late
Influenza 02:18
Influenza feels like desire Alone in a room full of ghosts in my dreams Influenza has likely killed millions Probably made millions off weaklings like me Running down the highway Running to the sea I take my small dreams with me. Lost in the Congo, the world’s kind of ending The N Train still runs, though, through jungle and trees I’m trying to leave with my best friend, the weasel I feel too much love, though, to do much else but sing I turn into the highway I turn into the sea I take my small dreams with me.
Grounds gone cold and I let all the zinnias die My legs both broke and I don’t even remember why I’m calling out to you but You don’t even wanna try Don’t even wanna lay down and die with me up in this tomb The flowers dead son, cause I can’t seem to find my thumb It’s just my head some I never meant to call you dumb Flap your hands round and Tell me why you wouldn’t come Underneath the ground at Six foot one with me up tin this tomb Silence is a virtue In the case of mom and kings I got friends up in the dirt too When the stuff falls of the string You want someone whose better Gonna tell you what to do Take my pulse and wear my sweater Gonna ravel all of you The birds keep weaving and tie a marker round my feet I’m stuck believing We’ll never squirrel enough to eat Call me Sinker and say the rose was never sweet I’ll believe it when you’re reposing sweet with me up in this tomb
Sip O Water 01:08
back of my palatte is all aluminum one hard callous of valves and atriums space around it open wide space around it open wide felt and mallet to break the tedium twin machetes two peaks and tuning pins Once i’m ready I’m gonna use the things arms in iron open wide arms in iron fold inside mean and steady resolves the heroine Whatchoo gonna do now that summers gone once it throws a little ice on the lion in the fire who be wailing like a mother with a lizard tongue never got a sip a water for weather that’ll follow and she’ll rearrange the room around the sturm and drom making eyes at bernadette who gave her goodness back to jesus while the kitchen burns a kettle with a blackened lung never got a sip a water for the the weather that’ll follow never got a sip a water never anythingthing but hollow never got a sip a water never got a sip a water sip a feast the titan a maws another thing beasting and biting a soldier smoldering I got things I keep inside I got things I keep in side wait for lightning to wipe despite again.
Tomorrow 02:53
You draw an arrow straight home to me, sparrow, my train can run parralell, too At least part of the beauty of a map traced in 2-D is clear to the studious few And peace comes to the mathematic synthetic core, if I just keep on walking, I’ll arrive at your door, maybe tomorrow while the iron is still warm I can take half of the total times laughed off and scoffed at I’ve stashed them all down And pay with their currency, the four lives in front of me, the rest I can barter with sound, and what’s left in my coat pockets, for dinner we’ll share. And deaf blind and penniless, happy, stiff, scared of tomorrow and these things that I’ve bought Difference difference difference difference between Deference, reverence, sever its shoots on the bean Sanity, brevity, bravery, levity— these are the virtues are any restored or recorded or pored over once the romance of it leaves? Punch drunk and loaded, the black star imploded so why does the birthday girl sigh? Solace in energy and collective synnergy, I’ve robbed the guardians blind How many timbres can soothe me assured as completely as one breath and nary a word will tomorrow? Maybe none.
The Wicked 04:12
The farthest we go is Denver til first snow O Samson, Delilah and Job, the old names go hard. And what shall we see? some red dirt with white knees one lost prayer on last winter’s geese throwing lines ‘cross the yard. The shamed go unread, unnoted and un-heart-fed when I lay down, who’ll make my bed and help me back home? The field races on Won’t keep me or stay long Too bad I’m too wicked and wrong To put it down right.
Tidal 05:39
Somebody sing. Grab hold my throat and pray for my freedom. One quarter’s gone to sleep and phone calls and keeping the lights on. Love is a tyrant who is short with me who took my arms and elbows for his debts but if I could still reach the lever to this wind machine I’d blow us both back far as we could get And somewhere deep, my blood speaks english and I am half crazy Lions in tow — once wicked and line drawn right now is hazy Maybe you’re just a song I sing for company And nothing’s gonna matter come the dawn so fall on me and die if it suits you formally I will follow you till we’ve stripped these shores to stone I will follow you till we’ve stripped these shores to stone Go and hide your kids beneath the cellar door Go and draw a map back to your bed Go get right with God and settle your score The tide is gonna take you now instead I’ve been a Tidal, Tidal Wave heavy, my boom hits ground again Sending the old towns to their graves Massive, unquantified by men I’ve been a Tidal, Tidal Wave And no one’s the wiser And no one’s the wiser And no one’s the wiser And no one’s the wiser And no one’s the wiser And no one’s the wiser And no one’s the wiser And no one’s the wiser


The FOUR.FOUR EP series is a seasonal EP collection (Winter thru Fall) that documents a calendar year in the evolution of building and tuning a home studio and living through the seasons as they come. Radiators have been left in. Traffic and mistakes and piano bench squeaks and everything else plays as it was always meant to be there. This EP is a pop-surrealist Vivaldi experiment into what a season does to the heart, but also serves as our sonic snapshot, a love note in super 8, during a year the Arbornauts finally started to build the Arbor and had to learn, over time, to use it.

This EP, 4/4 serves as Fall.


released December 20, 2016

Songs and the Singing of them: Heather Christian

Guitars: Sasha Brown

Cellos and Basses: Josh Myers

Drums: Matt Bogdanow

Flutes, Music Boxes, Tambourines, Choral Quails and Fluff-crap: Heather Christian

Additional Voices on "Wagon Wheel": Jill Frutkin, Jason Craig, Jessica Jetliffe, Manda Martin, Meg Kelly, Matt Hubbs, Amber Renee Gray, Angus and Charlie. (thank you for coming over on Halloween and singing in my living room in a costume.)

Additional Voices on "Tomorrow" : Josh Myers

French Horn on "The Wicked" : Matt Marks

Co-Lyricist on "Why are You Even Trying To Be A Montague" : Jill Frutkin

Recorded in The Arbor, Beacon NY

Mix: Matt Hubbs

Master: Tim Boyce

Special Thanks again to Dylan Carrow for building the perfect Arbor mic,
Stowe Nelson for lending us what we don't have yet
Jill Frutkin for being the Patty Boyd of the Arbor


all rights reserved



Heather Christian & The Arbornauts Beacon, New York

An Arbornaut is a three way cross between a flying squirrel, an astronaut, and an angel. I know one as soon as I spot one. They are naturally occuring in nature. I had a dream about them once and started a band. We are a choir and we are an orchestra. We are disgruntled classical musicians & believers in musical traditions of feeling lots of things. This is the noise from the inside of a root. ... more

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