A Dream In Sound

The Success Of Mute Math's Synthy Sounds Has Surprised Everyone - Band Included

originally published October 18, 2006

A sleek tour bus with oversized tires pulling a covered trailer sits next to the Launchpad, a bar and music venue favored by young, trendy and thirsty kids in Albuquerque, NM. The vehicle is a monstrosity, stretching halfway down a block and, you can imagine, capable of sucking more gas than a Hummer laden with bricks. Inside, a youngish group of guys is milling around, chatting calmly and getting ready to take the stage.

Mute Math, the four-piece band from New Orleans that’s about to play to a small army of fans inside the Launchpad, is clearly excited to be here on the bus. The bandmembers recognize the novelty of the experience, and for good reason: Mutemath, their major label debut on Warner Bros., just hit the stores, and they’re presently in the midst of a tour that’s big enough to justify the luxurious gas guzzler.

“It just hit us yesterday, how long we’ve been touring,” says Paul Meany, singer and keytarist (that’s right, keytarist) for the synthy alt-rock group. “You put together a band, put together shows, put out an EP or whatever, but it’s amazing how much of a process it is that actually plays out.”

Granted, some bands experience even more rigors, only to have their dreams never play out the way Mute Math’s has. But Meany’s point is valid: labels and agents have been courting him since he was 15 years old, back when he was part of a rap trio called Trey Mob.

“We were two white guys and a Hispanic guy,” Meany recalls, now 15 years on. “We did our rap dressed in flannel and Doc Marten boots… very inspired by Vanilla Ice and 'In Living Color'.” The story goes that an A&R guy approached Meany after a talent show, made some promises, but never followed through on them.

Years of more almost-successes followed, including a stint with contemporary Christian art-rock group Earthsuit. That outfit, which included current Mute Math bassist Roy Mitchell, played a futuristic gumbo of musical styles that eventually landed the group a record deal with Sparrow Records.

The band ended up nearly broke as a result. Earthsuit released one very Jesus-heavy album, 2000’s Kaleidoscope Superior, which gained the band some exposure (one song was even featured on the MTV/WWE show "Tough Enough"), yet when sales didn’t live up to Sparrow’s expectations, the band found itself label-less and in debt. Earthsuit eventually broke up.

Meany, keytar in hand, remained undeterred. He and Mitchell, who had since moved to Miami to attend law school, founded Mute Math with Missourians Greg Hill (guitar) and Darrin King (drums). It would be a decidedly more mainstream venture, lacking the Jesus references that pigeonholed Earthsuit.

Although Mute Math was ready to drop the Christian association, its label Warner Bros. was not. Warner signed Mute Math to subsidiary Word Records and began marketing the group as a Christian rock group. That was in 2004. This didn’t bode well with Meany, who - although still a God-fearing guy - was honing a more secular sound and trying to reach broader audiences. Tension grew, and the band wound up suing Warner Bros., much to the chagrin of its Christian fanbase.

Tonight in Albuquerque, however, none of that seems to matter much. The band’s full-length album was eventually released by Warner Bros., and Mute Math got the tour bus. The show, mostly filled with kids in their teens and early 20s, is by all accounts a success. The band grinds through a long set (and an encore) of Police-influenced syncopated grooves and a smidgen of ’90s-era arena rock, heavy on the synths and layered rhythms (drummer King is often accompanied by a drum machine).

At the middle of the storm is Meany, the just-woke-up-haired, bombastic singer whose presence is electrifying and unavoidable. With every measure, the guy seems to amp up the band’s and the audience’s energy, bringing each song to a crescendo until everyone in the room is part of one swaying, sing-alonging mass.

The effect is kind of analogous to what Meany deems the band’s most prominent quality: the ability to create something out of nothing.

“The bands who are successful don’t put any limitations on themselves,” he says, as if to reference Mute Math’s past troubles with Warner Bros. and the “Christian act” tag. Touring isn’t enough, he says; neither is making a record or putting songs online (the band, unsurprisingly, has mercilessly worked MySpace.com to its advantage).

“You gotta go balls-out," he says. "You gotta do everything. You gotta somehow just make music, and create a whirlwind and hopefully become enough of a blip on someone’s radar, and maybe someone’ll check it out.”

And, if you have something to show for yourself, maybe you’ll get the tour bus, too.

Mark Sanders

WHO: Mute Math, The Whigs, Jonezetta
WHERE: 40 Watt Club
WHEN: Tuesday, October 24
HOW MUCH: $10 (advance), $12 (doors)