By Rebecca Bulnes
By Laurie Charles
By Chuck Strouse
By Lee Zimmerman
By Laurie Charles
By Falyn Freyman
By Hans Morgenstern
Live shows are meant to be fun. Unless, of course, you happen to fall prey to a Yanni set. But an enjoyable live performance and full-tilt celebration aren't necessarily the same thing. The band Timothy Brownie understands this essential truth. And the benevolent spirit, who lent the members his patronage and name, knows it too.
"Rather than playing live, what we do is a ritual in which everyone is in communion through the magic brownies that we deliver from the teacher, Timothy Brownie," drummer Uriel del Toro explains. "It's more a ritual, a dance, a delight, a celebration."
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Not to worry — your confusion is understandable. We're taken aback too. But then del Toro elaborates a bit. "We're four friends who were summoned by the spirit of the great maestro Timothy Brownie, and we are the interpreters of his recipes," he says. Perhaps this talk of magnanimous spirits makes you think the band has been eating too many of those magic brownies. Or perhaps not. Who can say?
If the band's history helps you any, here are a few key plot points: Del Toro met guitarist and theremin player Andres Cruz in Uruguay and the two began playing music together, just to see what would come of it. They were soon joined by percussionist and keyboardist Gonzalo Sandoval and bassist Mariano Lanus. Later, sax man Javier "Chapa" Cavacini came into the fold. "And that's where the recipes began to be created," del Toro says.
"We were convened by Timothy Brownie," he continues. "Some in a dream, others on a trip, others in the climax of an orgasm.
"But obviously," the drummer amends mischievously, "when Timothy Brownie comes to you in the midst of an orgasm, it's not the nicest experience. That's what happened to Gonzalo [Sandoval]."
"It was really tough," Sandoval admits. "I didn't know how to react. We had to finish making love between the three of us. But we created an orgasmic melody. And that was when he directed me to Uriel and Andres."
Timothy Brownie — the band, not the spirit — is based in Mexico, though only del Toro, who is also a successful model, is Mexican-born. The rest of the members hail from parts of Argentina. And the great maestro... Well, he's sidereal.
You're probably wondering what music derived from far-off astral planes sounds like. The men of Timothy Brownie call it "electro-disco rooftop funk with Latin rhythm." And if that leaves you with only more questions, fear not. Del Toro offers additional answers, likening the band's evolution to the birth of an organism.
"The first stage of Timothy Brownie was like conception," he says, "when the sperm met the egg, and that was called 'organic music with electronic feeling.' There was an electro feel, but we created using organic instrumentation.
"In the stage where we find ourselves now," he continues, "we're like young children who've learned to speak. This is called 'electro-disco rooftop funk with Latin rhythm.'"
Perhaps you're still thinking about those magic brownies, though, wondering whether the bandmates will actually pass those out. "We know that the teacher has followers throughout the world," del Toro says. "So we know he'll put us in touch with a good pastry chef in Miami to help the cause."
Now, whether they're genuinely magic brownies remains to be seen. But Timothy Brownie promises to pull no punches. "It's the first time we take our music out of Mexico, which for us is huge," del Toro says. "And besides, Miami is a mecca of Latin music and art, and all the different disciplines of art, right?"