Courage My Love ended not with a bang but a whimper.
For over a decade, the Kitchener, ON, trio — founded by twin sisters Mercedes and Phoenix Arn-Horn when they were teenagers — ground it out in the pop-punk scene, releasing a pair of full-lengths and a handful of EPs. But the band say they were undone by the sort of sexist attitudes that have hampered female artists for decades.
"We were told that if you were writing rock stuff, the only kind of female voices on Canadian radio are Emily Haines or Halestorm," says Mercedes. "Otherwise, you have to do pop stuff."
Stuck at home, creatively frustrated and feeling hopeless, Mercedes and Phoenix started sketching out the beginnings of Softcult. Across last year's debut EP Year of the Rat and this year's follow-up Year of the Snake, out February 4, the sisters embraced the sounds of dream pop and shoegaze and the politics of riot grrrl and DIY. "We agreed that no matter what happens, even if this project just becomes a hobby, even if music's not our career, we're just always gonna write music that we love and that fulfills us," says Mercedes.
In the summer of 2020, Mercedes and Phoenix started writing songs for a new project, though they weren't sure what it would be. "We were conscious that we didn't want to be, for lack of a better term, a Warped Tour band," says Mercedes. That was well-trodden territory from their days in Courage My Love. "We wanted to be dream pop, we wanted to be indie and we wanted to have a cooler vibe."
Working in their home studio with Phoenix producing, the duo layered guitar tracks on top of one another, actively trying to muddy or sludge up their sound. But where their instrumentals sounded opaque, their lyrics were anything but. Frustrated at their inability to act as they watched racial justice protests roil the US, the sisters tapped into a deep well of anger brought about from years of dealing with sexist attitudes and actions.
"We've experienced a lot of misogyny and ignorance being women in the music scene and, unfortunately, experienced abuse," says Mercedes. "We never really made a conscious choice that that's what we wanted [Softcult] to be. But then the music started speaking for itself. With the mindset that we were in, that's just what was naturally coming out."
Mercedes and Phoenix still have the same managers that took Courage My Love under their wings when the twins were teenagers. It was only at their managers' urging that they even considered signing with a label again. "They had high hopes for the project, even when Phoen and I were like, 'This is just going to be this thing we do for fun,'" remembers Mercedes.
Their business team was whittled down from dozens to two after they signed with independent UK-based label Easy Life Records. Says Mercedes, "They're so supportive. They still guide the ship behind the scenes. But in terms of creative stuff, they really just let us do whatever we want."
At the beginning of 2021, they started releasing tracks one at a time, often accompanied by new issues of their zine, SCripture, designed by Phoenix and music videos directed by Mercedes. Put together, the music, words and images mix together '50s women's fashion, '90s punk feminism and '00s mall goth into an aesthetic that's connected with fans and critics alike — their Spotify page already boasts more than 230,000 monthly listers, as of this writing. "Our confidence was pretty low when we started releasing these songs. It's been a really awesome surprise how well it's done," says Mercedes.
Year of the Snake doubles down on everything that made its predecessor great: the songs are heavier, the hooks stickier and lyrics more personally felt. "There's definitely a shift in tone," reflects Mercedes. "I think the songs in general have a bit of a darker feel and are just heavier. It definitely feels like the more sad, angry EP."
In Courage My Love's final years, the Arn-Horns wrote "hundreds" of songs in an effort to please their corporate overlords. "It's kind of gross, but in our mind, it was almost like this daddy figure," says Mercedes. It's a dynamic the sisters explore more broadly in Year of the Snake's "Perfect Blue": "Turning slowly / Into someone else / All these words in my mouth aren't mine." Mercedes adds, "You're literally not allowed to release anything unless A&R likes it. You're trying to figure out, 'How can I change myself to be what this person likes?'"
Their efforts were mostly fruitless. With every new batch of rejected songs, "we could feel the enthusiasm dying," Mercedes recalls.
But the practice does seem to have sharpened their already formidable way around a pop hook. Year of the Snake opener "BWBB (Boys Will Be Boys)," for example, is based around a snarling Deftones-esque guitar riff. But it's the menacing delivery of "If there's one in your company, I wonder when they're gonna come for me" that keeps the focus.
"You can either crumble under the bad things that happened to you, or you can say, 'Fuck you,' and strive and push past it," says Mercedes. "It's cathartic for us."
