Yes, I may be notoriously known in my group of friends for being a little rough around the edges when it comes to up-and-coming music into this cruel world. I have an old soul, what can I say? Maybe I am too big of a nerd for the old stuff or too close minded prior to Fantom Magazine, but hot DAMN have I gotten some lucky encounters with special babes to interview. I knew of Scowl due to my pals fangirling, but after attending and experiencing their No Values Festival performance, how could anyone not want to sit and chat with the fabulous Kat Moss?
I know you guys are super busy, so thank you so much!
Honestly, this is exciting to me. Just the offer alone sounded really cool for this interview. I was like, “Hell yeah, I’m going to do this.” Don’t even worry, I’m all in.
You guys, are you just in band practice in California right now?
Yeah, so I live in Santa Cruz. I’m heading to San Jose for band practice.
We were supposed to go on a skate tour in Santa Cruz for this issue, but it was too expensive. That would’ve been perfect if you are from there.
I’ve lived here for six years. I’m originally from Sacramento, a Californian native. I’ve been here for a minute, so I feel like I am no longer feeling super transplanty and just I am here. This is a state, central city or town.
My best friend and I, who run the magazine, are very big ‘80s fans, so I’m sure you might know the movie, The Lost Boys that was filmed there?
Oh, yeah. I know all about it.
We took a trip there about three years ago to see all the spots that they filmed. I’m very glad that you know the movie, some people don’t.
Yeah, I used to live close to the Lost Boys Bridge by the Boardwalk and I would go, I walked there all the time. It’s great.
I had never seen you guys perform until the No Values Festival in California. We did a review on Iggy Pop because I love him. We walked in right when your set was going on.
In the giant dress.
I was with my friend Ashley, and she was like, “Oh my god, she’s wearing the same dress that I wore for my bridal shower.” But she had the white version. So cute.
I looked like if a cream puff was goth and I was kind of embarrassed, but I loved it. I like to do it up because why the fuck not.
I think you looked amazing. So, I just watched a Thin Lizzy documentary and they were talking about Phil’s transitional period of becoming super confident on stage. Was there a transitional period for you? From being shy and insecure to, “I don’t give a fuck?”
Yes, absolutely. When we started as a band, I hadn’t really had much experience being in the “limelight.” I had done choir for half a semester in high school, but I never had solos. I was never a confident performer in my childhood or coming up as a teenager. So, Scowl is my first band, and my first experiences with fronting a band, singing through a microphone, all that sensation and the crowd interaction, response and that energy exchange that’s relevant, punk and hardcore music. I was awkward and stiff in the beginning and nervous. I literally felt so out of my body nervous when we first started as a band in 2019, but of course, as time goes on, it’s a bit like a roller coaster for me where I was scared to get on the first couple rides. Then I started wanting to get back on. There’s been this sort of renaissance era that I went through, I would say the last two years, where I started really feeling myself, and it was so fun and honestly empowering.
Especially as a female in a male-dominant world. At least for me, in the music industry and skating world. You literally have the phase where you’re insecure, but all of a sudden you’re just like, “Who even cares about any of these people and what they think?”
Literally, it’s that moment when you realize nobody is as concerned with you as they are with themselves. I’ve spent time at skateparks, it is intimidating. I love skateboarding. I don’t do it that often, but I understand it’s the same exact feeling I had when I first got on stage as a hardcore band. Even got in a mosh pit the first couple times. I felt that beginner’s nervousness, but when you’re in that environment and surrounded by a bunch of dudes, it’s even more weighted because you feel like you might be getting those extra looks. You feel like some people won’t respect your space, and there’s that natural defense that we operate in because of that.
Totally. In my experiences, stepping out of my comfort zone, which can be terrifying, ends up being the very best thing ever that has fucking happened to me.
No, it’s crazy when you wake up in the morning, look yourself in the mirror and you’re like, oh, wait, I am doing my literal dream all because I gave myself the privilege to do it by stepping out of my comfort zone and diving in. How cool is that? I got really hyped on that when I think about it.
Some people are too afraid to even put themselves out there. You have to remind yourself that you should feel proud for even trying.
You must stop being a fucking coward. Obviously everybody’s jumping point is different. There’s a recognized privilege in every perspective. For me, it was scary to get on stage as a hardcore band. I can tell that my experience may be more privileged than other people’s in that position. I recognize that what I do isn’t just about me anymore, it’s about everybody in that space. As much as it’s fun to take up all the attention, very singer personality, I constantly have to be humble and check myself. This isn’t just about me, Kat, there’s a lot of people in this room who might see this and take whatever they need to take from it and go do something equally if not fuller, and that’s also a big gift of it.
What are the terrible things about gaining as much recognition as you have? Are there times where you still wish you were in the mosh pit?
