Post by Misha, photo by Matthew Stanton

When I met Evelyn Ida Morris at a show at a Los Angeles art space I could immediately tell that I was going to like them, partially because they immediately offered to share their garlic fries from the cafe next door (which is generally a pretty good way straight into my heart.)

The more we talked, the more I wanted to know about their musical journey and what influences their earnest, big, chaotic songwriting style. When I found out that they’d be playing one more LA show at Zebulon before heading across the country to finish up their US tour, I took the opportunity to sit down with them for a proper chat. Sitting on the floor in between sets in the bar basement, we delved into the role of music in empathy and visibility, making nonbinary music, and the complicated nature of cancel culture.

HULLABALOO: This is actually your last album under the moniker of Pikelet, is that right? Can you talk about the decision to retire that project and what you’re focusing on now?

EVELYN: I’ve been writing stuff under my own name. The piano album I put out under my name – Evelyn Ida Morris – was out last year in April on a record label called Milk Records. I didn’t ever imagine anyone ever really wanting to hear those piano pieces, but I sent them to Jen Cloher and Courtney Barnett who were running the label at the time and they just really loved it and were really supportive and it gave me a second wind. And the thing is that those songs were all about exploring nonbinary identity while not feeling comfortable enough to come out yet. So it felt really cool to put it out last year and be like, ‘Hey, this is me. And you know, my pronouns are they / them and I don’t want my music to be seen as feminine anymore.’ It just felt like it had a purpose that felt very important. And it felt like Pikelet, which is something I’ve been doing since I was 23 – and I’m 36 now – it felt like that was no longer as relevant because the new stuff felt more like me.

“the music itself became a catalyst for visibility”

HULLABALOO: I think we’re in an interesting time where radical music used to mean just like punk and something that was very explicitly political and now it’s kind of starting to mean something a little different. Like it’s more music that allows –

EVELYN: Feeling.

HULLABALOO: Yeah, feeling. And to be seen by others, and that is seen as radical.

EVELYN: Yeah, my feelings about that are really pretty specific. I used the album as a tool to ensure that everyone understood that I was proud of being nonbinary. Even though I have always felt some sort of gender queerness, I’d never felt proud of it. The album was a way to let everyone know. And that was really important because I was seen as a cis person in all the bands I’d been in, including Pikelet. When you come out as nonbinary you feel like you have to do it every day, to every single person you talk to and it’s very exhausting. You never know what you’re going to get. It felt like a way to just try and reach as many people as possible. So the music itself became a catalyst for visibility.

And also culturally I’m in a pretty huge position of privilege, so I may as well use that privilege. Because I do think that busting binary is also busting white supremacy. White supremacy invented the binary. I don’t have any way to understand intersections that are not the ones that I’ve experienced, obviously, but I do think the more you pick apart those kinds of standards the more that people start to be used to being open minded. And using music is a cool way to do that because you can make people feel things. It’s like an inroad to their empathy.

HULLABALOO: Tell me about the organization you started in Melbourne, LISTEN.

EVELYN: It was basically started because I just posted something on Facebook about a book that was written and I was sick of hearing dudes centering masculinity in all musical spheres. And that started a huge outpouring. And we were like well maybe we should use this to do something.

It is still a very successful organization and it has completely changed the Melbourne music community. We changed government policy around how venues are run, and the music scene is no longer tolerant of things that it used to be tolerant of. Trans and nonbinary voices are far more present and thought about. But unfortunately there’s a lot wrong with the way that feminism operates. We started a bit of a chain reaction in terms of cancel culture and public shaming and that sort of thing. And I do think that we need to wind that back now. Especially because I just feel like I want the not-cis-men people to like, have a break. I want some cis-men to take over basically.

HULLABALOO: The cancel culture thing is so complicated.

EVELYN: It is. And honestly I do think that at the front of a movement it’s like slicing through something. The front of it has to be a bit violent because otherwise it doesn’t work, no one pays attention. We’ve all been like talking amongst ourselves and trying to interrupt men who are talking for like, ever, right? So the front of it does need to be pointy. But then you need to start to let that spread naturally rather than continuing that poisonous lateral violence.

“when you’re making music you’re trying to create a version of yourself that you can look at”

HULLABALOO: You’ve dubbed your music ‘peculiar pop.’ On the one hand it’s very sparse, it has unusual instrumentation, and on the other hand it has these little pop moments that give you something to anchor to. What draws you to nontraditional musical styles?

EVELYN: It’s definitely a feeling about capitalism and the way capitalism influences music, and it’s definitely a feeling about gender. My music has always been very related to my gender. I started out playing in very loud, very thrashy punk bands, playing drums and trying to be the toughest, most aggressive drummer possible – which I thought, at the time, was masculine. And then I felt excluded by the masculine forces that were stronger than mine in that scene. So I was like, fuck you I’m going to start doing this super feminine pop thing, which was what started Pikelet. It was essentially pretty palatable, not very challenging music. But I’ve also always had a relationship with the experimental music community in Melbourne, and I love it. I love going to a gig and not really fully understanding at first, or being challenged and having to wait around to really feel it.

And even though I know it’s not a binary – it’s not just pop and experimental – I think finding out where the nonbinary in music is is like a thing to me. You know? I’m going to try to engage your feelings and use pop because it’s really dear to me, to try and have you listen. But then I’m also going to do things that you don’t expect. Which to me is sort of how I feel my gender is right now. When you’re making music you’re trying to create a version of yourself that you can look at.

HULLABALOO: The nonbinary of music. I love that.

EVELYN: Yeah. How cool would it be to elevate the voices of people who’ve not been heard yet? Who knows what fucking music they’d make? Who knows what we are missing out on while we’re prioritizing cis white male voices?

Evelyn is planning a move to Los Angeles sometime in 2019, so LA locals can look forward to catching their powerful show in the near future. In the meantime, their latest and final album as Pikelet, fittingly titled Goodbye, is out now on LA-based Babyrace Records. Buy it here. Buy their self-titled piano album here via Milk Records.