Short Circuit Solo

Jeff Boynton brings the dark art of circuit bending to L.A. ears.
by Laura Hauther

Deep in the valley, it’s over 110 degrees and stepping out of an air conditioned car feels like getting hit with a flame thrower. But that’s not stopping L.A.’s sultan of circuit bending, Jeff Boynton, from exploring three different thrift stores in search of noisy, cast-off kiddie toys. As he enters each musty-smelling shop, Jeff makes a beeline for the toy-shelves, carefully picking through the junkyard of childhoods-past to find that perfect toy for the million-dollar-man treatment. He can make anything sing.

Any toy lucky enough to be chosen is in for the ride of its life; it’s destined to be transformed from a ugly, plastic, racket-making kid plaything into a bizarre-looking, racket-making, adult plaything (and a musical instrument) through the dark magic of circuit bending.

As defined on the aptly named “Warranty Void” website, circuit bending means “to hack, modify, abuse the hardware of electronic sound toys or such instruments in completely different ways than their manufacturer has intended.” I think it’s safe to assume no manufacturer would recommend breaking into one of their beautifully designed, well-crafted, market-researched kiddie toys and laying into it with a soldering gun and Dremel tool; not to mention re-painting, re-packaging, crossing wires, breaking and remaking connections, adding all sort of levels, knobs and switches until the thing looks and sounds like the love child of Theremin and Stephen King.

“Right now I have more toys than I could ever hope to bend, but there are certain things I’ll automatically snatch up even if I have three or four already,” says Boynton. “You’re actually shortening the lifespan of a device when you bend it, more than once I’ve had something die on me right before a performance.”

Boynton, 49, started out as the kind of artist who plays instruments. He’s actually a classically trained musician with a penchant for the experimental. In 1978 he played in a punk band, Wazmo Nariz, opening for The Police, XTC, Devo and the B-52’s. His foray into the world of bent toys began when he started exploring ways to collaborate with his wife, Mona Jean, who is a dancer.

“I was interested in DIY electronic instruments and I came across an article on Reed Ghazala, who’s known as the father of circuit bending,” Boynton says. “Immediately I asked Mona if we had any old electronics or old noise-making toys. She dug out a box and I started poking around seeing what kind of noise they could make.”

The apocryphal story of bending’s birth goes all the way back to 1966 when Ghazala accidentally short-circuited a toy transistor amplifier against a metal object, resulting in some strangely wonderful, random sounds. But despite the art’s obvious appeal to techies and musicians alike, it took a good 35 years for a real community of avid benders to develop.

Now, the signs of a burgeoning Bending community are everywhere. New York has hosted an annual gathering, the Bent Festival, since 2004. Benders are putting out their own CD’s like the recently released compilation Noise and Toys Volume 1. A how-to book written by Reed Ghazala himself, Circuit Bending: Build Your Own Alien Instruments came out last August. Thanks to Boynton, Los Angeles can boast of The Highland Park Thursday Evening Gentlemen’s Society Circuit Bending Marching Band and Ladies Auxiliary. Boyton and fellow benders Derek Sajbel and Andy Ben form the core of the group, but any interested newbies are welcome to bring their thrift store finds for a lesson.

“A lot of the people who do bending grew up with electronic toys, so there’s a certain sense of nostalgia that makes it that much cooler,” Sajbel said in an interview during the New York Bent Festival.

You might have already seen Sajbel and the rest of Boynton’s crew (known as THPTEGSCBMBALA, for short) if you’ve gone to a parade lately. The Circuit Bending Marching Band has become a favorite on local parade routes, playing the Cinco De Mayo parade in Cypress Park, Highland Park’s Christmas parade and that magnet for all things strange and mobile, Pasadena’s Doo Dah Parade.

Everyone is encouraged to wear some version of blue and gold, but Boynton as bandleader gets to wear a tall, gold lamé turban and long blue cape. The eccentricity is amplified by the baby carriage he uses to carry one of his larger bent keyboards, a Casio MT 240 transformed into an instrument called “The Blue Meanie.” When this motley group of strange-looking, strange-sounding and very loud benders starts marching, the reaction is mixed—generally, children love it and their parents are confused.

Boynton has also done some serious pieces using his altered instruments. Last year he collaborated with celebrated L.A. choreographer Rudy Perez for a performance at the Red Cat Theater, and he’s performed in the first circuit bending orchestra, but he insists the heart of circuit bending is DIY.

“You don’t have to be a musician or know anything about electronics. It’s almost better if you don’t. Just get in there and start poking around and see what happens.” LAA

Boynton’s website can be found at www.blankstare.biz.