Lead singer Cute Courtney is also not really Courtney, but Jen. With their return to Australia unfolding this month, it seemed timely to touch base with the dream-pop trio about inspiration and death by cougar.
“I think that’s why Australians are so friendly and fun. You live in such a dangerous place that you could get bitten by a poisonous spider and die tomorrow – the only solution is to enjoy life in the moment and have a happy-go-lucky attitude,” Koke says. “Our last trip there was a complete and total blast. Foam-filled fountains, midnight shirtless saxophone concerts on the beach, swimming in shark infested waters, you name it. We even saw a brown snake.”
We’re typing back and forth since the mountains of Southern France have made an actual phone call impractical, and conversation has rather naturally drifted to the various ways Australia can kill you. Not that The Courtneys are immune to life amidst the food-chain in their native Vancouver.
“I’m terrified of bears,” she says. “Cougars are scary too, but people always say there’s no point because they’re so stealthy you won’t know you’re encountering one until it’s attacking you.”
Armed with the grim knowledge that death by surprise-cougar is apparently a thing, the trio have set out in support of their sophomore album, II. It’s likely you’ve heard The Courtneys before; either from the success of their debut (think songs such as Nu Sundae and 90210), or the strength of their first visit. It doesn’t hurt that they also seem so friendly and approachable. Last tour Jen, who takes the reins on drums and lead vocals, sounded legitimately amazed at their trajectory. She also revealed Koke’s dream of filming a choreographed music video before they died – an aspiration that is closer to reality than you’d think.
“It’s true about the choreographed dance music video,” Koke says. “It’s interesting you ask about that, because we actually spent a bunch of time trying to plan a real ‘90s boy band-inspired dance video and we ran into a bunch of problems. Aside from securing a boat and a plane, we had trouble figuring out what kind of backup dancers we would want.
“We didn’t want a bunch of super conventionally attractive women or men, because although that would fit the style of the video, we don’t want to perpetuate ideals of conventional beauty. But then we didn’t know how we would select people at all. Maybe we can hold a competition for people who want to be dancers in our video, where the only criterion is freaky dancing skill.”
The ‘90s throwback isn’t at all surprising. To those familiar with their style and sound, the band have a love of the era that clearly infuses their sense of sound. What is fascinating, though, is how much consideration has gone into the motivations of this appeal.
“It’s weird paying homage to something, as we often do, that has outdated ideals,” Koke says. “For us to be dancing around beside a plane or boat. What are we really saying about the importance of wealth and status? For us, those things are so funny and cheesy in old music videos, but the line between referencing or making fun of old pop culture stuff and perpetuating those ideas is tricky to discern sometimes.
“We’re also conscious about not changing our appearance or mannerisms for the public, and to just be our normal selves, so I think that is political in itself. I think people can be suspicious about the use of political ideas to gain social credit and importance, so our solution to that is to each just have our own politics, and talk about them, but not generate a political agenda for our band. Our main priority is making art that is about how we feel in a really honest and genuine way. We each speak for ourselves.”
