Becoming So Clear
My brother and his dreams of getting into heaven
I am at my parent’s house in Atlanta, sitting at my old desk. Mason, passes by the doorway, each time I visit he seems less and less familiar. His arms are bigger, like tree limbs; he lifts weights. What’s up with yer face? I throw across the room. He checks out his reflection and says Dude, fuck pimples! I then ask if he has some time later, to sit down with me so I can tape him talking about his band, he agrees.
Mason, my younger brother, is now 16. A junior at Milton High School, he is more importantly the lead singer and guitarist of Becoming So Clear, a suburban Atlanta alternative/emo trio with a growing teenage fanclub of short skirted girls and parking lot stoners. BSC is not just a hobbyl; they play regular gigs at local bars and house parties, they have over 2,500 plays on Myspace, two Facebook groups in their honor, and a swarm of groupies loyally gathered at the edge of their stage and sending them love notes online. BSC’s current line up is Mason Alexander (16, vocals & guitar), Chris Bullock (16, guitar & keyboard), and Kenny Roberts (16, drums.)
The first question I had to ask was about the name of the band. What do you think of the name, what does it mean?
I think it’s good. It means a lot. I don’t know it’s about trying to figure shit out for yourself. It’s becoming so clear.
I tried again, But what is ‘becoming so clear’?
It is Everything said Mason.
I laughed. My brother’s answer was as empty as the band’s name.
As little kids, my brother and I tried piano lessons. We both quit pretty early on, but it was different a few years later when, at age 10, Mason picked up a guitar. He taught himself the chords and technique, learned new songs and started writing music and lyrics to his own. Mason has been involved with various music projects before, but he has never been as dedicated to one like Becoming So Clear. The band has been practicing, writing, recording, and performing together for about a year now. An archetype of a high school band, the guys face many of the same problems as those that came before them. They sit through long and boring school days and at night they work crappy part-time restaurant jobs, they save their money for recording time at a studio. There is also the usual romantic entanglements, inner-band fighting, and parental expectations to think about. Mason has no intention of heading off to University of Georgia, or any college at all, like the majority of the MHS class of 2009. College is the monster Scylla and whirlpool Charybdis he and his band mates must navigate beyond in their epic musical journey to fame.
To date, BSC has self-released only one single. The song was recorded this past summer, during a 12-hour session at End of Autumn Studios. While bringing their instruments and equipment into the studio, the boys had their first brush with musical royalty. As they were heading inside to lay down their very first track, local Atlanta rapper, Ludacris was exiting the studio after throwing down lyrics to the remix of Gucci Mane’s “Freaky Gurl”.
Becoming So Clear's single, “Alice”, is a simple upbeat pop song, it sounds a little 90's, like the Spin Doctors or Polaris (Nickelodeon’s Adventures of Pete & Pete), and is an allusion to Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. The song was featured on 99X station’s Sunday School, a radio showcase of local musicians. The chorus urges the listener “Don’t believe what they say, because they just want you to stay. Don’t fall asleep under that tree, just stay right here with me.”
"It’s really just about peer pressure,” says Mason, “… you don’t have to listen to anyone else, and you can do things for yourself. It’s a lot about people trying to get you to do drugs and shit. Everyone thinks Alice in Wonderland is about drugs, but really it’s about some girl’s adventure- and then these druggies are like, ‘the cat is acid, and the white rabbit is cocaine.’ No. It’s some girl who is confused and listening to a bunch of other people tell her what to do."
Listening to my brother talk about this song, I think that he is probably right, many of the people in his audience probably consider it a lyrical wink to high school drug use. But, in defiance of certain stereotypes, all the members of BSC claim that they do not use recreational drugs (note: I unable to find evidence supporting these claims.) When asked to describe the typical audience breakdown at a show, Mason has no problem, “mostly girls and pothead dudes. It’s nowhere in between, it is seriously just those two people. Some guys that drink and smoke weed and girls, all kinds of girls.”
