It’s never easy to park in New York’s Lower East Side, particularly on the corner of Bowery and Delancey, and Lotus’ Jesse Miller is learning the hard way. Luckily he’s brought along someone with “crazy parking skills” who’s in the process of squeezing the Lotus van and requisite trailer between a fire zone and parked car directly outside The Bowery Ballroom.

Along with most of his band, he’s huddled on the sidewalk this cold November afternoon, visibly tired from a high-profile gig the night before (with DFA artist The Juan Maclean), watching his tires rub slowly against the curb. Relief is near: Lotus is just a few hours away from the final night of its current tour, a crosscountry marathon that has helped place the group at  the head of the livetronica scene’s current class.

“No one’s selling as many albums as they used to, so it’s a lot more important to get out there and perform,” a reserved Miller admits, sipping coffee near the Bowery a little while later. “And I think we’ve all seen our share of really boring guys on laptops.”

Though the band follows the same grassroots model the Grateful Dead perfected a decade before Lotus’ eldest member was born, few groups have brought that blueprint into the 21st century so successfully: innovative touring, collaborating with DJs on remixes and, perhaps most interesting, figuring out how to simultaneously make waves in the jam, indie and electronica scenes thanks to a series of well-crafted albums.

“We definitely might turn some heads when we play Hookahville,” he continues. “At the same time, when [more indie-centric] audiences think jam, they think the worst. But whenever we can get in front of a lot of people, it’s a good thing.”

Like many of their peers, Lotus’ Steve Clemens (drums), Mike Rempel (guitar) and Luke Miller (guitar) started playing music together in the late 1990s, first at a Mennonite summer camp and later at Indiana’s Goshen College. Soon after, bassist Jesse Miller, Luke’s twin brother, transferred to Goshen to complete the group’s initial lineup. At the time, the college party scene was ruled by Phish-inspired jambands and rave acts, though groups like Sound Tribe Sector 9, the Disco Biscuits and Lake Trout had already started to find a happy medium between the divergent genres. Lotus spent a few years playing what Miller sheepishly describes as “funk/jam music,” before recruiting percussionist Chuck Morris in 2001, shifting their focus to instrumental music and discovering electronic pioneers like The Orb.

“The Orb blew our minds,” the Millers say almost in unison. “At the beginning, we didn’t have any electronic equipment, but we were influenced by minimal,layered and more ambient stuff,” says Jesse. “So, we brought in Chuck as another way to layer things.” The group earned a regional fanbase in the Midwest and slowly expanded its instrumentation to include an arsenal of synthesizers, samplers and electronic percussion.

In 2002, after college, Lotus relocated to Philadelphia, a city which had become the country’s de facto livetronica
clubhouse, and began to focus on music fulltime. Befriending local heroes like the Biscuits, The Ally and Brothers Past, the quintet became a fixture on the jamband festival circuit. In short order, the group hit the road, released a few albums and even scored a New Groove of the Year Jammy nomination for Nomad. “Ultimately, I think we are a rock band because you’ll see Lotus play in clubs and theatres, but not at dancehalls,” Miller said in 2004. “[But] we don’t do many things I associate with jam music, as in goofy lyrics, eclectic styles or lots of cover songs.”

Indeed, while its live shows remain decidedly improvisational, inside the studio the band’s playing is much more structured. “We approached it in a different way,” Luke says of the group’s 2006 breakthrough disc, The Strength of Weak Ties. “We were doing everything in pieces and kind of writing the compositions as we were recording them. We’d start off with just drums and then cut beats from that...it was a pretty electronic approach. In some ways, it succeeded and other ways I think it failed, but it definitely got some unique results, like ‘Tip of the Tongue.’”

The album also employed a number of vocal samples which the group continues to utilize onstage. “When I would see Galactic and Houseman would sing, it always seemed a little strange,” Jesse admits. “I feel the same way when bands have guests. I think it takes away from the energy of the whole group. That’s why we’ve normally kept it to the five of us onstage.

“I always look back to Talking Heads whenever I’m stuck,” he continues.

“They have the simplest dance groove and then extended them through the method.” “They were this amazing funk machine, but it had that white suburban edge to it, like us,” Luke interjects.

If the group’s studio recordings piqued some interest outside the scene, slots at marquee jam festivals like Wakarusa, Camp Bisco and Jam on the River solidified the group’s reputation amongst jamband loyalists.

So, in certain ways, it makes sense that Lotus followed up The Strength of Weak Ties with a live album. “We multi-tracked a few shows and then started looking for the good jams,” Luke says. “We knew there were certain jam vehicles that were strong, but not necessarily studio songs. And then there were certain songs that we were saving for the studio. Then we just filled in the gaps.” The double-disc Escaping Sargasso Sea hit stores last May, followed by Copy/Paste/Repeat featuring remixes by The Juan Maclean, DJ Harry, Telepath and Jesse Miller himself.

Though the quintet is spread across Philadelphia, Pittsburgh and Colorado, the Millers e-mail song ideas and demos to their bandmates and Morris will compile and plug new sounds into his sampler like an artist preparing his paint. The group is also putting the final touches on its next studio project, which the Millers describe as more layered, dance- and loop-oriented and full of traditional rock guitar.

Before Lotus takes the stage at the Bowery that night in front of a sold-out audience that is unlikely aware of the group’s earlier parking troubles, DJ Harry warms up the crowd with his remix of “Tip of the Tongue.” A few eager fans turn their heads and begin humming the song’s recontextualized melody.

“It’s funny,” Luke smiles. “Sometimes I’ll just hear someone humming one of our melodies, just repeating these random notes in this order. It kind of freaks me out, but I dig it ‘cause that’s the goal: Letting people do with it what they want.”