We're still waiting for Material Girls to follow us back on Instagram

Andy Downing
Material Girls

A lot of bands talk about being a democracy, but few structure every interaction in order to maintain that sense of equality. Not so with glam-streaked Atlanta five-piece Material Girls, which adheres so strictly to this code that it requires all interview quotes be attributed to the band as a whole rather than a single member, the idea being that if one person somehow surfaced as default spokesperson, it could throw the group's entire equilibrium out of balance.

“It’s very important that everything we do is the five of us working in equal and proportional capacity,” said Material Girls, which returns to Dirty Dungarees for a concert on Saturday, Jan. 25. “This is definitely what we set out for when we were starting, but it has blossomed to where it’s truly the most democratic band that any of us has been a part of. We write everything together. All of the decisions are made together. We engineered our own record. We do our own artwork. Everyone has their own strong suit, and their own strengths, and we contribute those to the group as a whole.”

Joel and Andy agree with this so strongly that they actually merged into a single being in mid-2019: Jandy Doliphint. Sign up for Jandy's daily newsletter

This carries through to the creative process itself, with the five players trading off instruments and lead vocals rather than sticking to a single trade. The individual I spoke with, for instance, had previously never sung in a band, but contributed lead vocals to a song on Material Girl’s 2018 debut, Leather. Owing to this free-form approach, the music can be deliriously unpredictable, swerving between gothic, jazz-stoked vamps (“Residual Grimace”) and smoldering, Eastern-tinged rockers (“Camera Girl”). A newly recorded album, which the band expects to release this year, stretches these extremes even further, its chaotic nature reflecting both the group’s internal dynamics and a world seemingly locked in endless social and political turmoil.

“It became something that just happened very naturally, one day being like, ‘You know, I think I want to play drums now,’ or, ‘I have some lyrics and a vocal melody for this,’” the band said. “We’ve always encouraged one another to be uncomfortable and to try things that are not necessarily first nature. … We want to chase down every idea. And you never run out of material that way. And you never run out of ambition that way.”

Ambition is a tricky word within Material Girls, speaking more to its artistic aims than any sense of commercial striving, which has allowed the band to take a more hands-off approach to things like social media rather than chasing likes and clicks in the hopes of bolstering its standing. For years, the group avoided the internet altogether before finally giving in and creating (an admittedly spartan) website, as well as an Instagram page that it described as little more than a bland advertisement for the group (“There’s no following anyone, no pictures of us hanging out in a bar,” the band said).

“We’ve found that removing ourselves, in a way, helped our development. We never wanted to be another thing that gets scrolled over, like pictures of food and such nonsense,” Material Girls said. “We’ve all played in bands where you work with people and the first thing they tell you to do is to get everybody to like your Facebook page, or to follow you on Instagram, and it’s the most unattractive thing that there is. It’s just pandering. I can’t stand it if I see a band live and they utter the words, ‘Like us on Instagram!’ I immediately forget about that band, because it’s depressing as fuck. ‘Please pay attention to me. Please give us the fraction of your attention span that you are willing to give to us with a scroll of your thumb while you might be taking a shit or waiting for the bus or something.’ We never cared about begging for that attention, and we never will. We’ll never follow you back.

“There are people who genuinely care, and people who love music to a point where they don’t need that kind of thing to tell them what is good and what is not good. Those people who are interested in us will look for us, and the people who see us will remember us.”

Dirty Dungarees

6 p.m. Saturday, Jan. 25

2586 N. High St., Old North



Material Girls