It can sometimes feel really polarizing how black and white it gets for me. There are moments where it’s so overwhelmingly positive, the training, it can be painful and both in the ways that it questions who I am and how I see myself, as it should, but sometimes you’re not ready. The simplest complaint is this schedule can be treacherous. When you’re working for three months straight and you’re in a van, like a closed air corridor around a bunch of dudes. People I love, don’t get me wrong, but you don’t really have a moment to recharge. It can cloud it a lot. There are moments where I get overstimulated and overwhelmed, struggling to grapple with the fact that I don’t have control over how people see me. I’m just like, let me burn it down. It’s more so for me, I think to round it out and not sound sad and depressing, too. It’s important to try and be mindful every day of closing the gap between the high-highs and the low-lows.
Which is healthy for you to do. You don’t want to ever be a dick, but occasionally everyone’s allowed to be like, “I didn’t get enough sleep and I’m easily irritable today, sorry!”
And I’m hungry and I started my period. It’s all fucking real-life shit. I think the important part for me is just making sure that the people that I’m around, my tour family, pretty much my band, my crew are all people that I heavily fuck with on so many levels. People that I know when we do have friction with one another, they’re mature enough to handle it. It’s not my job to babysit, but at the same time they have a tolerance for my bullshit, I have a tolerance for their bullshit, and we can be compassionate of one another in those low points.
I am sure the low parts are a lot, but then you realize this is what you’ve wanted so you tell yourself to shut the fuck up.
I also think of it in the sense of the show. I try to obviously, if worse comes to worst, my body, my health and my well-being comes before any show. Same with everybody in my band. When I’m feeling low about something, small or big, but it’s not something that’ll take away from my health, I try to think about if I’m on tour, that one show is the show that the people who want to see Scowl, have been waiting for all week or all month. It is their one night to disconnect and enjoy the present. I have the privilege to do that every night. So, it gets a little mundane and it helps to just remind myself, this isn’t just about me. This is their moment too, and to respectfully break off a small piece of myself that is sacred and share with them. I’ve had dark mental health moments and then got on stage and played the best show of my life. Countless times, it is so therapeutic. I think more people need to get a microphone and scream into it for 30 minutes a day because it is so relieving.
It looks like you’re just relieving stress, anger, even happiness. I’m sure it’s so helpful to get it all out.
It is. I just get to turn and face my demons a little. I am working through my shit up there. It’s quite an experience. Sometimes I wonder, Is this how it’s for everybody?
You have a healthy way in your own mind dealing with things from touring to getting on stage to performing when you haven’t even been doing this for that long. Five years seems like a long time, but it really is not that long.
Five years has felt like a lifetime. But when I compare it to my peers, my heroes and even contemporaries who have been playing in hardcore bands for way longer, it puts it into perspective a lot. The reality is that it’s such a weird, visceral, rare, unique experience that I have the privilege to live a lot of. I’m just grateful. You’re catching me in a positive kick. But I could totally be like, “Dude, I’m cooked.” I got off tour, three months straight of touring. When I get home that first week, I don’t want to talk to or see anybody. I’ve found some more balance in my home life now.
As you should. I try to have a good balance of working shows and skating. Then having alone time is hard sometimes since I rarely have it.
It’s also hard when you get that alone time and you’re like, so now what? I find myself as someone who really enjoys their independence. I’ve worked that social muscle so much that there is a little bit of a compulsiveness to it, and I try to be mindful. Like, he’s really tired and I’m still just giving it away, my mental space and I don’t need to do that. Rest period, it’s meant for resting.
Have you had a moment in your career where you’re like, “Wow, I’ve made it.” Mine was when I worked a KISS show and I was working backstage with them in their getup.
That’s crazy. I’ve had those moments where it was a personal win where it was any random person on the street and say I met Keith Morris. Some would have no idea who that is or they listen to punk music and would be stoked. It doesn’t really matter how big or small, but my family doesn’t listen to punk music or hardcore. When I played Coachella and Madison Square Garden, they were like, “Holy shit, you’re doing this, this is serious.” It’s personally special. I worked in grocery stores for five years, I struggled through high school, did not graduate, so I think they were just excited for me to be doing anything that made me happy and really chasing it. When you tell some people in their 60s, yeah, I’m playing the Garden or I’m playing a huge music festival. It lands. Hearing my mom cry on the phone of happiness when I told her some of those things was very special.
So, playing big venues or events hit hard. I would want to play Lollapalooza, being from Chicago and that 1992 lineup.
Lolla is a dream. I want to do that so bad. That’s a huge bucket list. Of course, I have a huge personal bucket list, like playing with Gorilla Biscuits, for example, is a hardcore band I love. Those are just as valuable to me as the big ones, but there’s also a sense of deep surprise when the big ones happened because we didn’t start a hardcore band with Coachella in mind, ever. That wasn’t a reality.
Seems like you guys are just going up and up very quickly. I’m sure we’re manifesting big things.
That’s the thing. I think I’ve just manifested the fuck out of everything. Some people will think that is delusional, but I don’t care. I just think it’s important to me personally to set a goal and reach it. Whether the goal is a fun bucket list dream, or if it’s genuine, I’m going to work towards this, I’m going to grind. I will do it. I have nothing to lose.
