Tentacle Pop

The Octopus Project Makes The Experimental Both Accessible And Fun

originally published August 15, 2007

Blame Trent Reznor. For everything. I do. Pretty Hate Machine (the first independent release to go platinum) was the harbinger of emotional hard knocks to come, or at least increased documentation of said hard knocks: Nine Inch Nails' success effectively boxed positivity in popular music into a corner. He had help - word up to Kurt Cobain - but Reznor's unabashed self-loathing set the stage for nü-metal, mall-punk emo and all other fashionable excuses for bro-down dudes to flagellate themselves (if not the women who are inevitably, supposedly, the source of their deep, deep pain).

And so, in the two thousand and seventh year of our Lord, "Music is Happiness" is the sort of song title that could get you in trouble. What is this, some kinda twee lollipop convention? Why wasn't I invited? Who didn't invite me? The sad truth is that a lot of musicians (as well as music listeners) deny themselves the inalienable right to bliss, that's right, bliss, and the Octopus Project delivers on that single's titular promise. The combined powers of Yvonne Lambert, Josh Lambert (yup, they're married), Ryan Figg and Toto Miranda bring the sort of gleeful Technicolor pop to the table that gives one the impression that hanging out in a recording studio all day is fun and/or easy.

It's hard to say where one bandmember begins and another ends, as no one on the roster seems too tied down to any particular station. Warm, fuzzy synths do hardcore pile-ups on top of shuffling percussion, some live, some not. It's the kind of music that Willy Wonka would approve of, and despite being mostly instrumental, the sincerity on the 2002 debut Identification Parade and 2005's One Ten Hundred Thousand Million is plenty tangible.

The group congealed through a series of inter-band nods and considerations in its original hometown of Houston (note the sizzurp-soaked "EEEAAASSSEEE BAAACCCCKKKKK" for evidence of some chopped-and-screwed influence), but currently calls Austin, TX, home. When pressed for some of the "hipsters-go-home" attitude that locals have displayed towards the yearly crush of industry types known as the South By Southwest Festival, mostly-drummer Miranda has nothing but positive reports from the frontline of his current homestead. "Because there's so much going on, there's more of a support structure, more opportunities to play, people are really in the mood for going out to see a band because they know there's always going to be somebody to see," he says. "It helps, if anything."

The band played a show at the Caledonia and at Tasty World in both 2004 and 2005, but hasn't been seen around these parts since; though YouTube clips showcase a whimsical live show with exuberance to spare, the band's unofficial standout is Yvonne, whose theremin skills are a thing to behold - this is no college-kid mess, we're talking some serious Clara Rockmore shit. The Octopus Project applies the age-old Phil Spector adage of studio-as-instrument to the new era of digital sound-bombing, with more-than-satisfactorily crunchy results. It all points suspiciously towards the "e" word. So, would the members agree with the Austin Chronicle's voting readers' assertion that they are, as of this past year, the best "experimental" band in their Texas hometown? "No, I don't think we would call ourselves that," says Miranda. "We're not the weirdest band out there, but we're not too standard either. We could fall into a lot of categories."

The band's tightrope walk between the bizarre and the accessible is particularly notable on The House of Apples and Eyeballs, last year's split release with Pennsylvania-based musical gumball machine Black Moth Super Rainbow. Examining the 16 tracks to see which jams belong to whom, a jarring surprise reveals itself: it's not a split release with separate contributions, but a collaboration.

"The guy who runs Graveface Records, who put out the split [and is Black Moth's label home], got in touch with us over the Internet, and so we checked out his label and the bands that he puts out," explains Miranda. "We really got into Black Moth's music, and I don't know whose idea it was that we do a split, but in the meantime, Black Moth had heard our music and were really excited about working together. We ended up putting the whole thing together trading files over the Internet and had the whole thing completed before we even met those guys."

This sort of pastiche-based songcraft wasn't alien to the Octopus Project, the members of which tend to swap ideas back and forth for each other's consideration, much like Paul McCartney and John Lennon submitted their songs to one another for editing and comment. "It's a lot more of a recording process, not so much in a studio so much as us at home," says Miranda. "I'll give one of the other guys a series of half-finished demos or they'll give some to me… kind of similar to what we did with Black Moth, only internally. We'll work independently and contribute ideas so we can all work on the tune."

The fruits of the group's most recent work arrive in the form of Hello, Avalanche, the forthcoming full-length on Peek-a-Boo Records which should hit on Oct. 9. Athens will be the band's second stop on a two-month-plus jaunt around the States, accompanied on various legs of the tour by Aesop Rock, Stereo Total and our own Cinemechanica. Basically, missing the Octopus Project at the 40 Watt is a great idea if you hate smiles, kittens and swimming.

Jeff Tobias

WHO: The Octopus Project, Cinemechanica, Loxsly
WHERE: 40 Watt Club
WHEN: Saturday, August 18
HOW MUCH: $6