Lots of artists have alter egos. Sir Paul is the Fireman. Prince was a serif. XTC posed as Dukes of the Stratosphere, and three fourths of REM masqueraded as Hindu Love Gods with Warren Zevon. Even Bob Dylan morphs into Jack Frost behind the console. When Stephen Brodsky is on leave from the acclaimed alt-metal outfit Cave In, he makes music in the Octave Museum.
“Going by occupation” states Brodsky, “I’d have to insert the term ‘salvage baler.’ At my job, one of the tasks is to make eight hundred pound bales of second hand clothing for storage. Each article of cloth colors these massive cubes differently. Making music in The Octave Museum is similar - but you replace the articles of clothing with albums, so all the squares are singing with harmonies instead.”
Co-conspiring with Johnny Northrup on bass / Casio SK-1, and drummer / percussionist Kevin Shurtleff, the Octave Museum emerges as a concise cosmic pop opera. Akin to the lo-fidelity neo-psychedelic yearnings of Olivia Tremor Control, Neutral Milk Hotel, Apples In Stereo, and Spaceman 3, Brodsky and company employ a myriad of trippy trappings to pure pop songs for modern peoples. All the ingredients needed to turn on, tune in, and drop out in the 21st century are in abundance as fuzzy guitars, cavernous echoes, space sounds, and self-conscious lyrics float effortlessly in and out of the mix.
Brodsky delights in playing word games describing his other-worldly collection and newfound collaborations. “It’s the aural delight of trusty gloss provided by (engineers) Andrew Schneider’s tech work, combined with a masterful Nick Zambello outer coating…and of course, the actual playing and performances underneath the cookie-crumble in the Octave Museum birthday cake surprise! Carvel can’t even hold a spoon to it….”
Clocking in at a mere thirty-five minutes, Museum pieces together Brodsky’s melodic musings with nary a moment of filler. The trio kicks out the jams aplenty between verse and chorus transitions, allowing ample room for each member to take the lead, sometimes simultaneously, as evidenced in the acid-drenched mayhem of the opening cut “Voice Electric.” Chimes Brodsky “Kevin nailed that in one take, without ever having heard the song. I explained him the basic concept of the tune and nodded the changes as the tape rolled on a four track machine. Masterful!”
Crooning a Beatle-esqe “yeah-yeah-yeah” over cacophonous guitars in “Kid Defender,” slapping odd-time signature breaks in the crooked waltz “Prove Myself,” and peppering the rhythm section’s pounding backbeat with shards of space-age sound effects that would do Joe Meek proud, Brodsky’s modus operandi with regard to recording and releasing records is as simple as it gets. “If I play someone a tune, and they can hum it back to me the next day, it usually gives me an inclination to get it out there even further and well beyond the CD-R one-off copies.”
Yet a life in rock ‘n’ roll is not as uncomplicated as Brodsky makes it out to be. “The Boston Herald recently ran a picture of me on the same page as a tabloid shot of Britney Spears with a giant black spot censoring her exposed vagina. I can imagine darker places to be!
Tom Semioli
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http://www.myspace.com/stephenbrodskymusic
http://www.hydrahead.com
Stephen Brodsky's Octave Museum's Self-Titled album is out now on Hydra Head Records.
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