Twenty years of Sister Mary Rotten Crotch

Occasionally, trying to do something the easy way ends up being a goddamn nightmare.
So it was with my recent interview with the four members of long-running KC punk outfit Sister Mary Rotten Crotch. They’re all busy with their own stuff, so we try having a voice chat together over Facebook Messenger. Logistically, it doesn’t go so hot — lots of disconnects and reconnects. What gets through, though, is classic Sister Mary. The band isn’t known for holding back in its shows, and the members don’t hold back in an interview. How does it feel, I ask, to be celebrating 20 years as a band?
“Fucking old,” says drummer Amy Farrand, without a second of hesitation.
“We’re nicer,” says singer Liz Spillman.
This is a woman I once saw dedicate a song called “Fuck You and Your Neighborhood” to the parents of all the high-school students in the crowd at an early-2000s Gee Coffee show.
“We’re not any more mature, though,” Spillman allows.
The current incarnation of Sister Mary — Spillman, Farrand, guitarist Alison Dunlop-Saunders, and bassist Mike Farren — has been together for three years. But the list of former members is long. Spillman and Dunlop-Saunders are the only two founding members currently playing in the band, and Spillman only became the singer after two other people weren’t up to it. At least two drummers never actually played a show. Among those who’ve rotated through are Brent Kastler — aka “Tammy” — now of Madisen Ward & The Mama Bear (bass) and even Farrand herself, who was replaced by Jon Cagle of Go Generation for a time. These days, though, Farrand is something of a driving force within Sister Mary.
“The band didn’t do anything for a long time, but I dragged everybody out of the grave to do some shows here and there,” Farrand says. “Charity kinda things — things we give a damn about. Then we decided to do it [play out more] again consistently in 2013.”
The relative stability that has followed has allowed Sister Mary to retool its songs. The tracks written during Farrand’s absence now benefit from better rhythm, and Farren was given free reign to change things up on the low end when he joined in 2015. The core idea of Sister Mary remains intact, though. This is tightly wound punk rock, the sort of music you play when you’ve had a really shitty day and want to lash out at everything and everyone who’s been a total dick to you. There’s a sense of wry humor about the whole thing, though, too, which puts it halfway between “tongue-in-cheek” and “punch your lights out.” What makes it work is that you’re never quite certain which is coming next.
“I don’t yell at my children nearly as much now,” Spillman says, “since I get to yell at band practice.”
Farrand attempts to add her two cents, but her connection is glitchy, like a robot having a stroke. Bass player Mike Farren attempts some IT help, but it’s to no avail — her connection craps out. This will happen eight more times before we’re done with the interview. Farrand is back on in no time, though, and we’re right back to business.
“I don’t know what you’ve been saying for the last two minutes,” she says, with a hint of frustration. Spillman explains we’ve been talking about her the entire time, and Farrand sighs.
“Okay, so I’m a cunt,” she says. “We’ve established that. Let’s move on.” Laughter erupts.
After we’ve settled down, I ask my first serious question. It has to do with Trump. Where’s all the great punk protest music? And how does Sister Mary fit in?
“I know where you’re going with this,” Spillman says. “Because, historically, yes, when you have a polarizing political climate, people tend to speak out. But, quite honestly, I think that we live in such a complacent society that people are not doing anything.”
And Sister Mary songs have rarely drawn from a specific political climate. Some of the band’s popular songs — like “Rockstar” and “Instigator” — target individuals rather than broad causes or ideologies.“All of our songs, for the most part, are about very specific people or very specific events,” Spillman says.
“Punk rock has been historically better when there’s been shitheads [in office],” Dunlop-Saunders says. “But, for us, we find shit to write angry about [either way], you know? We’ve never had a problem with that.”
In the midst of a deep discussion of the political leanings and songwriting techniques of Sister Mary Rotten Crotch, the call drops again. Once we’re back together — and having rued the fact we didn’t use Facetime, Google Hangouts, or Skype — we wrap up by discussing what being part of the band has meant for everyone.
“I think that I have gained some of the best friends that I’ll ever have,” says Spillman. Dunlop-Saunders agrees, cooing at how sweet the sentiment is.
“It’s also given me a motivator and an outlet to write all the angry things,” says Dunlop-Saunders.
“I’ve known all of them for twenty years, so it’s just kind of cool to get the opportunity to play with them,” Farren says.
Drummer Farrand offers up a lengthy, heartfelt explanation of what she’s gotten, which leaves her bandmates in stitches. I can’t hear a single word.
Goddammit.
♦
Sister Mary Rotten Crotch 20th Anniversary Show, with The Big Iron and Nature Boys.
Davey’s Uptown Ramblers Club
Saturday, July 7