Justin Harris would like to take this moment to clarify some things about his band. The shorthand on the new Menomena record, Mines (Barsuk), concerns an outfit on the brink – three men at the end of their respective ropes with each other and the tense batch of songs documenting the turmoil. Harris more or less disputes this charge, chalking any rough-going up to normal human relations and dismissing a reference to “brutal disagreements” in their press materials as “a bit of an exaggeration.”

Appearing: September 25th at Metro in Chicago.

“We do have our moments, for sure,” he says, “but, like most relationships over a long period of time, I don’t think we [remember] well enough how to communicate with each other. The hardest part for us as a band is all trying to be on the same page at the same time. We go through stages where one or two of us will be super-excited and the other’s doing something else – it kind of moves around like that. Once touring ends, it takes a while for us to get on the same page.”

There’s also this bit, definitely self-perpetuated, that the band, as a concept, is bionic, or at the very least silicon-based. Depending on the article you read, all their music results from a Digital Looping Recorder (DLR or “Deeler”) that runs a program stemming from an old school project, or the Deeler just gets passed around when the trio are scrounging for ideas.

“It’s somewhat of a misunderstood concept in our band,” Harris explains. “Most people keep writing about it, but it’s not used in the writing/recording aspect of the actual albums. We do these little jam sessions when we practice and filter through stuff that catches our attention at the time that [we like]. I know in whatever I’ve read that seems to be this focal point. It’s misinformation, typically.”

So there you have it: Menomena – normal rock band.

Puh-leeze.

What makes the band such a bunch of farging weirdos is the utopian egalitarianism that’s become a forced/reviled dynamic, where each member demands fierce loyalty of the others while following his own creative whims. And the DLR might not be HAL 9000 or even Hal David, but it can’t be denied that Menomena’s relationship with technology is central to their very being. The intensity with which they use it requires everyone remain tethered and focused – an issue when Harris’ mates Brent Knopf and Danny Seim (each member sings; Knopf and Harris dabble in keys and guitars while Seim generally manages the percussion) both record solo projects, which delayed Mines incalculably.

“It’s not ideal,” he says, “but at the same time it’s better than the alternative of a big, monster Menomena where you can’t do any other projects. I think there’s a high level of understanding among all of us. But this is our bread-and-butter, so to speak, and why these solo projects [garner] awareness.”

– Steve Forstneger

To find out how it turned out, grab the September issue of Illinois Entertainer, available free throughout Chicagoland.

It’d be interesting to watch the members of Menomena daily — making toast, turning a television on, walking. A self-designed computer program gave them their first album, which came with an 80-page flipbook (the vinyl cover folded like origami). The critically acclaimed follow-up, Friend And Foe, continued with square-peg loops and was performed almost entirely via choir for its Portland, Oregon release party. They don’t do anything the easy way.

For Ramona Falls, vocalist Brent Knopf’s side-project, the “trend” continues. Knopf visited the houses of several Portland musician friends, jammed with them for hours, recorded the sessions, took them home and spliced them, and reassembled them into Intuit (Barsuk). Mildly arrogant title aside, the resulting sculpture is typically flawless. It’s eerie how Knopf has woven “Bellyfulla’”s parts to make it sound as if it were recorded live, never mind the clarity with which acoustic guitar and plucked violin punctuate the mix. “Russia,” which could be a sister track, offers no hint to the fuss that went into it. Menomena fans will, however, feel confronted with the relative straightforwardness of the arrangements, and possibly even put off by the thaw in Knopf’s pipes, which often sport a Michael Stipe quaver (“I Say Fever”). If only deriding Intuit were so easy.

Picture Books open.

– Steve Forstneger

Click here to download “I Say Fever.”

Right-wing bloggers are incensed. Leftist French laborers are kidnapping company executives. Stu, we need cleanup in aisle five! Can anybody hear me?! What in any god’s name is someone doing opening a nightclub in this climate?

Look: If we’re going to get any of President Barry’s stimulus moolah, we need to look despondent. Maybe sport gangrene or catch rabies. We can’t dial it up for late-night scenes. It has live music, you say? We’re listening. The LaSalle Power Co. bows May 1st in River North (the old Michael Jordan’s location) and redefines “nightclub” for downtown (no, it doesn’t suddenly mean “pear”). The 20,000-square-foot space spans three levels, including an intimate live stage, restaurant, and bar. With plans to showcase local and national talent, we may be forced to head back downtown for more than handouts.

I Am (Some Buddies)

A couple months ago we told you about the Chicago Noise Machine, a loose conglomeration of local bands including A Birdsong Valentine, Algren, Bullet Called Life, Echo Son, Heavy The Fall, Lucid Ground, Reverie, 72 Hours, and Simplistic Urge. Well, now these fellas done gone and made themselves a festival, one they’re calling the largest independent-artists party in the area. The single-day I AM Fest (Independent Arts & Music) goes down June 13th at Congress Theatre, and promises 25 bands (all local) and the same number of art/photography/film exhibits. CNM is hellbent on fostering a successful, thriving scene and this is just the next step in the revolution. For more information, visit www.iamfest.com.

R.I.P. Ripping?

By now you’ve heard: Capitol is finally unleashing remastered versions of all The Beatles‘ albums this fall to coincide with The Fabs’ own entry in the “Rock Band” video-game series. Most observers are calling this the music industry’s last big CD push, paying specific attention to the fact they aren’t rolling out refurbished albums one at a time, but dropping them all at once presumably so they can move on. Others have noticed a surge in reissues, with The Rolling Stones revisiting everything post-Exile On Main Street through 2005’s A Bigger Bang this June (a stitch that includes Sticky Fingers, Goats Head Soup, and Some Girls), and EMI purging the Radiohead vaults (see “Spins”). Sub Pop Records, that indie pillar, has upped its ante with bulky packages for Red Red Meat’s Bunny Gets Paid, a reunion-ready Vaselines, and a blowout of Sam Beam’s Iron & Wine archives. Us? We’re drafting our snotty “sounds better than MP3s” rant for when CDs hit a revival wave in 10 years.

Silky Smooth

Few people know this, but the pages that hold “File” every month are woven from the rarest Shanxi caterpillar silk. That in mind, when you come to the end of this month’s White Rabbits feature, we don’t want you tearing through this section to divine the origins of the Do-Division Festival. It more-or-less launches street-festival season in our minds, spanning Division Street from Ashland to Leavitt on May 30th and 31st, with two stages of indie-rock insobriety. We won’t mindlessly blow our way through silk to list all the bands, just that local DJ superstars Flosstradamus headline the first night with Handsome Furs, while the Rabbits provide direct support for Menomena to close.

– Steve Forstneger