For over a decade, the Kitchener, ON, trio — founded by twin sisters Mercedes and Phoenix Arn-Horn when they were teenagers — ground it out in the pop-punk scene, releasing a pair of full-lengths and a handful of EPs. But the band say they were undone by the sort of sexist attitudes that have hampered female artists for decades.
"We were told that if you were writing rock stuff, the only kind of female voices on Canadian radio are Emily Haines or Halestorm," says Mercedes. "Otherwise, you have to do pop stuff."
Stuck at home, creatively frustrated and feeling hopeless, Mercedes and Phoenix started sketching out the beginnings of Softcult. Across last year's debut EP Year of the Rat and this year's follow-up Year of the Snake, out February 4, the sisters embraced the sounds of dream pop and shoegaze and the politics of riot grrrl and DIY. "We agreed that no matter what happens, even if this project just becomes a hobby, even if music's not our career, we're just always gonna write music that we love and that fulfills us," says Mercedes.
In the summer of 2020, Mercedes and Phoenix started writing songs for a new project, though they weren't sure what it would be. "We were conscious that we didn't want to be, for lack of a better term, a Warped Tour band," says Mercedes. That was well-trodden territory from their days in Courage My Love. "We wanted to be dream pop, we wanted to be indie and we wanted to have a cooler vibe."
Working in their home studio with Phoenix producing, the duo layered guitar tracks on top of one another, actively trying to muddy or sludge up their sound. But where their instrumentals sounded opaque, their lyrics were anything but. Frustrated at their inability to act as they watched racial justice protests roil the US, the sisters tapped into a deep well of anger brought about from years of dealing with sexist attitudes and actions.
"We've experienced a lot of misogyny and ignorance being women in the music scene and, unfortunately, experienced abuse," says Mercedes. "We never really made a conscious choice that that's what we wanted [Softcult] to be. But then the music started speaking for itself. With the mindset that we were in, that's just what was naturally coming out."
Mercedes and Phoenix still have the same managers that took Courage My Love under their wings when the twins were teenagers. It was only at their managers' urging that they even considered signing with a label again. "They had high hopes for the project, even when Phoen and I were like, 'This is just going to be this thing we do for fun,'" remembers Mercedes.
Their business team was whittled down from dozens to two after they signed with independent UK-based label Easy Life Records. Says Mercedes, "They're so supportive. They still guide the ship behind the scenes. But in terms of creative stuff, they really just let us do whatever we want."
At the beginning of 2021, they started releasing tracks one at a time, often accompanied by new issues of their zine, SCripture, designed by Phoenix and music videos directed by Mercedes. Put together, the music, words and images mix together '50s women's fashion, '90s punk feminism and '00s mall goth into an aesthetic that's connected with fans and critics alike — their Spotify page already boasts more than 230,000 monthly listers, as of this writing. "Our confidence was pretty low when we started releasing these songs. It's been a really awesome surprise how well it's done," says Mercedes.
Year of the Snake doubles down on everything that made its predecessor great: the songs are heavier, the hooks stickier and lyrics more personally felt. "There's definitely a shift in tone," reflects Mercedes. "I think the songs in general have a bit of a darker feel and are just heavier. It definitely feels like the more sad, angry EP."
In Courage My Love's final years, the Arn-Horns wrote "hundreds" of songs in an effort to please their corporate overlords. "It's kind of gross, but in our mind, it was almost like this daddy figure," says Mercedes. It's a dynamic the sisters explore more broadly in Year of the Snake's "Perfect Blue": "Turning slowly / Into someone else / All these words in my mouth aren't mine." Mercedes adds, "You're literally not allowed to release anything unless A&R likes it. You're trying to figure out, 'How can I change myself to be what this person likes?'"
Their efforts were mostly fruitless. With every new batch of rejected songs, "we could feel the enthusiasm dying," Mercedes recalls.
But the practice does seem to have sharpened their already formidable way around a pop hook. Year of the Snake opener "BWBB (Boys Will Be Boys)," for example, is based around a snarling Deftones-esque guitar riff. But it's the menacing delivery of "If there's one in your company, I wonder when they're gonna come for me" that keeps the focus.
"You can either crumble under the bad things that happened to you, or you can say, 'Fuck you,' and strive and push past it," says Mercedes. "It's cathartic for us."
