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Photograph courtesy of popularculturemusic.com
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Back in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, when classes let out at Webster University, at least a chunk of the student population drifted down to Old Orchard, where a crew of students and affiliates worked at places like the Webster Grill and, most importantly to the scene, Imo’s. Not just a pizza place, it was often the default spot to go for a beer and a pizza, and that pesky 21-rule for drinking was more of a guide than a rule. (Ladies and gentlemen, for your dining and drinking pleasure, it’s... Club Imo’s!)
In retrospect, it’s interesting that several, high-quality writers were found behind the counter, or in the kitchen, on a given afternoon, or evening. Among them: Spike Gillespie. After leaving St. Louis, she went onto a two-decade run as one of the leading voices of Austin, Texas, where she’s written in almost every form: essays, memoirs, rip-roaring blogs, some novels, video segments with KUT... really, the list goes on. We’ve kept in some touch over the years, just enough to keep up with what’s going on in her life.
And, for the better of the last decade, one of her many missions has been encouraging the musical output of her son, Henry Mowgli. I remember seeing him play a matinee show at an Austin club about a decade ago, but I actually really remember him as a tiny tot, sitting in a car seat on the Imo’s counter. He’s done a lot in the intervening couple decades. (Babies grow up! Crazy!) As young people will do, he’s found an artistic muse, in the form of his live-and-recording project, Popular Culture. The sound he’s creating bounces through a variety of styles and approaches and he’s recently taken that vision from the musical hotbed of Austin to New York. We’d invite you to sample just one piece of that with the video for "Dandelion:"
That’s where we start our conversation with one of our town’s emerging native sons...
You've left a pretty active music community to live in one that’s even larger and more competitive. Were your thoughts on moving primarily to experience another place in the world, to advance your music, or a combination of the two?
My thoughts on moving to New York were basic. I didn't, and still don't, have a solid plan, and that is where I find myself the happiest. I spent the better part of my life in Austin, and was ready for a change of pace. New York seemed like a good place to have a new record, and a significant change from Austin, so I decided to give it a shot. I do think that New York has a much larger music scene, but it seems negative to call it competitive. Maybe I am naive, but when I go out to see a show, I am not thinking “Here is a band I need to beat,” but instead, “Here is a band that I like.” In music, and many forms of art, the art and the artist's ego will suffer greatly if there is too strong a sense of competition. There are certainly a lot of people I am impressed by, and some even envious of, but if I were to say I was competing directly with someone, on something that I do mostly as therapy and survival, I think I would drive myself crazy.
Having played around Austin since you were a youngster, talk a bit about how the scene's changed in your time around it? And, if you don't mind, discuss some of the club experiences you had in your early teens.
I've played in a bunch of bands since I was around 13 years old, and the main change I've noticed in the Austin scene is that there seem to be less house shows, and less strange shows. I always thought those were the best. My first dive into the Austin music scene was with a cover band that would play birthday parties and professional venues, but we were riding very heavily on the "kid band" ticket, which was exciting at the time, but had a very clear expiration. Then, in high school, I took a songwriting class where every month we had to play a song that we had written in front of the class. I had no stage fright when playing other peoples’ songs, but was absolutely terrified to share something I had written myself. Looking back though, it was probably the best thing to happen to me as far as music goes. It got to the point where I had basically dropped out of high school, but would still come to that one class and leave after an hour. I owe a lot to Mr. Schneider for helping me do that. After getting more comfortable, everything started to get stranger. When I was around 16 years old, a few friends and I were very driven and focused on booking shows everywhere but clubs. We would meet in parking lots and walk half a mile into a creek to play a show with no electricity. We would play shows in bedrooms where only five people would come, but those were some of the greatest shows I can remember. We learned the hard way not to start a generator inside a Laundromat, and had multiple shows shut down by the police. This is all a hazy memory of around the time that Popular Culture started. One night we had planned to do a show in construction site for some lofts that were being built. We found a small