Mason Proper is a Michigan-based five piece— comprised of Jonathan Visger, Zac Fineberg, Garrett Jones, Brian Konicek, and Matt Thompson— who make unavoidably catchy experimental pop music. Despite having formed post-high-school days in the small Michigan town of Alpena, the boys really made a name for themselves after setting up shop in neighboring Ypsilanti, where they cut their first album There is A Moth in Your Chest on the NYC indie-label Dovecote Records. Now joining forces with Chris Coady (famed producer for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and TV on the Radio) on their newest album Olly Oxen Free (September 23), the quintet recorded in a tiny wooden house outside Ann Arbor to create a cohesive and well-rounded second release, which includes playfully psychedelic tracks like “Friendship” to eerily atmospheric songs like “Safe for the Time Being.”

Before kicking off their extensive Fall tour in New York with a CMJ showcase for Dovecote (Oct 21), psychoPEDIA joined MP’s lead singer Visger to find out more about their quirkily-named small Michigan hometown:

What inspired the album title, and while you're at it, the name of the band?
The title is from the lyrics in the song, "In the Mirror." The term "olly olly oxen free" made everyone nostalgic and curious about its origins and thought that matched the feeling of the album. We’re also big fans of nonsense literature, like Edward Lear, Edward Gorey, and Lewis Carroll, and felt like it represented that influence well. The band is named for a very obscure phrase relating to Freemasonry. All that fun secret society stuff, you know?

Assuming that your town's name gets butchered often, what's the funniest pronunciation you've heard?
I've heard "Yip-soo-lan-tee" more than once. As if a tiny, overexcited dog were saying the name.

Is your sound influenced by the atmosphere of your hometown?
Michigan has a very down-to-earth sound that manifests in different ways. For Detroit, that real grime that permeates through the city makes its way into garage rock. Everything's dirty there, and most of the music takes on that flavor. In a lot of other places, there's a warmth that binds it. The scenes of Michigan are bonded more by real community than by sound usually. It's pretty accepted that being from Michigan, you're not poising yourself to be the hot thing everyone knows about, so it's more about having fun with your friends. At best, you're poising yourself to be buried in snow. You can take that as a metaphor. There's probably one in there.

How is the experience unique recording there?
We've always basically recorded ourselves in basements we were renting at the time. We prefer taking time and doing things our way, even if it's the wrong way, than being under the gun and recorded through the same $10,000 preamp as everyone else. There's a lot of "do something, then meditate on it for a while, then come back to it fresh" that we could never afford to do anywhere else.

What is Ypsilanti's claim to fame?
Iggy Pop? Or this huge tower in the center of Eastern Michigan University that's a major navigational landmark, but unfortunately looks like a giant phallic symbol.

How would you describe the underground scene budding in the area?
I'll combine Ypsilanti with Ann Arbor, because they're very closely linked. With two universities in immediately juxtaposed towns, every year, there are new transient bands, performance art groups, coming and going all the time. You could find something interesting to see every day of the week and never see the same thing twice, if you're really tapped in.

Favorite galleries or concert venues to see up-and-coming artists or bands?
For Ann Arbor, the Blind Pig is pretty much the place, and in Ypsilanti the Elbow Room is a mainstay. The Dreamland Theater is the place to go for things more out of the ordinary than just a band playing—weird puppet shows and stuff.

Favorite places to grab a bite in between recording sessions?
This one's easy: Big Ten Burrito. The original one is basically a closet where a couple bucks gets you a huge, amazing burrito. They've since expanded to have other locations in the area, but you can't beat this place. When I first moved to Ann Arbor, Matt told me, "I know a secret. Do you want to know?" And I said, "Is it sick? Why are you acting so weird?" Then he took me to Big Ten, and I was a changed man.

Are you big pizza fans, as Domino's was founded there?
Humans are big pizza fans, and we're humans, so yes. There are so many places to get good pizza in town. Backroom for a big greasy wonderful slice for almost free. I just had Pizza Pino for the first time today and it was superb. Mr. Pizza for a super late-night cheap large 2-topping. Pizza House if you've got a few extra bucks to spend. The list goes on and on. Domino's Farms is pretty creepy, though. It's this huge complex with buffalo roaming free outside, and eerie green lights all over the buildings. Someone told me there is a cult inside and they eat people? They also have a petting zoo there, and I don't think people with a petting zoo would eat people. Cannibalism and loving cutesy-wootsie baby animals don't usually go hand-in-hand.

What's one thing you can only get in Ypsilanti?
Potentially eaten by a petting zoo employee.

What's the first thing you'll do when you get home from the tour?
Fill the bathtub up with pennies and roll around in it. Probably more like fill a cereal bowl with pennies and put my face in it.

As smaller towns often do, does Ypsilanti have any crazy legends that get passed around the community?
There's a guy that has no face. I don't know if he's still here. Matt told me about him a long time ago, and saw him a bunch of times. I went out of my way to try to see him. I got obsessed. I was just so curious but never found him. Probably for the best.

What would you put in a time capsule to future Ypsilanti-ans?
One of those cans of nuts that a spring-coiled snake springs out of when you take the lid off.

~Leann Peterson