MUTEMATH

EXPERIMENTAL Rock

by Bob Miller
Photo by Bob Miller

A bright red keytar gaining fame in the music world. Under the banner of experimental rock and elaborate instrumentation, New Orleans-based band Mutemath is bringing a fresh new sound to listeners of all backgrounds, and I must confess that I am mildly obsessed. When I first heard Mutemath was coming to Birmingham on March 8^th, I abandoned all of my non-fanatic tendencies and began counting off the days on my calendar. For a band with recent success in the secular music industry and lyrics that linger on themes of faith, Mutemath’s experimental rock is a rare gem for culture-minded believers. What’s more, watching a live Mutemath show is like witnessing two hours of ordered chaos run by in vintage clothing.

But Mutemath isn’t exactly your typical experimental rock band. With influences ranging from The Police and Vanilla Ice to Canadian rock and Brazilian rhythm, Mutemath’s sound is unique to say the least. And having opened for Mae and headlined with support acts The Working Title and Mat Kearney, these Louisiana rockers are attracting attention. Their self-titled debut album released in January of this year, developing a style previously established in the seven-song EP, Reset, from 2004. But even though the band boasts a fresh new album, Mutemath's greatest appeal comes on the stage.

With eccentric theatrics and a dominating stage presence, the popularity of Mutemath’s live performances precedes them. Their current set features a Stompesque percussion break in which mic stands, piano chairs, and metal trash can lids turn percussive as every member of the band dazzles fans with a perfectly crafted cadence. Homemade instruments, drum pyramids, live sampling and a bright red keytar are all hallmarks for a live Mutemath show. But even though some of the band’s on-stage theatrics are spontaneous, most of Mutemath’s stunts progress from show to show. I spoke with drummer Darren King about this after a concert in Huntsville, Alabama.

“Some of them don’t work and some of them do, you know. It’s sort of hit or miss,” King said. Three days earlier in Birmingham, King slipped off his shoes in the middle of the song “Plan B” and began frantically beating his snare and cymbals with them. “That one didn’t work,” he said. “It looked cool, you just couldn’t hear it.” King laughed as if he were only scratching the surface. “We just try to have fun.” For many fans, King’s fanatical drumming style makes him the Mutemath poster-child. Despite his acclaim, King was quick to point out his meager beginnings as a musician.

“Through playing a lot of really bad shows I began to get a little bit better on the drums,” he said. While living in Missouri, King said he developed a fascination with percussion after watching his childhood friend Greg Hill play in his youth group. Greg is now the guitarist for Mutemath.

“Greg and I grew up in church together,” he said, “and I would sit behind him cross-legged on the floor and watch him play the drums. Then I would go home. At that time in the 90s everybody wanted to be Michael Jordan. I was no exception, so I would collect basketballs from each year of summer camp and practice ball with them.” King laughed in reverie and continued in the story.

“I failed miserably at basketball. I was horrible…no talent or skill at all.” As an alternative, King said he stole a pair of drum sticks from his friend Greg and decided to ditch basketball altogether. “I took all of these basketballs which were otherwise useless and aired them out to different pitches. Then I would sit cheerleader style on the floor and play on the side of my bed as my hi-hat, the basketball with the most air as my snare drum, and so on. I did that for hours.”

At age 14, King met Paul Meany, a young and talented musician with a flare for creativity and an unmistakable feaux-hawk. King kept up with Meany throughout his involvement in various other bands, and before long King found himself auditioning for the Christian rock band.Earthsuit – Meany’s first big music venture. The audition was a disaster.

“I wasn’t very good,” he said. “I was a little hyper…and annoying.” It wasn’t until Earthsuit’s drummer left the band in October of 2000 that King decided to audition again – this time only for Paul. It was then that his famous relationship with duct tape began.

“I figured out I needed to keep my headphones on so I could move around,” he said. “So I taped the headphones on my head, auditioned for Earthsuit, and got the gig. I don’t know what gave me the gall to do it in that audition, but Paul was laughing, and I just did my best.” Since then, King’s black duct tape has been a staple of Mutemath’s live performances.

Mutemath’s musical freedom places them at the forefront of contemporary rock icons in both ability and creativity. For vocalist and frontman Paul Meany, the band’s concoction of electro alt-rock is a summation of years of musical influence.

