Gregory A. Perez

Seattle School's Korby Sears, left, and Mike Min.

It's actually good that no one can really describe what Seattle School's monthly Iron Composer shows are like. The point is to go and find out—in fact, the point is to go and actually become a part of the show. Conceived as a sort of songwriting/booze-drinking obstacle course, Iron Composer takes audience participation to its most illogical and wonderful conclusion while simultaneously undressing the stardom of pop culture and letting us all point and laugh at its underwear. But Korby Sears, a multi-instrumentalist who scores video games and hangs out in orchestra pits, and Mike Min, a self-taught composer and new media sound designer, aren't laughing at anyone, they're laughing with them. And when you go, so are you. Whether it's Tom Douglas showing up with a delivery tray of snacks, Reggie Watts showing his true colors, or your roommate, selected at random to go onstage and give the songwriters something meaty to write about, Sears and Min have been orchestrating the Iron Composer mayhem for over a year now. The trick—and the biggest clue to their genius—is that it never looks staged at all. And while it's clear that a lot of thinking has gone into every video clip and audio byte, the beauty of Iron Composer is that it's never bogged down with thinking. As we found out when the pair sat down for the Jukebox Jury, for two highly innovative and experienced performers, Min and Sears—who are also working on an Iron Composer television series—are not lofty about what they know and, perhaps more remarkably, they're not shy about what they don't know. Again, it's all about finding out.

Jello Biafra and the Melvins: "Islamic Bomb" (2004) from Never Breathe What You Can't See (Alternative Tentacles)

Seattle Weekly: How did you end up getting Jello Biafra and Wayne Kramer from the MC5 as your next guests for Iron Composer?

Korby Sears: Danny Bland at EMP used to manage the Supersuckers, and he's got a 25-year history of knowing everybody in the business. He called Jello on his cell phone and said "Hey, this is hilarious, you should do it." He has people that owe him favors, which is really cool. No one's ever owed me a damn favor in my life. So yeah, it's the same thing with Wayne Kramer, who I guess is a friend of his. A lot of our new booking now is from Danny's Rolodex, so we're lucky to have him. Having said that, we had a list of people that we wanted [for the show], and [Biafra] has been on it for quite some time. I always thought he'd be funny.

SW: And those guys are both coming to Seattle just to do Iron Composer?

Sears: As all people should, and all people will.

SW: How does that change things for you guys, to have these bigger names? Do you feel nervous, or . . . ?

Sears: No, no. You know, the older I get, the less I'm impressed with any kind of celebrity or whatever.

Mike Min: I just pity them actually.

Sears: Well, fame seems like a bitch, money doesn't. Money is awesome, but being known just looks annoying. I mean the show is pretty disrespectful to celebrities—that's kind of the whole point. Which can flip over; for instance we have Jerry Casale of Devo in the mix.

SW: What do you mean? For what?

Sears: Possibly Sept. 5, with Bumbershoot. Yeah, I'm like, "Great, Jerry's doing it," and then I'm like, "Wow, I kind of have to shit on Jerry Casale?"

Min: Because that's part of the deal.

Sears: I mean, how do you shit on Jello Biafra? You just do, because, I mean the whole show's like talking shit about celebrity. We don't care. Nobody takes themselves too seriously. So—nervous? I'm not. I could really care less.

SW: You did Iron Composer at the Crocodile Cafe for a while, but the EMP Sky Church's stage is a lot more imposing. You don't feel a little edgy about switching to a bigger venue?

Min: I don't think we've had time to feel anything. The logistics of this show have been so overwhelming that all of our attention seems to be on getting this show done, and I don't think we've had a chance to sit down and think, "Oh my God, we've got Jello Biafra."

Sears: Everybody who said yes to [participating in] the show has just been an affirmation that humanity's actually pretty cool. There's a lot of people that take the show too seriously, at a competitive angle. When somebody finally says yes it's like, wow, they're stepping into something that they don't understand. Especially people who have never seen the show, some people will step in and say yes, and it's pretty cool.

SW: Do you have a hard time explaining the concept to people? I have a hard time telling people about what you guys do.