By Milton high school standards, the band is fairly eclectic in their musical tastes and background. This may be part of the appeal to such a wide range of the underclassmen female population. The drummer, Kenny, is tall, blue-eyed and friendly; he listens to what he calls ‘hardcore’ music, like Bless the Fall and Chiodos and favors the double bass pedal. Chris, rhythm guitar and keyboards, is only a sophomore, a year below his band mates, he wears sunglasses indoors, listens to pop/punk, and is classically trained in piano. Mason is tall and lean, he wears tight t-shirts, tight ripped jeans, dark shaggy hair, and a smirk like Keaneau's in Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure. His favorite musicians are The Kooks, Elliott Smith, Circa Survive, and Jack Johnson. He is a showman: loud and confident on stage. At one point during every show, even those going particularly poorly, he commands the audience to clap their hands and sing along.
Mason worships Anthony Green, the singer/songwriter behind Circa Survive and Saosin. If you could meet Anthony Green and ask him anything, what would it be? I say.
Could I kiss you on the lips? he replies then laughs.
A meeting with Green two years ago at the annual The Warped Tour festival confirmed my brother’s plans to become a professional musician. Mason talked his way back behind the tour buses and smoked what was probably the best cigarette of his life with his songwriting idol. Mason composes the majority of the BSC’s lyrics, and besides Green, he is also inspired by the poetry of Charles Bukowski, Jim Morrison, and Elliott Smith.
What have been the best gig you’ve played so far and what made it better than any other? I ask.
The first time we played the Apache Café. ‘Alice’ had just come out, a bunch of people bought tickets, and there were people at Apache already. Everyone knew all the words, and everyone was singing along to our songs, and it just felt really good. Now we need finish the demo and put out more singles.
The band has not written new material for some time, instead focusing on perfecting their current set list. Occasionally, lyrics are reworked, as was the case after a particularly awkward Christmas card was received by BSC's keyboardist, Chris Bullock.
Our guitarists’ last girlfriend wrote him some hilarious letter, it was for Christmas. It all talks about some stupid shit and then the last two lines are, ‘I would tell you “I love you”, but can’t because I don’t- but maybe some day I will. Merry Christmas, baby’. We went and added those lines to this instrumental song we had.
Other than the heartbreak of high school relationships, other elements of everyday life seem work their way into the boy’s songs. Recently, the band’s former bassist, 17 year-old Kyle Pind, quit. Kyle’s abrupt departure eerily parallels the lyrics to the upcoming single, “Which Road Would You Take”, originally written to address teenage suicide. According to BSC, Kyle did not take his commitment to the band as seriously as his commitment to the Milton High School theater program and his goal of attending the Savannah College of Art and Design in the fall.
Being in a band is definitely our top priority, and it just wasn’t his. We’re not looking to get into state colleges and stuff right now.
The boys are currently looking for a new bassist, but in the mean time they continue making sweet music without Kyle, performing nearly every weekend at local venues and house parties. BSC works with Big Time Entertainment, which while most definitely a scam, it does provide the band with bi-monthly shows at somewhat respectable bars and smaller venues, including the Apache Café and the Red Light. Big Time requires that the band print and sell their own tickets to their performances, and in return the band only receives 30% of the profits from ticket sales. Mason and the guys agree that these venues are not ideal for their fan base; the bar’s regulars tend to be much older, and because the venue serves alcohol, the band can only perform earlier sets.
Next month, BSC has booked their first show at Swayze’s, a venue that attracts an offbeat teenage crowd.
But Swayze’s also gets lots of weirdoes I warned my brother.
Yea, but girls will go. Girls will definitely go. It’s harder to get the Masquerade, especially Heaven.
I once heard that one of the couches in Heaven once got set on fire and fell through Purgatory and down into Hell I say.
Another one of the goals of the band is to play the Masquerade, a decrepit, ramshackle but arguably awesome venue with three separate stages, Heaven (top floor), Purgatory (main floor), and Hell (the basement). Naturally, only the best bands get to play on top in Heaven, where Becoming So Clear intends on going.
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