Mogwai

Mogwai
From Young Team to Old Pros
By Andrew Clayman
Published in Chicago Innerview, September 2008



“Scottish people don’t talk about emotions.”

According to guitarist Stuart Braithwaite, this is why his band’s always been mum about the meanings behind its own music. Even amongst each other, after more than a decade of touring and six studio albums to their credit, the good Glaswegian lads of Mogwai tend to let their unique brand of life-affirming death-rock speak for itself.

“I suppose we each have our own unique feelings about certain songs,” Braithwaite says, snickering a bit in his thick accent. “We’ve just never talked about it.”

Fortunately, words have rarely been a necessary ingredient in Mogwai’s style of communication. Despite being extremely funny and affable fellows, their music has always bled intensity, whether it’s in the form of a dreamy space waltz or a bulldozing metal riff. No lyrics, no pandering, no problem. It’s been the Mogwai philosophy since their 1997 debut, Mogwai Young Team, an album that became a certifiable post-rock classic and earned a special “10th Anniversary” re-release earlier this year.

“It’s quite weird,” says Braithwaite, looking back on the Young Team days. “It seems so long ago since we recorded it, that it’s almost like it’s a record by another band. With all the time that’s passed and being quite a bit older now, I’m actually kind of impressed that we had it that together, because we were so young, you know? So, I’d have to say I’m quite pleased with it.”

Anniversary editions aside, Young Team’s greatest legacy might be found in the legions of bands, around the globe, that used it as a major template for their own music—from Austin’s Explosions In the Sky to Japan’s Mono. In the past, Mogwai members have been known to throw a dart or two at so-called “plagiarists,” but with a new album coming out and a tour along with it, Braithwaite is in far too good of a mood to ridicule anyone.

“I think if there was a band just ripping us off, you’d never hear them,” he says. “I mean, those bands you mentioned, I know they really like us a lot, but they’ve got their own sound, as well. I think when any band starts, they’re influenced by other musicians. When we first started, there were bands that we were just trying to straight up copy. But after a short amount of time, you find your own feet and learn how to express yourself independently.”

As mentioned, Mogwai’s banner year hasn’t just been about nostalgia. Their highly anticipated sixth studio album, The Hawk is Howling, hits the streets via Matador on September 23rd. In many ways, it’s the perfect follow-up to 2006’s Mr. Beast, which featured shorter, more melodic tracks and even some singing from Braithwaite and company. This time, the Scots have flipped the script and returned to the longer, more cinematic format, with the usual touchstones of ambient, electronic, indie-rock, and straight-up metal sensibilities.

“I think (The Hawk is Howling) sits quite well between the last couple records,” Braithwaite says. “With Mr. Beast, a lot of the music became a bit more complicated. And with (2006’s) Zidane, because it was a film score, the music was quite sparse and drawn out. It feels to me like there’s elements of both of those records with this one.”

For anyone hoping to hear more of Braithwaite’s lovely singing voice on The Hawk, you’re out of luck. Mogwai does deliver some of its most memorable words ever, however, in the form of ten brilliantly meaningless song titles, including “I’m Jim Morrison, I’m Dead” and the Heathers-approved “I Love You, I’m Going to Blow Up Your School.”

“The titles never say anything about the song,” Braithwaite explains, “but they’re not always a joke, either. …Well, maybe half and half.”