Control

Audio: mp3 (listen while you read and look, for a multimedia extravaganza!)

In April of 2003, my music class required a final project consisting of a performance of a newly written song. For this I gathered the following squad: Bob played guitar and acted as "the instigator", Emily played Choose-a-Chord guitar and rhythm guitar, Amanda sang and played melodica, Ben played piano, Ed spun the Choose-a-Chord and operated the lights, and David operated the fog machine and headed up the Department of opening shaken-up soda bottles and dispensing whipped cream. I sang and played keyboard.

So the song that I wrote, "Control," was an ambitious project. The song itself was nothing all that special or complex, but the multitude of instruments, the stage decorations, and having only 15 minutes to set up, play, and take down, made it a challenge. Stuff we put on stage included several inflatable monkeys, some foam heads courtesy of the theater department, foam rectangular prisms from a video store, and big inflatable flamingo, palm tree, dolphin, and seashell.

At the beginning of the song everyone improvises, while David opens soda bottles and whipped cream canisters into a bucket for the "sssshhh" sounds you hear. Eventually the prerecorded drums start up (yeah yeah, as usual I could not get a real drummer) and beneath the cacophony, the organ's powerful tone rises. Gradually it overwhelms the other instruments as the drums pick up, until 2 minutes in, it all comes together. 45 seconds later it's gone again and the piano is all alone. At this point I begin to set up some of the styrofoam video boxes in a pyramid. Soon the guitar and melodica join the piano. I come in with some nonsequitur lyrics. Again we build and explode into the final section. At this point, something very strange starts happening. The drums cut out every measure or two for a seemingly random period, then come back, still in time. This is incredibly confusing, but amazingly everyone manages to hold it together fairly well. I formulate split-second theories about what is going on, remembering when 25 Suaves played at the Halfass and their beats were so loud it caused their CD player to skip--but if that were the case it wouldn't still be in time when it came back in. In any case it doesn't really matter, because it's almost time for "the instigator."

Bob ducks out for a moment and reappears with a Nerf blow gun, with which he proceeds to attack the other performers and the audience. Not having any of that, we return fire, throwing the monkeys, foam heads, and everything else we have at each other and the defenseless audience, while making a racket on our instruments. There is a new "ssshhh" sound, this time coming from the fog machine. Bob and I drop-kick two of the heads into the audience. Bob's shot hits an unidentified middle-aged woman, while mine goes straight for a guy with a really bored look on his face, who very slowly and nonchalantly lifts up his hand and catches it right next to his head. Finally we stop, and the audience, after looking befuddled for some time, manages some applause.

photography by David Zohrob.