The fliers for the band could be mistaken for enlarged bar codes. Even computer science majors could be confused by the series of ones and zeros, as they are not a real computer code.

But just ask the members of this eccentric band and they’ll tell you there is an order to the name, however arbitrary it may be.

“There is a very specific order and it is 11001010001,” says lead guitarist Jonathan Bovenmyer. “A lot of people have been calling us Binary, but that is completely unacceptable.”

Although Bovenmyer cares strongly about his band, founded about six years ago, it only takes a second for him to be ripped from his train of thought. As Charles Mingus plays in the background, Bovenmyer suddenly blurts out a series of “do-da-lee-doos” as he plays an “air saxophone” solo.

When this worshipful display is finished, the scruffy 25-year-old picks up where he left off.

“People ask me how they can remember how to say all the ones and zeros, and I tell them it’s not about saying the right sequence,” Bovenmyer says. “What matters is that you just list a bunch of ones and zeros with confidence.”

Since the group started in 1998, it has changed some, but that doesn’t matter now. What’s more interesting is how the band is keenly sensitive to the minute details of every sound.

“We’ve all lived in very old houses, so sound traveling through all the vents created a very interesting tonality with vibrations and such,” says Bovenmyer, who is also production director for KURE 88.5 FM.

Taking advantage of these natural sound effects, the band has even experimented with recording its music through air vents and laundry chutes. Bassist Aaron Alcott says the band has run mic chords up from one floor to the next through various passages, with multiple recording points to create a natural time delay.

Bovenmyer says some people find it hard to relate to.

“I don’t think most people in Ames understand what we’re doing,” he says. “I don’t even understand us sometimes.”

Alcott says most of 11001010001’s songs are 10 to 15 minutes long and emphasize intensity and noise. The members have been known to howl like wolves throughout the complex songs, which are made of simple parts.

“It’s like trying to build a house with just a few pieces of wood,” Bovenmyer says.

“Minimalism to the maximum,” adds drummer Matt Dake.

The members definitely care more about their own hands-on experiments with sound than catering to an audience or how coherent it is with reality.

“I don’t want to capture the sound of something perfectly. I’d rather make our interpretation of the thing,” Bovenmeyer says. “We’re more interested in making sonic paintings than making sonic photographs.”

The five members agree their music could be likened to abstract art. Radach suggests 11001010001 simply becomes a fake band.

“We are,” replies Bovenmyer. “We’ve been around for years and nobody knows about us.”

Random ramblings with members of 11001010001

What is the worst thing about scenesters?

How they care more about fashion than the music — Matt Dake

What do you hate most about the music industry?

That there’s too much of it — Jonathan Bovenmyer

What is your weirdest obsession?

Communist cameras — Bovenmyer

What is the greatest silly song title?

“Limp Bizkit Thinks They’re Black, but They’re Just Gay” by Anal Cunt — Aaron Alcott

What do you think of music genres?

Broad generalizations are OK, but that’s it — Dake