Octopodes bring you pop music, but don't forget the blues

A capella isn't supposed to be cool. An uneasy feeling of doom should sink in when you attend a concert, sitting in those cramped plush seats with the unforgiving metal backs. You should be angry with the person who dragged you there, forcing you to listen to barbershop torture and butchered covers of Beatles songs. But none of that happens.

You end up anticipating the performances, the matching outfits, the songs you belt out when no one's around, the cute girls. But a capella isn't supposed to be cute. Maybe it should be cute to your mom, or your fifth grade teacher, but it isn't supposed to be cute to you. After all, isn't a capella for, well, nerds?

Sorry friend. Wrong group. Wrong mindset, wrong time. The only thing nerdy about the Octopodes is the pronunciation of their name (Ahk-top-o-dees), and even then, you're stretching. They may be hardcore about the music, sure, but wake up. This is Hopkins. Hardcore is what we do.

Octopodes, a 16 person a capella group on campus, is one of the best shows in town. Nerdy? Heck, if they were a movie score composer, they'd be Isaac Hayes. If they were a watch, they'd be a gold Rolex. If they were soup, they'd be vichyssoise. I'm talking Russia-in-the-winter here -- ice cool.

So what's the appeal? When did a capella ditch the red and white pinstripes and don the blue tops? Well I'm no bad mother, I've got a Seiko and I hate vichyssoise. But I can speculate, and I've come up with three theories.

Background

You've got a Chinese-Jew. That should be enough. But as far as diversity goes, Octopodes runs the gammut. They've got black, brown, yellow, white and really white. You've got kids who grew up singing their whole life, performing all over the map, and kids who've only performed in their showers.

"I actually hadn't sung until I joined Octopodes," said sophomore Alto Popi Benisch. "I can't read music at all. But Octopodes was willing to give me a chance just based on my audition."

Even the Octopodes president, junior percussionist Michael Vu, isn't really a singer. "I'm a musician first. I play the violin and I like music so much that I wanted to try something like Octopodes. The group was really good about helping me find a place, ensuring that I was able to contribute. I started picking up percussion and started beat boxing and I think it's helped me as a musician."

Beyond the singing and performing, there's actual music theory at work here. Members are able to draw in knowledge from voice lessons, performances in musicals and plays, church choirs, madrigals, even instrumental experience. Said freshman alto Erin Simpson: "There are only a couple of seniors and juniors, but a ton of underclassmen, so they are really interested in imparting their knowledge to us. It's like I'm getting a music theory education for free."

Familiarity

If you swing on by the Octopodes Web site, http://www.octopodes.org, and click on repertoire you'll be surprised to find songs that you like. From the Foo Fighters to Garbage, Duran Duran to Ozzy Osbourne, every semester the group works on arranging eight to ten new songs. It's a huge task even by hardcore standards.

Said sophomore baritone and assistant music director Steven Chen: "To choose a song to sing, every single person will bring in a list of four to five songs. A group of interested people will decide which ones are feasible for a capella. That list is then cut down to 40, and the group will meet to cut it down to 20. Then we have a karaoke night, where people will sing along to the songs. If a solo sounds really good, we'll start working on that song right away. After the karaoke, we meet together again, a final set list of eight to nine songs is decided on. The song is then sent out and people audition for solos. Once a soloist has been chosen, the song is then arranged."

Sound like a cake walk to you? Each person attends six hours of practice a week and that's the minimum amount of work they put in. I roomed across from Chen last year, and the nights he didn't spend singing and arranging were the nights I wasn't around to hear it. But the work load is almost never a question, and no one is complaining about spending too much time with the group.

"We want to keep our audience in mind, but we definitely look out for number one," said Vu. "We enjoy popular music and our audience really appreciates hearing us perform what they hear on the radio, but every now and then we bring a song in that people might not know, and we hope the audience appreciates it."

So while you might dig Linkin' Park, keep in mind the folks singing it do too. "It sort of hit me during intersession," said sophomore Mezzo Marian Smith, "We were all singing together, and you could see the looks on everyone's faces and it was like, look how much we love doing this."

"That you're able to take songs that everyone is familiar with and sing them a capella is just amazing," said senior bass and music director Eddy Morales.

Camaraderie

When sitting in on practices, you start to pick up on small things. Smith rarely takes her eyes off the music and keeps a strict focus throughout the practice. Benisch sticks her pinky finger out as she taps the beats on her leg. Sophomore Mezzo Suzie Jang usually sticks her hand in her back pocket when singing, occasionally slipping in and out of her shoes. Sophomore baritone Jeff Katzenstein will chew gum, slouch, and lean on whatever he can. There's a strong sense of individuality in the group and each member has an identity, but when the group comes together to sing, you hear a sum much greater than its parts.

Much of that comes from the feeling of belonging that the group provides. They're known for their group massages and comfortable attitude during try outs.

"The group came to my dorm and serenaded me to let me know I made it, and that was just the highlight of my life," says Simpson.

"We're really just like a family," says Vu. "You become so tight with the people in the group. I think I speak for all of us when I say we're friends first and a music group second."

Members often spend time outside of rehearsal with each other. They're lab partners, they sit next to each other in classes, they live in the same apartments, and they hang out over summers. If two or more members are at a party, expect them to challenge someone to a fierce game of flip cup. And you can hear that amity in their performance.

"If you don't like the person that you're singing with, it makes it really difficult," said junior bass Russ Frisby. "You tend to become really critical of each other's singing."

"If the members of the group get along, it will definitely increase communication, and that helps so much in blending songs and making arranging," said Chen.

"If we're running behind schedule, we're going to have extra rehearsals. It helps to have a real feeling of support. You couldn't do that if you weren't comfortable with the group."

Maybe the Octopodes really do reach out to people. Maybe you can hear their off-stage connections on stage. Maybe you'll relish recognizing the next song they perform. Maybe you'll start to appreciate this hard core bunch.

The Octopodes have a new CD coming out at their fall concert. The date is set for Nov. 23. They'll be the ones in blue.