The Everyday Visuals

Big Arrangements on Small Stages

By T. Blake Littwin

Photos by Gundi Fusson

Sometimes the distance between the front of the stage and the back wall at TT the Bear’s seems like mere inches. Sometimes being in the audience means enduring a sustained sonic assault that lacks definition, form or even a semblance of melody. This is not the case with Boston quintet The Everyday Visuals. Over the past three minutes, they’ve carefully unfolded “Her Breathing Is Music,” the opening song of their set. The stage is packed with a large Fender Rhodes e-piano, three guitar amps, a bass rig, a second keyboard and, of course, a drum set tucked in the back. Drummer Joe Seiders triggers the glitchy drumbeat on his laptop computer, cutting it just in time as singer/guitarist Chris Pappas breathes the opening verse into his microphone. The beat returns, backed now by a few ambient threads of noise courtesy of guitarists Kyle Fredrickson and Eli Scheer. Bassist Chris Zembower shifts from side to side as Pappas delivers another line. Then it happens — a sudden explosion as the song kicks in on a wave of guitars, drums, bass and a four-part harmony that pushes the sound into the realm of pure technicolor. It’s overwhelming in the best way imaginable.

With the advent of affordable, professional-quality recording gear, ambitious arrangements have become commonplace for bands looking to expand their sounds. The music industry has moved far beyond the early days of cramming full bands and backing tracks onto four analog tracks. Track space is no longer an issue (nor is studio time) for those who’ve learned industry standard recording programs such as Pro Tools, Digital Performer, Logic or even Apple’s free Garageband. A reasonable recording setup, a few microphones and understanding neighbors open the door for near limitless songwriting and production efforts. The only complication comes when bands attempt to adapt heir complex songs in a live setting. This translation from studio to stage has typically involved a great deal of paring down and simplification.

Not so much for The Everyday Visuals, however. The Bostonby- way-of-New-Hampshire group has elevated their live performances to a level that most bands only fantasize about. In the studio, the group draws on electronic flourishes and 1960s pop production techniques for their recordings. Electronic beats and synthesizer lines mix with traditional guitars and drums. There are quieter acoustic moments, songs with extra percussion and an abundance of layered harmonies. Not a surprising mix for a band that has been known to cover the Beach Boys’ 1966 production masterpiece Pet Sounds from time to time.The surprising thing is that all these recorded elements make it to the stage. The resulting sound brings the songs from 2004’s Media Crush and 2007’s Things Will Look Up into a whole new light, maintaining the complexity of the recordings while injecting them with the immediacy and volume of a live setting.

The songs in question generally trace their origins back to lead singer Chris Pappas. “What happens is I’ll bring the songs to the guys,” he explains. “I’ll more or less have at least a few ideas about where I want the song to end up. Sometimes I’ll know what I want for a drum parts, guitar riffs, etc. Other times, I’ll just have chords and lyrics and scattered ideas. They really focus the song — I always like to use the analogy that I bake the cake, they frost it. Not that its a great analogy, I just love cake.”

Knowing that the live version of a song will hold up to the expectations set by the recorded version allows for freer song writing. “While I’m writing I always picture how this would work live, or production notes for when we record it,” says Pappas. “I’m not sure if that affects the song in any way — I just plan ahead.”

The Everyday Visuals benefit from having a wide range of talents throughout their lineup. Pappas, Scheer and Fredrickson all play guitar and keys and everyone contributes on vocals. With so many options, their complicated arrangements are often shaped by whomever has the quickest tongue. “A lot of times people will ‘call’ parts,” says Fredrickson.” If Eli hears a harmony that he likes, he’ll say ‘I want that one’.”

“Sometimes it comes right down to who can play it,” Pappas continues. “I’m not lighting the world on fire with my guitar playing, so often guitar riffs that are a little tricky fall to Kyle.”

The duties within any given song are never set in stone. Over the course of a song’s life, roles may change. “We all love to change it up — that’s really where playing live is fun,” says Pappas. “I always picture our shows as if we were walking into a thrift store and there is a pile of instruments, we each rummage through, find something we want to play and see if we can make some music together.”

Delegating parts is clearly not the beginning and end of establishing a layered and powerful live presence. Bringing a show of this complexity to fruition requires a certain amount of practice and familial assistance. “Rehearsal, for us, is a strange thing,” says Zembower. “We definitely try to remember there is such a thing as rehearsing too much. Also, over the years, we’ve found that its not so much how much you rehearse — it’s how you rehearse.”

Seiders agrees. “What we usually do before a tour is rehearse once and we’ll run a bunch of songs without vocals, then with vocals. Sometimes, we’ll have just harmony rehearsals with an acoustic guitar.” He laughs. “What I guess I’m basically saying is we don’t rehearse.” The complicated arrangements on stage would be a flood of noise in the hands of an inexperienced sound person. Every song requires its own treatment and levels, from the pounding rock of “New Year” to the Wilson-esque subtleties of “I’ll Take It All In Stride.” The Everyday Visuals have removed at least one variable from the live equation by employing someone close to the band. “We are very fortunate to have friends and family really believe in what we do,” says Pappas. “For example, our sound guy, Dan, is Joe’s brother. He learned sound because we really loved having him around, and he wanted to be involved. Now, he runs sound at a bunch of clubs, and for a bunch of bands. We love keeping everything in house.”

The band’s live show has evolved over time, shifting and changing with the recording and release of each album. “It comes in waves,” says Fredrickson. “When we make a record, there are a lot of new songs and so the live shows are a little more planned and rehearsed. The best part is when the songs are a little more worn and comfortable. That’s the time when we get to really change things up live.” This situation leads to a delicate balance of familiarity and experimentation. “I think any band would say that the last show of their tour is always the best one,” says Seiders. “That’s where we like to get with the material and our live show. Loose, with this feeling that there is a chance we may not make it through it.”

With such an ambitious setup, The Everyday Visuals have taken on an inherent level of risk. Beyond the obvious threat of human error, there i the added unpredictability of multiple instruments and vintage gear. “The worst is when technical difficulties bring down a show,” laments Pappas. “There is such a helpless feeling. I would rather play a bad show than be playing a good show and have the sound board blow up, or something. I would rather own the mistakes I make and at least have the chance to make it better through the set. With technical stuff, you have no control over it, you can’t make the monitors sound better — you can’t make your amp work if it shits the bed.”

Recording advances have allowed bedroom composers to assemble digital symphonies, to single-handedly take on the work of a dozen musicians in the confines of their home studio. Songwriters and bands are now limited by time and effort not tracks and technology. Yet very few have accomplished what The Everyday Visuals have in bringing the depth and intricacy of their recordings to the stage.

Yet at the heart of the band’s impressive live show is a simple ethos that has made everything else possible: an unwavering belief in the music they are playing. “Every show that has either failed or succeeded has hinged on two things,”

says Pappas. “One: Are you playing for your audience? And Two: Do you mean it?”

“There is a voyeuristic element to a live show,” he continues. “People want to see that the artist is feeling what they are feeing. As an audience member we want to see that process of catharsis, we want to go through it with the artist. You aren’t going to get that experience by singing about things that you don’t mean, or playing without sweating.”

www.theeverydayvisuals.com