When he was growing up in Mississippi, Richard Upchurch remembers waiting for a certain song by R.E.M. to come on the radio. He’d quickly hit the record button on his boombox so he could replay it afterward.
Upchurch soon realized he could use the tape recorder to entertain himself in other ways. He would “jibber-jabber” into the microphone and figure out creative ways to manipulate his voice.
“Those little tape-drag moments, with rewind and fast forward—that was fascinating to me,” says Upchurch.
In 2010, Upchurch wanted to share this childhood experience with his nephew, who at that point was only familiar with toys that had prerecorded noises. Unable to find a cheap tape recorder, he took matters into his own hands and built a “really rudimentary” version—”It was probably a fire hazard at the time,” he jokes—and placed it inside a wooden box.
It was a hit, and not just with his nephew. Upchurch built five more for his nephew’s teachers and classmates to use at show and tell. That first machine ultimately served as the prototype for Chicken Nose, which consists of a record button, a playback button, and a pitch knob for speeding up or slowing down the sound.
What started out as a hobby has quickly turned into a career. For the past two years, the 41-year-old Upchurch has been making sound gadgets full-time in Red Hook, Brooklyn, under the name BrandNewNoise. His collection has increased twelvefold to include many other voice recorders, thumb pianos, and percussion-based devices.
This is the beauty of BrandNewNoise’s musical machines, which Upchurch prefers to call his “doodads.” Children get immense enjoyment out of manipulating the sounds with knobs from vintage ’60s-era amps (as opposed to toy knobs—“Little kids know the difference between what’s real and what isn’t,” Upchurch explains).
Upchurch runs all of his designs past his 11-year-old daughter Reagan, whose favorite color and penchant for mustaches defines Mr. Purple. She seems to have a great business sense, as that machine turned out to be a fan favorite. (“I sold the heck out of it,” Upchurch says.)
It’s not uncommon for Upchurch to hear from parents about the role BrandNewNoise machines play in their lives. There’s a girl named Samantha with special needs who plays with her Lil’ Mib voice recorder for multiple hours every day (“She’s done our battery testing for us,” says Upchurch with a laugh). Another girl sets her Lil’ Mib outside her bedroom door with a message for her little brother saying he’s not allowed to come in. A mother and son record messages for each other before bed and first thing in the morning.
And some of the biggest fans aren’t kids—world-class musicians are fond of the gadgets as well. Devo’s Mark Mothersbaugh used the kalimba-like Zoots in the studio while composing music for The Lego Movie. BrandNewNoise also released special-edition devices in collaboration with rock bands like the Black Keys and Tedeschi Trucks Band, and the artists themselves sign them all.
Upchurch believes that the handmade gadgets are “perfect for kids, couples, creative types, musicians, and the person who has everything.”
Regarding that last category, Upchurch says, “Most people don’t need anything. But what we do need is a little bit of laughter. We do need this idea of taking a break and just getting away from our daily grind. I think that’s part of that draw for the person who’s got everything: what they don’t have enough of, none of us have enough of, is a little bit of laughter and joy.”
What adds to the gadgets’ magic is “the impermanence of things,” says Upchurch. Each recording, up to 30 seconds long, can easily be lost or saved.
“I have emails from 2008 that have zero relevance,” Upchurch admits. “We save everything. All our voicemails. I really wanted something where as soon as you hit record again, it’s gone. So if you want it, you have to not hit record. You have to cherish that moment.”
Embarking on a ’10-year journey’
As a kid, Upchurch spent lots of time in his backyard that doubled as a national park, making forts and looking for arrowheads made by the Chickasaw people. He also enjoyed building and putting pieces together, whether it was with Erector Sets, Legos, or Lincoln Logs.
“I was a pretty arty kid,” says Upchurch. “I loved to paint and draw. Those are my tools.”
His interest in art continued into high school and college. His focus was in sculpture, primarily in wood and steel. Except for one time he recalls vividly.
“I made this perfectly round, plaster, egg-shaped thing,” says Upchurch. “It was translucent and really beautiful. It was about four feet—it was huge—and I wanted to make hundreds of them.”
There was one problem: he couldn’t duplicate the egg.
“I could never make another one,” he says. “I was completely obsessed. I did not sleep for months trying to make another one. Whether I loved that thing or not, I ended up destroying it because it had to be destroyed.”
Upchurch found different outlets for his creativity. He became the singer-songwriter for a North Carolina-based bluegrass rock band called Emma Gibbs, and for a decade, he toured all over the Southeast.
After 10 years, Upchurch was ready for a “sonic change.” In 2004, he headed to New York to pursue film scoring. He entered a master’s program at New York University for audio technology, excited to learn all about transitioning from analog to digital.
While taking a class on making circuitry, Upchurch had a revelation.
“I found this crossroads of my high school and college passion of art and being a sculptor,” he says. “It just kind of clicked. I found myself more interested in making hardware than developing software.”
Inside the BrandNewNoise workshop, Upchurch is surrounded by mason jars filled with knobs, buttons, and tiny circuit board components. Above the shelves is a large white poster board emblazoned with the words “Our Crew” and covered with photos of happy staffers and customers posing with the gadgets.
The BrandNewNoise team includes seven people, including Director of Outreach and Social Media Tanner Peterson, a senior in audio technology at NYU. Peterson, who started here when she was a freshman, “worked her way up from soldering circuits, to doing the woodwork, to helping me grow the business,” says Upchurch.
There’s also Greg McGuinness, the production and manufacturing manager. Though he “came in with little shop skills,” says Upchurch, he “really committed to learning the craft” and is now the main builder.
BrandNewNoise works with several organizations—such as Exalt Youth, Good Shepherd Services, and the International School of Brooklyn—that provide internships for local at-risk teenagers. Several former interns have since become full-time staffers.
“It’s exciting to see them come in, work hard, and they see that I had an idea and I followed it,” Upchurch says. “I stress the importance of a 10-year journey. It takes a long time, and it will never look the way you thought it was gonna look. I wanted to be a musician. Here I am all these years later: I’m still making music, in a much different way than I ever thought it would look.”
As how does it look now?
“The intention was never more than anything than to provide some type of joy to just one person—it was just for my nephew,” says Upchurch. “I wanted him to have that amazing experience I had. And it continued. I’m happy to see that being extended because in the end, the world has enough products. I’m not trying to make products. I’m trying to make something that has an impact on your life for a second.”
For 30 seconds, tops.
Photos: Lauren Kallen