Songs from the underground

RC of mongoose steps out of the shadows

You might have seen him: a compact man in a dark uniform simultaneously singing and jumping off a stage, or sitting sweetly with an acoustic guitar, or maybe zipping past on the Adanac bike path. The Prairie-born RC spends his time in Vancouver singing in the punk rock band Mongoose, fronting the one-man band Buck Teeth, and riding his bicycle everywhere. (At harvest time you’ll find him riding a tractor in Saskatchewan, working on his parents’ farm.) Here RC sheds some light on band names, rock n’ roll biking, and the Life Uniform.

MOMENTUM: Where did the names Mongoose and Buck Teeth
come from?

RC: Mongoose had been in Shockk’s* idea bank for a while. He was watching the National Geographic channel and decided that the mongoose was his favourite animal because of its small, speedy nature. And there happens to be four small, speedy animals in the band.
Buck Teeth went through a whole lot of dental dams to get where he is today. When I was little my teeth were really big. I never had braces, but I wanted them. The name went through a bunch of awkward stages: Halo Burro, Saber Teeth… It wasn’t pretty.

M: You often ride your bike to shows. How do you manage with your gear?

RC: Most of the time I ride to shows because I’m just singing or singing and playing guitar, and it’s easy. But when we’re without a van I also take merchandise. Once when I had my hockey bag stuffed full of [band] T-shirts and hoodies slung around my shoulders and a milk crate full of CD’s at the back, one brake line snapped. Luckily I wasn’t going down a hill.

M: Tell me about the Life Uniform.

RC: I was driving the tractor in the field one day and thought it was time to step outside of that vicious circle of buying and selling. It came from exhaustion, from the bombardment of advertising, buying, and selling. Instead of worrying about fashion, you just step fashion up one notch and wear the same thing everyday – which is what a lot of people do anyway. I felt that that part of life was taking up too much of me. I wanted to make room. I wanted to see what was left when everything was gone.

I wore one shirt and one pair of pants for seven months. Three and half years and some additions later, I have three pairs of pants and three shirts – then you start adding accessories like a hoodie, jean jacket, a couple pairs of shoes. It’s a bit of a limited idea – not a lot of foresight in it. Say you want to go hiking or biking in the rain. I have rain gear now.

You’ve got to start at the bottom and work your way up. It’s like starting with a clean slate. That’s what it was for me. People would say, “You’re a minimalist,” but I’d say, “No, I’m an essentialist.” As long as you’re aware of what’s extra, you can more easily let it go. When you let it go, it gets easier and easier every time. You’re able to define yourself by things that are more real.

About the Author

L.R. Abramson rides a one-speed cruiser rather slowly and enjoys lip syncing to Harry Belafonte, playing folk music, and pretending to be a rock star on her days off. [more...]