Every once in a while, there comes a band that breaks free from the restrictions of genre and the syndrome of being too cool for the common folk. Every once in a while, you find a band who combines explorative music with a quality sound that won't make your parents scratch their heads. From the grassroots of Louisiana, Mute Math is just such a story.
Mute Math has successfully created their signature sound by merging clear pop-rock elements, such as singable choruses and catchy guitar riffs, with that distinct, digitally synthesized sampling magic music fans have grown accustomed to during this decade. And it is very difficult to define. It includes a mix of the occasional soft jazz drumming, Coldplay-like organ swoons and ambient, dreamy guitar work with alternative rock distortion, reggae, punchy mathematical drumming and yes, even the keytar.
Vocalist Paul Meany and bassist Roy Mitchell-Cardenas left their previous group, Earthsuit, in 2001 and began looking for new members. In a drumming interview, current percussionist Darren King was reported to have broken his floor tom, knocked over cymbals, busted his sticks and blown the P.A. system with his sampler. The band knew they had reeled in a keeper.
The intensity that King brought to the group must have been contagious, because in addition to their unique, hip-hop-based-reggae-alternative-jazz rock, their live show is one to be reckoned with. Meany is liable to stand on his keys and jump from his piano at any moment, King duct-tapes headphones to his face so they won't fall off in moments of extreme drumming, Mitchell-Cardenas can be found beating a concert bass drum in the back of the stage and guitarist Greg Hill will always be standing sheepishly in the corner as the resident introvert. Clearly, the group has its idiosyncrasies.
After a summer of sold-out shows at Bonnaroo, Lollapalooza and the Warped Tour, Mute Math and Warner Brothers Records finally signed a deal. WB sat on the record for a year, trying to figure out how to market a band that wasn't playing by the rules. But after selling out across the country, the company was finally convinced to let Mute Math fly.
Now, on the heels of virtual nationwide tour success and a self-titled LP released last month, Mute Math is ready to make a name for themselves. Fans of The Police will recognize clear tributes to legendary rocker Sting, fans of rap-rock will find fat beats to crunk to and fans of indie and art music will have plenty to talk about over tea and patchouli.
The band has also managed to keep the spotlight without the pretension others radiate and refreshingly enough, to have the openness to interact with their audiences at shows. They do so without the tastelessness of a dime-a-dozen new bands trying to be this or that.
Additionally, Mute Math brings a consistent and unwavering message of the Christian faith, but one that does not limit them to the confines of "Christian bands." They are simply people with beliefs, who are out there making music like the rest of the world.
The sky seems to be the limit for Mute Math -- literally. They have even spoken of plans to play a concert on the moon. In the next five years, with international commercial space travel on the horizon, the possibility seems plausible for this group of alt-rockers.
Is refusing to play by the rules the new playing by the rules? Is personality and idiosyncratic sound the new marketable money-making music economy? Whatever it is, Mute Math has taken off. Don't count on a burn out any time soon. (Unless they are on re-entry from their space shuttle mission.)
Catch them this Friday at Starr Hill with opening bands Jonezetta and Shiny Toy Guns.
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