room, three floors underground with lights and electricity 24 hours a day. As a 16-year-old, this was as close to heaven as you could get. The plan was to have everyone meet at the Taco Bell nearby, and when the room was all set up with a PA and amplifiers, everyone would walk down at the same time, in order to not draw a lot of attention. Apparently we weren't careful enough, though, when bringing all the equipment down the parking garage. It was me, and one other person, and a car full of equipment, three stories underground when we heard another vehicle pulling into the garage, which was f****** terrifying. In a moment of panic, both of us hid, completely disregarding the fact that there was a bunch of equipment and a car sitting in the middle of an unbuilt building. Thirty seconds later, I was staring at a cop car, literally trapped. I realized that they were either going to come find us, or we could just get out and talk to them, so with our tails between our legs we climbed out from our hiding spots. I remember this part so well. The cop said, "What the hell are you doing down here?!” I said, "We're getting ready to play a show." I think he must have been surprised by my answer, because although he proceeded to tell us to get the hell off the property, he didn't even write down our names or information. I like to think that maybe the ghost of Darby Crash or the spirit of David Byrne could have been looking after us, but I only believe in that kind of stuff when I feel desperate. We packed up in a hurry and went over to the Taco Bell where there was a decent size group of people all bummed out that the show had been cancelled. Out of ideas and desperate, I asked the lady working at Taco Bell, "iI I bought a bunch of tacos, could we have a show?" She said, “One minute, let me ask my manager.” The manager said that was fine, and that was the night Popular Culture played Taco Bell.
What bands, in your mind are essential to understanding and appreciating the music scene of Austin?
For me, Austin had gotten to a point where I would mostly go see friends’ bands. But that being said, I think that is something that makes the Austin scene different from others. There seems to be less of a here-are-people-in-bands and here-are-people-who-are-not-in-bands feeling because everyone I know plays in bands in Austin. It does not make you a superhero or a rock star; it's more like, here is what I am doing. You should check it out, and also I want to check out what you are doing. I think the barrier of the stage and the crowd is broken down in a lot of ways, which is great. I don't really know the best way to sum up the music scene of Austin but here’re a few bands that I like: Recide, Unknown Relatives, Bobby Jealousy.
Discuss if you would, the naming of the project. Popular Culture is a pretty bold statement.
It may seem bold, but I am obviously not trying to claim popular culture as a whole. It is in reference to the idea that these songs come from honest experience. They are everything to me, and a reaction to everything around me.
Is my understanding correct that your album came together over a goodly period of time? Offer us a sense of that project's scope. For that matter, what's your "nutshell" explanation of the album's sound?
The record did take a while to complete. It was recorded, mixed, mastered and produced within two and a half years. But that was mostly a result of outside circumstances and not 900 straight days of recording. Life came up and got in the way a good deal, as it has a tendency to do. I would get in a car and leave Austin for months. Kyle (Producer. [He] let me record in his home studio—thank you) would call and tell me his mom had gotten sick, which as we all know, mothers get priority. I would lose a girlfriend; Kyle would quit smoking. At some points, I would get so frustrated I would think I was losing my mind, feeling like we were so close, but just couldn't finish the last steps, but looking back all that did have an interesting effect on the record. I think if you listen really closely, you can hear me leaving town, trying to escape some problem, or Kyle trying to take care of his mom in a room full of wealthy, skeptical doctors. It's all in there, which I think is good. Not always pleasant, but good.
As we're talking for a St. Louis-based website, give us a feeling of your total knowledge about this place. Assuming you've been through to visit family a time, or two?
I was born in St. Louis, but left when I was ten months old, so I don't remember anything. I have been back a handful of times to visit family, but I know embarrassingly little about the city. Most of my visits consist of eating Imo's pizza and playing pool in my grandparents' basement.
Similarly, any feelings about St. Louis musicians and artists over the years? Have any favorites?
Off the top of my head I can't think of any bands from St. Louis that I have been really excited about, but I like Miles Davis.
Chances of coming through town for a show?
A US tour is in the works, but dates are not set in stone. I will definitely keep you posted.
For more info, go to popularculturemusic.com.
