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Beat-boxer pushes limits of music

by David Gunter Feature Correspondent
| August 2, 2015 7:00 AM

SANDPOINT — Call it what you want, but when Davey Mullen takes the stage, it's obvious that a full-blown musician is in the house.

How else would you describe a performer who can lay down a bass line, add a full drum set and then build upon that foundation with elements of World Percussion and Electronica all at once? That he can make all this music with no “traditional” musical instruments in sight only makes it more impressive.

The most common description for Mullen's art is beat-boxing — a phrase he accepts, but prefers to embellish just as freely as he does his own grooves.

“That's the name most people respond to, but I call it 'vocal percussion' or 'organic electronics' to give it a little pizzazz with the word play,” said Mullen, who, at 22, has been deep-diving into this musical form for the past four years. “It's kind of like the one-man band with a difference — it's the one-man band with no instruments.”

Mullen now goes by the stage name, Biobeat. When he started emulating the sounds of virtually any percussion instrument imaginable, however, he was Davey Mullen, standing in one of the rows of Jon Brownell's men's choir at Sandpoint High School. The ensemble was rehearsing an arrangement of “Summertime” and Mullen, already knowing his part as other sections went over theirs, broke into an impromptu beat-box break.

The choir director's reaction was dramatic: “Get down here!” he demanded of the student. But Brownell was not calling Mullen out; he was calling him over to the microphone. Talk about a defining moment — stepping up close to the mic changed everything, as if the young man's Muse had just strolled up and given him a kiss on the lips.

Next thing he knew, Mullen was a featured performer on the men's choir version of the famous Gershwin tune. His first time on stage as a vocal percussionist came soon after — a major venue, at that.

“It was at Disneyland,” he said. “And it was surreal.”

The audience loved it, as did the hometown crowd at that year's annual SHS Spring Fling concert. Mullen, buoyed by the sound of raucous applause, found his calling as Biobeat was born.

“After that, I started doing open mic nights and collaborating with other artists,” he said. “Then it just steamrolled.”

One of his earliest gigs found him onstage as a featured soloist at the Panida Theater. Once again, the response was over the top.

“That was like fueling the rocket ship,” said Mullen. “It just launched it.”

It's no coincidence that the musician was “that kid” growing up — a child with an uncanny ear for picking up and mimicking the sounds around him.

“That's how I got started,” he said. “I was the weird kid who walked around the house making noises.”

On cue, he snapped a middle finger against his cheek, creating the classic water drop sound effect.

In middle school, he joined legions of other boys who tried their hands at beat-boxing. Like most of his peers, his early attempts were on the sketchy side.

“That was me,” Mullen said. “I didn't excel at it. I was terrible.”

With men's choir as a catalyst and the stage as his goal, the vocal percussionist first worked on his craft in high school. These days, he approaches his music in the same way any dedicated artist does — with discipline and daily practice. Rehearsal starts immediately after waking up, Mullen said.

“I practice at least an hour a day,” he explained, adding that the morning practice regimen includes drilling things like rapid sixteenth-note patterns, working out bass lines, reviewing current material and working on technique. “If you're not striving, not learning new things, not moving forward, the polish doesn't hold up.

“Then I pick it back up after work with more structured stuff and new material.”

Even between rehearsals, part of his brain is always tuned to the beat-box channel, soaking in environmental sounds and the music around him.

“There's always some sort of musical arrangement being put together,” Mullen said. “There's no turning it off.”

Which, it would appear, is just fine with local audiences, who look forward to Biobeat sitting in with a DJ or jamming with a favorite band on stage.

“I love getting up on stage — I definitely have a passion for it,” the musician said. “That's where it really clicks, when it's flowing and people are going with the moment.”

Recently, Mullen has become a proponent of the “new school” beat-box movement. With roots in France, England and Bulgaria, the style is rooted more in electronic dance music, with less focus on familiar Hip Hop grooves. Discovering this new territory supercharged his interest and added to his sound library.

“The new school beat-box movement, as it's called, is people who are pushing the limits of what sounds the human moth can make,” Mullen said.

For the uninitiated, reactions to a Biobeat performance can range from “That's the coolest thing I've ever seen” to “That's just strange.” More often, the performer is approached by people who figure the musical form is some kind of parlor trick and, so, must be easy to learn.

“I get the question, 'How do you beat-box?' a lot,” said Mullen. “How do you answer that? There's no blueprint.

“I tell them it takes practice and dedication and working for hours and hours and hours.”

Probably not the response most aspiring beat-boxers were looking for. But Davey Mullen takes this stuff seriously. So much so, that, even without an audience, he would carry on with the hard labor of developing his art.

“If there was nobody left on the planet, I'd still wake up every morning and work on it,” he said. “But it's that 'click' — that moment when everyone's getting down with what you're doing — that's what it's all about for me. I love to see people light up because of what I do.”  

To hear examples of Biobeat in action, visit: https://www.reverbnation.com/biobeatbox