When you’re ambitious, look where it got you!
Yeah, what the fuck? That’s crazy. It is such a cool moment. I feel like sharing that too. It’s cool to talk to you and hear you say, “Yeah, I’m on skate teams. I’m traveling. I am busy.” And you picked up skating in 2020, that’s so cool. It’s always how it is. I feel like I am kind of a woo-woo spiritual person. I just feel like sometimes the universe, she’s like, “Okay, you wished for it. Now you gotta live it.” And it’s like, “What?” I relate to this so hard. This is really a good conversation for me right now because it is hard for me not to get in that hole thinking everything is hard.
Then it’s like, why am I complaining?
Yeah, but you’re allowed. I am not the kind of person who’s like, “Oh, complaining is so annoying.” It can be, but also let it out, let it flow. Health insurance is privatized, and once you hit your mid-20s, it is not easy out here in America. I think friends can provide emotional support. I believe in therapy, but I also believe friends can be there for each other. Were you at Red Rocks when we opened for A Day To Remember? It was the coolest thing ever. It was crazy.
Dammit, I didn’t know you opened. It was an AEG show.
Dude, you know what? We’ll come back. I’ll manifest it. I can headline it. Red Rocks is a bucket list. It’s incredible. I love it.
If you were to pick one person, they could be dead or alive, who would do number one fangirl over and get all nervous around?
Gerard Way from My Chemical Romance, I would lose my absolute marbles. It’s like a fangirl. I feel like, of course, this is parasocial. I would totally talk myself through it internally. Like, I’m going to be cool and normal, not freak out. On the inside my palms would be sweating and I would be a wreck. That man just really opened the door for me with their stage presence and messaging. I found My Chem when I was nine or 10 and became obsessed. It really did alter me on a deep level. That’s probably my Godlike superhero person. Maybe Debbie Harry from Blonde, too.
I was more of a Blink 182 fan than a My Chem fan. I thought Tom Delonge was the hottest thing in the whole world. I have worked two of their shows now, and 15-year-old me would be freaking out.
I mean, would totally lose my shit if I ever got to meet Oli Sykes from Bring Me the Horizon.
He’s still hot. My three would be Eddie Vedder, Robert Smith and Robert Plant.
You know what? Now that you’re saying all this, it’s absolutely sparking my brain. Tom York. Also, Kathleen Hanna of Bikini Kill. I have an embarrassing story of when Scowl first started and before Bikini Kill announced that they were coming back. I emailed the email attached to their website to contact management, and I was like, “This is my band. This is our demo. We really want to open for you. If you ever come back and play in the Bay Area.” Nothing has come of it. That’s okay. Just a sweet memory now that I look back on that. That was adorable. I love Bikini Kill and every Kathleen Hanna project, I think she’s incredible. Literally helped create and shaped a lot of my feminism for sure and my radical feminism.
If that ever happens, that I see that I’m literally going to email you and say, “Kat that is fucking sick, you did it!”
I would die. I am just such a fan, too. I don’t know if the fan brain will ever leave me. No matter how much experience and how jaded I get, I just feel like I’m always going to be stoked and excited about those little things. I also know that experience when you show up to a venue and you’ve been on tour and you’re totally dead on the inside, I always try to, if I can, recognize people, chat with them, get their names, shake hands. I know how important that is. I’ve been at enough venues; I’ve helped put on hardcore shows. When you have a good interaction with someone and then you see them again a year or two later and they’re like, “Hey, dude, what’s up?”
So important. Especially since the music industry is so small. It’s easy to not be an asshole.
That’s exactly my philosophy on that one.
Do you have some sort of ritual or routine so that you don’t lose your voice?
Yes. I try to take care of my physical body. It’s been a hard learning process because I don’t think I had those skills prior to doing what I do. If you’re not taking care of yourself while touring, it’ll show. I was getting sick almost monthly, at least the last three years. While it didn’t really affect my voice so much, it was painful to get sick all the time. So eating is important before we play. I always hit vocal warmups at least 10 minutes, I’ll run those babies. I also do vocal cool downs after the set. I found that to be extremely helpful for my voice. Very basic things, making sure I am sleeping and eating. It is important for me and anybody, but for me especially, I forget to take care of myself. Also, freedom of movement. I like to dance. I like to put on music and just get my body going. If I can get some stretches in there, I’ll do that while I’m warming up my voice and dance. Just wiggle around. It doesn’t have to be cute, doesn’t have to be good.
Do you have a go-to song for that?
“Psycho Killer” by Talking Heads. It’s fun to sing and dance. You can just get kind of funky with it. Any Paramore song, I’m jumping up and down or I’m dancing around. Hayley has the coolest dancers on stage too, so it’s fun to pretend like I’m them. I would say those are my big ones. Otherwise, I do my makeup before we play, and that’s a really grounding experience to just zone in on my face and create art. I love that side of the expression, the hair, the makeup, the outfit. That is very much a part of the show for me, and it helps get me in the mindset of it’s like doing drag almost. I’m getting into character.
