By Notes From Vivace
Cowgirls recently played a set at the Moroccan Lounge. Influenced by their name, when seeing this band live, one can just envision seeing them playing in front of a red barn door. Off in the distance, there would be some bucking horses that perfectly captured the sound and stage show of this band.
We were fortunate enough to interview Al Moore from Cowgirls:
Q. What’s the story behind how your band started?
A. Doesn’t everything either begin with idled hands or some perceived moment of clarity that distills into a singular vision, ultimately transforming into obsessive addiction? Chantelle had been searching for a vessel to incubate, as she had never attempted anything close to writing or performance in the likes of what we’re setting out to accomplish. I had just recently left my previous band of five years, The Dead Ships, and was immediately upon exiting, as I certainly still remain, hellbent on making up for time spent within an equation that didn’t reflect the suitor. We were both restless at the right time. Two small windows synching picturesque ideals in passing. Basically, a couple of idiots with stubborn dreams. A spark was lit.
Q. What’s a dream venue/festival you’d love to play at and what about it intrigues you?
A. Being that my place of origin is Nashville, TN, it’s a complex issue of not wanting to point out the obvious but also needing to relay the perpetual desire to absolutely shred The Ryman Auditorium to pieces. Chantelle, Jess, and myself are currently mixing up a strange brew of western, country, goth, and metal, with an emphasis on dark, spacious grooves that evoke a certain time and place, so in the screen of my mind at the thought of it, being able to grace a stage that has so much history in the country circuit, only to completely obliterate the attendees who came for the western and unknowingly got involved in something entirely different along the way, my heart starts to palpitate.
Q. What are some of your favorite places to hang out/explore in Los Angeles?
A. If one is to walk into any bar or organic grocer in Los Angeles and maintain a sense of conversational awareness throughout the journey, they are to hear the salty grumblings from the decade-plus residence club regarding the not-so-secret pro tip of the only survival tactic that means a shit in this city: get out of it as much as you can. Considering my peers have recently taken to pointing out my jadedness and cynicism as I groan about how there isn’t any substance anymore, it’s important for me to spend time in places that evoke a sentimentality of Everywhere U.S.A., such as Glassell Park and Cypress Park and all the other Park neighborhoods that haven’t been destroyed by faux Old Crow barbershops and upper-class Eagles fans. Chinatown is effervescent in that conventionally forced way, which is good for the soul here, amidst the populace attempting to ascribe meaning to the “unique” and “authentic.” Hell, I’d even go as far to say Vernon, CA, at this point. Industrial, forgotten, cold storage armpits offer at the very least the opportunity to scream down an alleyway and not potentially disturb a table of six taking photos of their croissants as they’re ignoring their untrained pets humping the leg of a nearby vegan. Throw a varnished hooch house in Vernon and watch the Great Silver Lake Beanie Migration commence in front of our eyes. I’ll be there. Waiting.
Own Q&A. Why in the opportunistically given world would you decide to start a conceptually experimental, mixed genre band in an ever-saturated marketplace of popular indie and regurgitative culture?
A. Los Angeles is all about trying to be something that one is inherently not. The only thing we’re trying to accomplish is becoming ourselves whilst offering something that hasn’t been done. Or at least that hasn’t been done in our immediate surroundings. That, and we’re just too pissed off to be bartending at this point.