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“It sounds like Prince getting beaten up by Ween on the Enterprise.”
“No, it sounds like Prince getting beaten up by Ween at Studio 54.”
Museum of Science is sitting in their basement studio, contemplating the sound
of their new CD.
Jon McCormack tries to remember what he wrote in their press release: “Chrystal
Method meets Parliament Funkadelic in Frank Zappa’s science class.”
However you say it, “How To Dismantle a Waste Fat Explosive,” the follow up to
their 2004 debut “Oblique Music for Soundtracks That Don’t Exist,” hits the
streets on Saturday, April 15, at a CD release show at the Dover Brick House.
Sixth Root will open, starting at 9 p.m.
The new 10-track disc was created as part of the Seacoast-wide RPM Challenge to
write and record an album in the month of February. It finds the trio digging
even deeper into their self-described “electro-soul-hip-hop-progressive-comedy”
niche.
“We went (into February) with the idea of ‘Let’s really create some messed up
stuff,’” says Sean LaRose, a.k.a. LeBaron, who contributes keyboards, bass and
computer programming.
“And what popped out was a Museum of Science recording,” finishes McCormack,
who plays a double-necked bass/guitar (custom built “to look like a spaceship
that crashed”) and is known onstage as MC Foodcourt.
“How To Dismantle a Waste Fat Explosive” features more of drummer Jamie
Perkins/Dr. Bunsen Honeyjones on vocals than on the previous release. The disc
also features a vacuum cleaner, a kazoo, a cat, some cowbell, a lot of samples
from the RPM orientation meeting, some guest spots for two-fifths of the band
Sixth Root, and the band’s only cover song, “N.H.’s A’ight If You Like
Science,” which Scissorfight apparently digs.
All three play in more traditional bands, including Starch, in which they play
together. Perkins’ bands, past and present, include Biscuit Heads, Stone Soup
and Famous, and McCormack has been with Fly Spinach Fly, Smoke Up jOhnny and
possibly Camarojuana, though his memory is fuzzy on that.
Including a computer as a member of MOS has allowed them to try a completely
different approach to making music.
Rather than writing and recording, they gather in LaRose’s basement studio in
Dover, compiling songs like a six-armed musical monkey, experimenting with
guitar or bass riffs, drum beats, self-sampled loops and found sounds,
assembling the music on the computer and recording as they go.
“We still start with the same ideas as a traditional band—a riff or a chord change,”
McCormack says. “But the way we compose it is more piece by piece. We don’t get
in a room together and record something. Or if we did, we’d end up chopping it
up.”
McCormack says he can trace a song’s creation by the stack of dated discs,
burned after each recording session, that float around his car.
“There will be these various mixes that may or may not make the final cut. Or
they’re altered. You get used to listening to the final album, then you go back
to an old disc and realize the song is completely different than (how it
started),” Perkins says.
Not everything works. The band once spent some time figuring out what mike to
use to record the sound of a fistful of wrenches being dropped on the floor,
which didn’t work so much. At other times, a song evolves out of a series of
happy accidents—like when Perkins arrived at the studio one day to find LaRose
trying to record samples from his vacuum cleaner, and “Heppa Filter” was born
(the last line of the song is a pleased Perkins noting “Hey, it actually
started smoking”).
Or a song develops in layers. “Republican Driveby” started when LaRose bought a
new keyboard. He tried out a keyboard line. “That’s cool, I’ll just lay that
down,” he thought to himself. Then Perkins showed up and liked it. “So Jamie
put down some drums,” LaRose continues. “Then the next step to that song was
the cat, Oscar. I had the keyboard set up in front of me on the keyboard stand.
Anytime we were down there, the cat would harass us and we’d harass the cat. So
I hit record and set the cat on the keyboard. There’s a line in the song, ‘And
this is the part where the cat played the keyboard,’ and that’s that line. That
was the basic structure to start with. But when you record that stuff, you can
move it around on the computer. So we cut up some of the drums, and moved that
around.” Perkins sat down and wrote some lyrics, and McCormack added the bass
and his own rant. “That particular song came together really fast. Maybe all
within a day,” LaRose says.
The special challenge for MOS is figuring out how to take a song live after
it’s been recorded. “For a long time, we didn’t think we’d be able to,” Perkins
says. But taking the computer on stage—with lots of cables and fingers
crossed—and playing live parts over the pre-recorded sound beds brings the
songs to life in a whole new way.
The first rehearsal for “Waste Fat,” in the band’s dimly lit, circa 1963
wood-paneled recording room, included more than a few raised eyebrows—as in,
“Hey, that wasn’t so bad.” And there were some moments of “Is that right?” and
“We’re going to have to figure that out.” To play “Waste Fat” songs live,
they’ll now have to mike Perkins for vocals. Overall, the rehearsal went better
than expected, though. More often than not, they seem to be performing and
thinking with a single brain.
Asked what distinguishes “Waste Fat” from their next album, due out in early
fall, McCormack says “The next album I think…” and Perkins finishes, “I think
is still going to be our best.”
How so?
“More dense and packed,” McCormack says.
“A little more accessible?” asks LaRose.
“I like to think a little more focused,” says Perkins.
“It’s going to be our ‘Purple Rain’,” McCormack concludes.
When asked if their compositional style, use of computer technology and the
fact that they seem to take everything as a joke disqualifies them as a “real
band,” McCormack seems truly offended.
“That question would imply that if you’re being funny you can’t be a real band,
but I grew up listening to Frank Zappa,” McCormick says. “Come see a live show
and you’ll know.”
Fan response backs him up. They band has been packing Seacoast shows and
occasionally playing in Boston and they picked up a Spotlight award on April 5
for “Best Alternative Band.”
So what does their music sound like?
When Perkins gave his mother “Oblique Music,” he says she told him, “I thought
there was something wrong with my car.”
LaRose tells of giving a disc to a woman who works at the counter at Café
Ciabatta.
“I get seizures,” she told him, laughing. “I couldn’t listen to it. It was
going to give me a seizure.”
LaRose’s reaction? “That’s awesome.”
Museum of Science
with Sixth Root
Dover Brick House
2 Orchard St., Dover
Saturday, April 15, 9 p.m., $3
603-749-3838
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