“People ask how we make music, and I often have to immediately include a warning disclaimer: sometimes it’s best not to know how the bologna is made. My problem is that I like too many different types of music.”

Meany’s infatuation with hip-hop and rap first materialized in the 90s in the form of numerous short-lived rap groups. “I wanted to rap like Mr. Funky from Lords of the Underground and dance like Vanilla Ice, and by God did I ever try.” It was after buying his first sampler (an electronic device that segments samples of songs) that Meany really began to tap into the creativity that would be the heart of Mutemath’s music.

“I would spend hours upon hours just listening to music, searching for isolated instruments and drum breaks, and in that process I had my eyes opened to a whole new world of amazing music. It felt like I had just discovered the earth was actually round.” Before long Meany found himself poking out melodies on his family’s old piano, sampling, modifying, and rerecording tracks from various albums.

“I’ve always been intrigued by a song’s reproductive quality,” Meany said. “There are numerous songs that live inside other ones. When people ask me how I write a song, the only answer I can really give is ‘by listening.’”

Whatever Meany’s technique, one thing is certain: his band is definitely attracting new listeners. With a recent appearance on Craig Ferguson’s The Late Show and a review in Alternative Press Magazine, Mutemath is making great strides in the secular music world. And as a group of Christians, Mutemath sheds some refreshing light on the vague dichotomy between “Christian bands” and “Christians in a band.”

"I don’t want to be in a band that is marked by our faith,” bassist Roy Mitchell-Cardenas said following the concert in Huntsville. For Cardenas, making music as a believer shouldn’t imply performing solely for Christian audiences. “I became a Christian when I was 18. We’re all believers, and our lyrics deal with real things.” Cardenas said the problem with most Christian music today is that it fails to engage the culture that is in greatest need of its message. “I want to be in a band that speaks to a universal audience. But a lot of times we get a bad rap. People think we’re selling out.”

Cardenas joined the band in February of 2005 after playing in a jazz café with vocalist Paul Meany on Bourbon Street. Prior to that time, Cardenas played in a Christian band. “It was very fake most of the time, because you try to sell an image. I want to play with my heart and my passion and not worry about all that crap.” King said his faith plays a similar role in his music.

“I can take no credit for the lyrics…those are entirely Paul’s. But at the same time I am a believer, and I want to honor God through the way I make music. It gives me great joy to lose myself for hours at a time trying to work on a song. It has everything to do with the manner in which I go about doing it…the attitude I have while performing or while setting up, while doing an interview or anything of the sort. It seems like the slightest thing sometimes makes the difference. We are all believers, and I do in fact really want to honor God with my work.”

Regardless of criticism or praise, one thing is certain: Mutemath is attracting attention. If compelling stage presence and a unique sound don’t set Mutemath apart, the band’s unmistakable style does. Regularly donned in tight pants, vintage blazers and skinny ties, Mutemath has mastered the art of thrift store shopping.

“I myself am in need of some new duds,” King remarked backstage after the Huntsville show. Just then guitarist Greg Hill walked to the side of the stage and pointed out a dozen or so dents in his Fender Telecaster. He smirked and gave a proud nod. During the show Hill had taken a percussion mallet to his guitar. “The secret’s in the kid’s section,” he said, sporting tight jeans and a vintage jacket.

King nodded and continued, “Kid’s section if you can pull it off. Mine’s the women’s section.” He locked fingers with a young woman beside him and chuckled. “That’s why it’s so great to have a girlfriend now. She justifies that for me. I can go into the women’s section with her and nobody gives me that creepy look they used to give me.” He laughed again as he and his girlfriend exchanged glances.

“You don’t want to go thrift store shopping with same sex friends. There’s competition at that point. You want to go with someone of drastically different proportions.” King raised an index finger and nodded. “I’m really giving you the keys to the kingdom here now.”

Whatever the secret, whatever the style, Mutemath is making waves in the music world. With challenging lyrics and inspiring creativity, their fresh approach to faith and music is painting a future that seems as bright as… a red keytar.

To check out Mutemath’s music and tour dates, visit www.mutemath.com or www.myspace.com/mutemath.