Stone purses her lips in consideration and leans back in her chair. “We are just totally funky vegetables,” she says.
Sitting opposite, Mooney agrees. “It’s all about the fun associations you can make with an avocado, really,” she says, and the two singers burst into laughter.
Their fruit-and-veg chat refers to The Vegetable Plot, a “roots musical” penned by fellow songwriter Luke Escombe, which saw the Exes take on the roles of various vegetables singing about the virtues of healthy eating. The show drew an audience decidedly different from their usual folk-loving crowd. As Stone and Mooney describe the gig, the banter between the pair steadily builds, and it’s easy to see how the band’s established such a reputation for charm in so short a time.
“It’s interesting seeing little kids reacting to loud music,” Stone says. “There were guitars and bass, a full drum kit. We might have been a bit too loud. But it’s the comedy in those songs that really sells them. It’s all incredibly punny, and we’re all in silly costumes. But every audience response is different, everywhere you go. I think it depends a lot on where we’re playing.”
“And we’re pretty family-friendly,” Mooney adds.
“We’re not particularly rock’n’roll. We want to be, but we’re so not.”
“Yeah, the room’s never full of sexy hipsters. Well, some sexy hipsters. Not many though. First Aid Kit probably takes all of the sexy hipsters.”
“We don’t want them anyway, they’re fickle.”
“No fickle hipsters,” Mooney nods, happy with the decision. “We’re the kind of band our mums would feel comfortable taking their friends to.”
“And now we can start making salads onstage,” adds Stone.
Mid-gig cooking breaks are something the hipsters would probably flock to, but the Exes have enough on their plate without worrying about capricious crowds. The band’s set to embark on a national tour to support their latest single Tell Me, before working towards an album in 2015. Not bad for a group that began quite casually.
“It all started as friendship, really,” Mooney recalls. “Some friends invited us to a country roadshow at The Vanguard, so we formed this all-girl singing band and it just stuck.”
“We Googled bad country song titles for our name,” Stone elaborates, “and found this George Strait song All My Ex’s Live In Texas, which we thought was hilarious. Katie was screaming, ‘Noooo!’ She hated it at first. We had a month to learn our instruments – I already played the accordion, but Georgia took up the mandolin for the band – and put a set together for the gig, and we really enjoyed it. It was a really good crash course in what it’s like just getting something happening.”
“For a while there we were looking at calling ourselves something like The Pretty Pollys,” Mooney remembers, and Stone groans in mock disgust. “We had nothing, and then walking home it suddenly came up: All Our Exes Live In Texas. People always ask if it’s true, and it’s not true, sadly. They still live in Newtown.”
“They all play in the same band,” Stone quips, and Mooney laughs.
“Hannah always introduces us as having 10 husbands who we’ve all shared, and they’re all dead in Texas. Sometimes we killed them. Sometimes we’re Amish, I don’t know.”
“And we’re actually all magical,” Stone adds.
“Clearly we’re still working this all out,” Mooney sighs.
At the rate the band’s progressing, you’d suspect any audiences taking the time to learn the Exes’ backstory or analyse writing influences quite misses the point. Their strength lies in the beauty of their harmonies, their instrumentation, and the pleasure of watching them perform; all things that don’t require a prologue to enjoy. Such is the growing enthusiasm for the group; they themselves are surprised by the reception.
“It’s always weird talking about the writing stuff,” Stone admits. “I’ve been thinking about it lately though, because I’ve been trying to work out what motivates people to play music. Working out what drives someone to get up in front of an audience and demand love from strangers. It’s an odd profession, and I’m constantly asking myself, ‘What is it about me that needs this?’ I’ve never had the answer.”
“Because your identity becomes so caught up in it,” Mooney says before pausing, considering her reply. “Then comes this whole level of self-promotion, striving for big shows and needing to push yourself. It’s confusing, working out what the motivation behind being a musician is. Mostly you just want to play and have an audience find a bond with what you’re saying. It’s all a weird game, but so far everything [with the band] has been a nice surprise.”
“Though we’ve stepped up the size of the venues a bit so we’ve had to push a bit harder, make sure people know about them,” says Stone. “But this is our first ever actual publicity. So, you know,” she looks hopefully to Mooney, “I hope people actually come to the show.”
“Yeah,” Mooney nods. “That would be nice.”
BY ADAM NORRIS
