The Boston Typewriter Orchestra Turns the Sound of Work Into Music

Most of us have noticed this since the dawn of the 21st century, but there’s a trend in technological advancement that as soon as a new digital tool comes along to supplant a tried and true analog version, the old machines end up in the trash heap or Goodwill bins.

Eventually, however, those obsolete items that once defined American ingenuity and were vital to our very existence make their way to vintage stores and online auction sites where they are snapped up by an eager and younger generation who finds them kitschy, fascinating pieces of history. These old tools can also be a lot of fun to play with — think rotary phones, record players and the once tried and true workhorse of the American office — the manual typewriter.

In an era where flat screens do all the talking for us, there’s something hugely satisfying about the tactile sensation of putting hands on keys … or dials … or buttons and using fingers to physically manipulate an object to do something specific.

For one group of performers (yes, performers) based in Massachusetts, the manual typewriter is their preferred outdated mode of communication which they use, not as a machine to for crafting memos, but as a tool to make music.

Enter the Boston Typewriter Orchestra, musicians who use typewriters to jam (as in music, not the keys) in performances that are percussive, creative and, as one might expect, very rhythm-heavy.

This Saturday, BTO, as the group is familiarly known, comes to The Church in Sag Harbor to perform a 6 p.m. show. Two of the orchestra’s members — Brendan Emmett Quigley and James Brockman — recently shared some of the back story about BTO. And though the pair are both too young to have grown up relying on the typewriter for producing reports, they nonetheless came to this venture with some familiarity with it, more as a novelty than a necessity.

“I grew up with computers in the house since fourth grade — we were an early adoptive family for that,” said Quigley. “But my grandmother lived in New Haven and there were one or two typewriters in the house.

“As someone who loved Lincoln Logs and Legos and how things are built, in looking at a device it was fascinating to see that parts move. What does this little spinning thing do? I looked at the typewriter as an extension of Lincoln Logs and Legos toys.”

“I’m Gen X, but a young Gen X,” added Brockman. “We had a Smith Corona kicking around. I remember being allowed to type out reports on it. I also remember it being so hard — this is before I was accustomed to using a computer — lining it up to use the White Out. Like everyone else, then we got an Apple computer.

Beyond the functionality of the machine itself, there is something deeply satisfying about the aural characteristics of a manual typewriter — the clacking of keys, the ding of the bell and the return of the carriage. But it is the deep bass ca-thunk of hitting the shift key that really brings the percussive nature of typewriter as musical instrument into focus. In some particularly chunky, industrial strength models, that shift key can literally rattle the table — and when combined with other typewriters, rattle a room. It’s a sound that both Brockman and Quigley appreciate in their compositions, but unlike most musicians, they admit that they aren’t overly fussy about the provenance of their instruments.

“The age of our typewriters can be 100 years old to the 1960s and ’70’s,” Brockman explained. “We’re not purists, but they have to sound interesting. Too quiet is a no go. The best are the big old ones when they lift up and put down and the shift key makes that great sound.

“We’re open to donations. We’re very familiar with Craig’s List and eBay,” he added. “With typewriters, in general, it’s a problem now of more people finding out about them and driving up prices. We try to find the sweet spot and sometimes they need a lot of work.”

The Boston Typewriter Orchestra was founded in 2004. The group got its start by appearing at house parties, art galleries and street festivals. Over the years, they’ve expanded their fan base and have since appeared on local, national and international radio and television programs and in the documentary “California Typewriter,” which was screened at The Church on January 18. BTO also has five albums under its belt… er, ribbon, the most recent of which is “Delegation,” a collection of remixes.

“We’ve been on a library tear lately,” said Brockman.

Though the BTO has been the only typewriter orchestra in existence for the last two decades, Brockman notes that the use of typewriter as musical instrument isn’t entirely novel. Think Leroy Anderson’s famous 1953 composition “The Typewriter” or Dolly Parton’s 1980 hit “9 to 5,” for example.

“It’s not a wholly original idea,” admitted Brockman. “James and I are third generation members, but the idea was that when the first generation started it, they heard someone had created a fictional orchestra that layered typewriters and wondered if there was something there. I joined the group 18 years ago and BTO was basically a drum circle. I wanted to steer it toward more song structure because every band I’d been in was more song oriented.”

“It began as an art collective of nonmusicians and over the years, we’ve built a cohesive set list of songs,” added Quigley. “There was more comedy at first and it was ridiculous looking.”

Not that BTO has dispensed entirely with the humor in its performances. In fact, there is something of a fictional back story in that the musicians maintain an “office chic garb,” and the setting for their performances is described as “a corporate land before time where The Boss is never-present but always just around the corner.” The members themselves are portrayed as “corporate drones, who, despite their own self-inflicted wounds, still represent and celebrate disrupting the corporate monoculture from within.”

Sounds a bit like a DEVO-esque manifesto. And adding a subtle, crowning touch to the corporate aesthetic, the musicians’ individual profile photos are ID badges of the sort that look as if they might get you into an actual office tower in some unnamed large city.

As a musical group, the BTO is flexible and it functions with a rotating slate of performers, depending on who’s available. The orchestra’s members have day jobs and family commitments to contend with and there tends to be a certain nerd quotient among the players.

“A couple of us are librarians,” Brockman said. “Brendan is a crossword constructor and I work at Harvard.”

And there are always new players waiting in the wings for their chance to have a go at the keyboard.

“From the second generation on, when someone left the project or we needed a body to fill the vision, we all knew people who would want to be a member of the BTO,” Quigley said. “It’s like a cult.”

Brockman finds that six to eight performers is the ideal number for a show. Once they have been in the BTO, previous members of the group can always jump back in from time to time.

“The smallest show we ever did was four members, which was rough,” Quigley said. “The biggest one we did, I believe, was the Chris Webb goodbye show — I think there were 9 or 10 of us. We’re like the Hotel California — you’re a member for life, you see old friends if you come back for a one off, and some come back to stay on. It’s constantly morphing and we’re writing the rules as we go along.”

In terms of songwriting in the BTO, there’s a bit of trial and error involved, along with a lot of experimentation.

“At first, it’s all typing and then there’s an intention to make an identifiable verse and chorus. Someone has an idea and we riff on that,” Quigley explained. “They’ll say, ‘Oh, I made a weird noise with this typewriter,’ or ‘I’ve written lyrics and have a melody,’ or thirdly, we will attempt to do a pastiche of other songs that have existed. Those are the most interesting, because when we try to do a post punk or country song, we’ve forgotten we have no melody — it’s just rhythm oriented. I think, ‘I’m playing Joy Division, everyone knows it.’ Then I go to tap out a melody and they have no idea what you’re playing, so we do these pastiches. We think we’ve written a dubstep song and in attempting to will it into existence, it forces it. That’s how we write songs.

“We tell new members, there’s a learning curve in the beginning. When you don’t know what to do, just tap along to ‘Oye Cómo Va,’” he continued. “It sounds asinine to say that, but you add a new shade to it, then you find your way into it.”

“The evolution is looking at a typewriter and thinking how I can make a sound with it,” Quigley said. “Even after the death of a typewriter, it does have life.”

The Boston Typewriter Orchestra performs on Saturday, February 1, at 6 p.m. The BTO members are Derrik Albertelli, James Brockman, Eric Donohue, Alex Holman, Chris Keene, Giordana Mecagni and Brendan Quigley. Tickets are $20 (members $15, $10 ages 12 and under) at thechurchsagharbor.org. The Church is at 48 Madison Street in Sag Harbor.