The Brother Kite Flies High

By C.D. Di Guardia

Photo by Lara Woolfson

Everything about Rhode Island’s The Brother Kite is big. In a time where most bands have on average 3.5 members, they have five. In a time where many bands are aspiring to the stripped-down garage sound, The Brother Kite says “to hell with it” and layers in an uncountable number of guitars, creating a certifiable wall of sound that would make members of The Arcade Fire blush with pride, and maybe a little envy.

According to founding members Jon Downs and Patrick Boutwell, this approach was always the idea.

“We had this sound in mind all along,” says Downs, glancing shortly at Boutwell, who is already nodding in response. The Brother Kite started as a musical collaboration between guitarists Downs and Boutwell, although their early roles seem more visionary than anything at this point.

Studio sleight-of-hand can only get a group so far, and the two musicians spent a couple of years creating the band that now sits together like the Brady Bunch — as though they have always been there.

Naturally, this five-person collective didn’t come together all at once; in truth, the process has taken around six years.

Downs and Boutwell, by their own account, grew up together in New Hampshire. Fresh out of high school, they began working together in 2001, taking part in what Boutwell describes as lots of bed- and living-room guitar sessions. Downs moved south, leap-frogging Massachusetts and landing in Rhode Island. Boutwell followed shortly thereafter. While they both played in other bands, the two complementary talents set about writing songs that didn’t quite fit in with the spirit of their “primary bands.” Over the next year, they added bassist Andrea Mason and guitarist Mark Howard.

The Brother Kite was now functioning as a certified band oddity — a four-person line-up with no drummer. Instead of walking the earth in search of the most rare of band musicians, they went to the studio to record their first release, thoughtfully titled thebrotherkite, a recording which required a yeoman’s effort from the multi-talented Boutwell. He tracked multiple guitars and a vast amount of vocal overdubs, as well as doubling up as the band’s drummer for this first recording.

The band knew that if they were to get a drummer, they needed a rather special one. It was not easy to find a drummer willing or able to play along with the pre-recorded tracks necessary to maintain the band’s huge sound.

While this dream had come to fruition in the studio, the band needed a shot of live energy, which arrived just in time. Shortly after recording thebrotherkite, the band found drummer Matt Rozzero, the fifth piece of the Brother Kite puzzle.

Rozzero, for his part, tried to see the band at one of their very first live shows before he joined them, if just to see the band. They would not let him. Rather, they intentionally kept the show quiet, mostly out of the first-show self-consciousness that will affect any new band — especially one as musically conscientious as this one.

“No one was allowed to go to the show. I tried, but no one would tell me about it,” moans the drummer in mock-distress, but Downs is quick to shoot back a retort: “We weren’t really all that good until you joined!” he exclaims, which seems to slightly sooth Rozzero, who looks back down, mumbling about who-would-have-a-show-for-no-one and things of the sort. But it’s all for the benefit of the rest of the band, who know that a backing track on an iPod could never offer as much entertainment.

While the creation of the line-up spanned years and various New England states, the cohesion between the five individuals is almost palpable — Rozzero is not the “new guy,” even though he actually is the new guy. Ditto for Mason, who is more “a part of the band” than simply “the girl.” The solidity of this band is evident in sight, as well as sound; while they don’t necessarily take the stage in a specific uniform, they do make a common theme of their dress, donning all white. There are no budding costume designers in this band. “Usually it’s whatever we can find,” says Downs. “Oh, and there has to be something for, you know,” he gestures towards the grinning Mason at the end. She’s not the girl, but she’s still a girl.

There doesn’t appear to be the sort of weird seam that a group can sometimes adopt, the wall between group image and personal image.

Individual dynamics still exist in this group, though: Rozzero makes and sustains his share of light-hearted remarks, Mason reaches over and straightens Downs’ hair and Boutwell sits in the very middle of the group, content to let Downs do the majority of the talking. In some ways, these relationships are blindly apparent, but they do not take over the band. Rozzero isn’t a Ringo-esque clown. Downs and Mason aren’t the Paul and Linda figures, and Boutwell isn’t the enigmatic Brian Wilson of the group.

While most of the Beach Boys’ Americana sentiments of surfing, girls and cars would seem daftly out of place in the contemporary world of The Brother Kite, the influence is more of a “style thing,” according to vocalist Boutwell. Indeed, the sound is there: richly layered male vocals, sometimes in unison, sometimes in harmony, flowing over and under and around the wall of other-sound created by guitarists Boutwell, Downs and Howard. An apt description of the band might be a “shoegazy Beach Boys.”

Three guitars alone are impressive before the overdubs. Downs says that it’s important to coordinate exactly who is going to do what, but the band seems to have a process.

“I’m ‘third-guitar,’“ he says in a self-effacing tone, but then he thinks about it; that doesn’t sound exactly right. He comes to a better description after some prodding.

“I do the most dancing, so I get the easiest parts,” he finally states.

The lead guitar parts are traded off by Boutwell and Howard, who must do slightly less dancing onstage than their compatriot. Howard’s joining the band was one of the more by-chance things that have happened in their short history. “I remember we didn’t even really want another guitar player at first,” recalls Mason, who had just officially joined the band at the time, “but then we ended up liking Mark so much.”

Downs admits that even three guitars is “barely enough” to approximate the full-on sound in the live situation, but each player seems totally in tune with their own parts and everything else going on onstage.

The three musicians are always careful to stay within their boundaries as prescribed by good taste. With so many guitars, says Downs, it’s important to know your role. “My sound is very mellow and supportive. I just try to fill up space,” he says. “Working with three guitars is tough and it can get exhausting if you don’t know your role in the scheme of things.”

He knows that the alternative simply wouldn’t suit the sound of The Brother Kite.

“Three guys blowing leads isn’t so good.”

The Brother Kite seems confident and ready for anything. They have successfully toured and are in the process of building their own rehearsal/recording studio in New Hampshire, which they insist is not too long a ride from their Providence base. The ability to see this sound through from its humble beginnings is just the first chapter of the story. Their new record, the appropriately titled Waiting For the Time To Be Right, is their first with the current line-up, and by all accounts, it’s a grand slam of sweet sonic bedlam that can take over a room in recorded format alone.

Part of the allure of the band is its ability to somehow inject personality and sentiment into the huge horizon of sound that is theirs. The challenge, it would seem, would be to keep these things on a personal level — no matter how many persons are involved.

Tracks such as “Simply Say My Name” are ushered in by a veritable platoon of guitars from all points in the sonic spectrum. The vocals shortly arrive, and they are legion — all iterations of Boutwell’s breathy-yet-dynamic vocal style. There remains something in this vast sound that still seems personal on some level. Even though it’s the sound of an army, it’s easy enough to see the whites of their eyes that we recognize them as one person, and we further recognize something from ourselves in the rank and file. It is then that we are free to realize that The Brother Kite isn’t just some large, impersonal wall of noise, rather it’s the parts and pieces and nooks and crannies of the wall that make it something truly worthwhile.

www.thebrotherkite.com