MOG

I discuss the Seattle five-piece's self-titled debut album with MOG outsider, The Girlfriend (a.k.a Jill).

During Ragged Wood...
The GF: I thought this was supposed to be folk music?
Me: It is.
The GF: No, it isn’t. It’s a much bigger sound.
Me: What were you expecting, a one-man band?
The GF: It’s not exactly humble, using all the instrumentation.
Me: Would it help if they doffed their caps every now and then during songs? They could tap them against the mike, and say "Very sorry, guvnor, very sorry."
The GF: No, as they say, less is more.
Me: Funny, you don’t think that when it comes to talking.
The GF: It would be nice to hear the man on his own, sitting there, with his guitar, on the chair, in the spotlight—
Me: And what do the rest of the band do? Make sandwiches for him?
The GF: They can sit there and watch.
Me: So, they’re the audience, then. Look, songs about coming down from the mountains, there’s not enough of them, okay? [sings] "Come down from the mountains, lalalalalala" I want to get up and march around the room to that one.
The GF: Who the fuck is up mountains, anyway? Only sheep and goats. He’s singing to his pet goat….Remember that ram that I saved? I could have sang that to him.

[Jill rescues a stuck ram in the Kerry Mountains by covering his eyes with a scarf and then freeing his horns, while I bravely stand 10 feet away taking pictures for my blog.]

During White Winter Hymnal...
The GF: It’s a lovely song and melodic and all.
Me: That’s the nicest thing you’ve said about anything ever.
The GF: …But it’s sickeningly hippyish.
Me: I might have known! I spoke too soon!
The GF:  [listens some more] Okay, I take it back, it’s lovely, but I just want something a bit more [makes disturbing guttural noise] grrrrrrrrrrrr!
Me: You get that from other bands. This is music for your inner shepherd. I love singing along to this stuff, "To keep their little heads, from falling in the snow…Micheal…". Hold on, who’s this Michael character?
The GF: The goat.
Me: This is a different song.
The GF: It’s a concept album about a goat.

During Your Protector...
The GF: It’s a nu-medieval song. "Brave Sir Robin ran away…"  for the 2000s. And what’s he talking about, ‘your protector’s coming home.’ Is it still the goat he’s talking about? ‘Cos it’s not a man.
Me: ‘Course it’s a man. Men are the protectors of women.
The GF: [Huge laugh]
Me: You know, this album bypasses any meager critical faculties I might have, because it reminds me, I realize, of an album my Dad used to play over and over when we were kids, his one rock and roll album, Bridge Over Troubled Water  [by Simon and Garfunkel].
The GF: Was he depressed?
Me: Now that I think of it, he always had a gun to his head during it… No, he just liked it. But that’s about as rock and roll as he got it. Fleet Foxes reminds me of some of the songs on that, the melodies, and the singing, the homespun wisdom of the lyrics. This song reminds me of, "I’d rather be a sparrow than a snail" [from El Condor Pasa.] My Dad would always ask, "Which would you rather be, a sparrow or a snail?" And I’d go [high-pitch boy's voice] "A sparrow, Da." And he’d say, "Correct." That album taught me a lot about life. You know, this LP just makes me happy. Instant feel-good stuff.
The GF: Yeah, it does.
Me: It makes me feel safe and warm and loved and cuddled. And I’ve never even said the word cuddled before, never mind felt it.  It makes me feel all these feelings, it’s incredible.
The GF: Another drink?
Me: No, I think I’ve had enough actually.

During Blue Ridge Mountains...
Me: I thought this was going to be…
The GF: Yeah, I know…
Both: [sing Laurel and Hardy] "On the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, on the trail of the Lonesome Pine!" But this is great, too. Lovely story.
The GF: Beautiful voice. You can’t get away from how good it is.
Me: It’s so pastoral. Put it this way, if you pick up this album expecting urban grime with Dizzee Rascal over the top, you’ll be sorely disappointed.
The GF: What’s grime?
Me: It’s the stuff on your windows that you never fucking clean ‘cos you’re too busy eating Pringles and swillin' vodka!
The GF: [laughs]
Me: You walked into that one...Oooh, listen to this bit. Phenomenal. So melodic.
The GF: Yeah, but this song would piss me off if it was 10 o’clock at night in Glastonbury and I was off my tiddles…Not the sort of music I’d be looking for at that hour at all. I’d be shouting, "Put a bit of bass drum into it, babes!"
Me: I know, I’ve ran away from bands I loved at 10 o’clock at a festival for that very reason. No, this music would be for Sunday afternoon in Glastonbury and it would be heavenly.
The GF: Smoking a joint and having an oul' can on a Sunday, yeah, this music would be really relaxing. Even though I don’t smoke joints ‘cos they make me sick.
Me: If I had to get sick, I’d like to get sick to this song.
The GF: ‘Fabulous music to get sick to’.
Me: Yeah, put that on the internet banner ad. ‘This is the best record to vomit green stuff to.’