Broadway play goes behind the music

“Stereophonic” is not a musical, but it’s easy to fall in love with the wonderful original rock songs that pulsate through it.

And author David Adjmi’s play, which opened Friday night at the John Golden Theater, is set in the mid-1970s, and Will Butler’s music sounds exactly like the music of that edgy era. It’s almost creepy.

The former Arcade Fire member’s impressive jam is melodious and raw. More naive than tricky. The best cross-country road trip content.

And in the end, tragedy strikes. We’ve seen tracks that the famous band spent a year painstakingly rehearsing and recording in two California studios, but never made it onto the final album.

It’s a poignant moment in the play, not perfect per se, but a keen understanding of what a determined artist will do in pursuit of perfection. Sometimes you have to kill the good guys to make room for the great ones. The results are abominable.

And “Stereophonic” is the result of 3 hours.

Broken relationships, violent tempers, 4 a.m. jobs, and an all-you-can-drink buffet of drugs and booze are here in Broadway’s Behind The Music.

A group of fictional British Americans — three men and two women — bear a striking resemblance to Fleetwood Mac. Rumor has it that the show was inspired by the 1975 production of “Rumours.”

It can be. who knows? But even if you don’t know anything about Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks, you won’t be confused.

We meet Alpha guitarist Peter (Tom Pesinka), the egoist leader who is dating singer Diana (Sarah Pidgeon). Eccentric bassist Reg (Will Brill) lives with keyboardist Holly (Juliana Canfield), dreaming of a quiet life and a nice house away from his bandmates. And drummer Simon’s (Chris Stack) family returns to England. Um oh.

Throughout 1976 and ’77, the quintet tweaked songs, bickered with each other, talked nonsense, slammed doors, rinsed, and repeated. Sound engineers Grover (Eli Gelb) and Charlie (Andrew R. Butler) are the few sane voices as the project becomes increasingly heated and time-consuming. For that matter, so is the show.

Adjmi’s plays are long – too long – because he attempts to accurately capture, in documentary form, an often mundane artistic process. Quite a few scenes can be spent adjusting drum cymbals and having singers redo sections over and over again. While getting high, Reg forever gives a flirtatious speech about houseboats.

That’s all well and good, but these parts of life don’t always capture the viewer’s attention. Some are simply luxurious. Other plays, such as Annie Baker’s The Flick, succeed in finding depth in the boring.

Still, Daniel Orkin’s Stereophonic is definitely a moving piece of work, and it’s nice to be able to soak in this creatively solid decade for a while. David Zinn’s neat set is the recording studio’s control room, with a soundproof booth hidden behind glass above the stage. It’s a subtle nod to his ’70s without turning into a full-fledged “Brady Bunch” kitchen.

The actors are so comfortable lounging and perching on the cushioned and carpeted steps, wearing boots and bell-bottoms, that it’s easy to imagine that these people spent a year of their lives in this claustrophobic space. There is no doubt about it. It clicks, as bands should, and the love and hate are palpable.

Yet the most fulfilling character to experience growth is actually Grover, the engineer, not the musician. In subtle but affecting ways, Gelb increases his confidence as he transitions from nobody to producer. He is the central character in this play.

However, it was Pigeon that fascinated me the most. In addition to his elusive rock singing ability that combines grit and kindness, Pigeon brings a fascinating mystery and yearning to his talented characters. Diana is clearly the star of the group, but she mysteriously doesn’t seem to know it until something special happens. Peshinka’s Peter becomes more and more angry as time passes and resents gifts from his girlfriend.

If you look closely, you might even see Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham reflected in the snow-covered hills.