Random House

ATLAS SHRUGS: "Our songwriting and recording methods would make most musicians and engineers cringe," says Sean Byrne.

The Twin Atlas’ curious methods and haphazard road map to rock.

by Brian Howard

University departments of campus housing are not known for their stunning success rates in matching like-minded students in dormitories. But in the case of The Twin Atlas, things worked out uncannily well. In the fall of 1992 at the University of Delaware, Sean Byrne, Lucas Zaleski, Keith Allen and Bill Dodge -- all students with various musical aspirations -- were placed in a quad together. The four started a collaboration that exists to this day.

The Twin Atlas is a recording project -- and only recently, a live act -- consisting mainly of Byrne and Zaleski, with occasional contributions from their former roommates. With four Twin Atlas albums out, including two in the last six months, UDel's roommate-selection methods can be deemed a success.

While life has put the four onto separate paths, they've made a point of convening whenever possible. At first it was once a month, now it's closer to twice a year that Yalta -- the makeshift foursome's unofficial name -- converges. "And we just play," says Byrne, "just improvise."

Twin Atlas' two new albums, Bring Along the Weather (released in early 2003 on Tappersize Records) and Inside the Skate Scandal (released at the end of June on North of January), were born of a single recording session.

Zaleski and Byrne -- who's known around these parts as the drummer for the now-defunct New Jersey band Lenola and the once and occasional drummer for Philadelphia noise-pop outfit Mazarin -- have been able to get together more frequently, however, and have turned their weekend-at-a-time noodling sessions into something of a going concern. Their recordings as The Twin Atlas embody a subtle psychedelic folksiness, seat-of-the-pants pop sensibilities and autumnal mellowness, which speak to a collaborative ease that might only be possible as a result of a unique recording arrangement.

"The majority of the stuff with The Twin Atlas comes from weekends such as this where Luke will be [in Philadelphia] and each of us will have a couple of riffs or ideas, or we'll just make them up when we're here, and just record it," explains Byrne. "What I'm left with are tapes that are like two minutes of this idea, three minutes of this idea. I'll take them and try to figure out how to structure it -- where's the verse, where's the chorus."

They work with an 8-track recorder, filling up the first two tracks with their combined efforts, and leaving the remaining six for Byrne to experiment with. "Our songwriting and recording methods would make most musicians and engineers cringe," he figures. "It's a different way to get to the same point than traditional songwriters use."

While their methodology is something of a pastiche, it's hard to argue with the results. The songs feel as loose and carefree as if they sprung fully formed from the ether. On Skate Scandal's "The Game is Fixed," Byrne sings, above a sunshiny, mid-tempo guitar base, "You try to throw a curve inside but it swings away/ he hits the pitch right out the park 'cause/ because you try, you try too goddamned hard, and the game is fixed." On Weather's "Endings Away," he sings, "I love to see the nervous look upon your face/ because don't you know, if no one shows/ you're sure to give the ending away/ I'll stay to hear the lines you wrote for me to say."

Zaleski admits that he's often surprised with the results, when Byrne turns a part he didn't think was going to work into a nifty pop song. "It's always fun to finish stuff and play it for him and be like, 'Remember this one?'" says Byrne.

Their creative process often involves an initial unspoken feeling carrying through to the final product. "There's that one moment, before the noodling when you're just trying to funnel a certain amount of your honest energy into a song," says Zaleski. "Even if it's just a tempo, like 'I'm happy right now, we're having a good time,' why would I argue with the rhythm of that moment?"

But crafting pop songs in the living room with an 8-track is one thing. For Byrne, who has played the drums all his life, the thought of standing on stage with a guitar and singing was something close to petrifying.

"I consider myself a drummer first, and then a songwriter and after that, definitely not a guitarist," admits Byrne. "But it's been fulfilling to feel like I've developed my songwriting ability over the last few years."

So it's only been recently that The Twin Atlas has worked up the moxie to take the stage. During their total of six live shows (the first was a year ago at an informal apartment performance; the most recent was at Silk City as part of The Trouble With Sweeney's residency), they have, on occasion, brought old roommate Keith Allen (who's also contributed to a couple of recorded songs) on stage for support, and hope to one day get Dodge in on the act. And if that happens, will they whip out the old Yalta name? And will UDel's housing office get an invite?

For information on The Twin Atlas, visit www.thetwinatlas.com.