MALLS

Malls is a San Diego local DIY band who may little recorded to show for their work, but have a whole a lot of spirit and drive to get there. They’re working on mixing and producing their own work, and are playing shows every once in a while.

I sat down with Sophie Parker and Mikki Durgan, two of the four members of Malls, to talk about putting emotion into art, the importance of sensitivity, and avoiding the standard clique that seems to run rampant through the San Diego DIY scene as of late.

It just goes to show how tight-knit a community is when two separately-scheduled interviews run over and the two contributors end up being part of the same band. Running into my next interview’s runtime, I decided to invite both to meet at the same place and time in order to speak with them both before leaving the country the next day. Waiting for coffee with Mikki (who also has her own solo project called Saturdays on Saturn), she told me how she often never made it out to Public Square Coffee House unless it was with her other bandmates, since they lived closeby. And speaking of, Sophie arrived just then, with a flurry of smiles and hello’s, and I came to learn that both were a part of Malls.

Both have been a part of the DIY scene for years, though in relatively different ways. “I’ve been going to shows since I started high school,” Mikki tells me, “and it’s kind of shaped my being, the experiences not only with the people I’ve met, but the places I’ve been.” Coming across new areas of San Diego has been a big part of what she’s enjoyed.

Check out more of Malls on their Instagram, @mallsband

Sophie is a little more on the lowkey side. “I like quiet nights. I don’t always like to go to shows. If I don’t like the band, I probably won’t want to go to the show unless my friend is going.” Being involved in both music and theater (as well as speech and debate), she’s a performer. “I really like playing shows because it’s fun, and I like to talk to people, and I’m not good at dancing but I can make people dance, which is weird. I have some kind of magic: Dance, monkey, dance!” She laughs as she mimes strumming the guitar, hunched over her green tea. “Playing my guitar, and they’re dancing, it’s amazing.”

The fans in the scene are something of a dedicated bunch, more so than you’d expect of someone watching a local band. Being hyped up boosts their confidence in ways that helps with their own insecurities, Mikki says. “I am the epitome of insecurity. The last show that I played, someone screamed out that they loved me, and I was like ‘What the fuck is this. Who the fuck.’ But it was cool that people

like my work.”

But having something on a smaller scale, not playing shows as much, still keeps them humble.

Mikki’s grown since first joining the scene as well, in both good ways and bad. “People helped me find who I am, but also being in the scene has had me figure things out. But also, the downfall of it is finding things out about myself too fast. I was shaping myself to be someone super cool like everyone else, and then I was like, Aah! I don’t want to do this. I’m not myself.” Having been there for so long, it’s no wonder they’ve started to have something of a less-than-positive insight on the group.

One aspect they point out to me is the recent cliques that have developed, especially since DIY stronghold The Che Cafe has gone under construction and bands have had to find new places to showcase their work to an all-ages crowd (since most small venues in the city are bars and thus 21+). “There’s no room

for up-and-coming people who want to get into it, get into it without having to start becoming friends for six months with all of these other people,” Sophie tells me.

“The shows have become one person runs the show, and they’re usually part of the clique, and then they invite all their friends. And that’s it. The music is shit, but because they’re friends with the right people, they can get into all the shows. And nobody cares because they’re not there for the music, they’re there to hang out with that clique. It’s just a mess, and I feel like that’s why we have no diversity in the music scene.”

Mikki finds offense with those people being in a band just to be “cool” and fit in with the clique. “I’m an emotional person, so I put my whole being into it.,” she tells me. Seeing others making art without that same passion and succeeding with it is a very different experience than it was a few years ago. “I mean, it’s toxic, and I used to seek comfort in going to shows and seeing people and being social, because I felt that, otherwise, I wasn’t doing anything with my

life, and I was just sitting at home, grieving over shit that doesn’t matter anymore.”

How is the scene different, then? “It used to be a lot more chill, I guess is the best way you can say it,” Sophie says, “because now I feel judged whenever I go to shows. I feel like everyone’s looking at my outfit and if I fit in or if I don’t, and it feels like middle school times two thousand.”

Mikki continues: “The reason that the toxic people have such a large following is that most of their content is insensitive and driven to be aggressive. But some people are into that.” Sophie agrees: “They give up a lot of empathy and sensitivity.”

But that doesn’t mean they don’t still get involved with the scene. Both being such passionate and driven people, they have their own reasons for not abandoning the arts altogether. “I like being social in a way that’s not directly social,” Mikki says. “I’ve always been very passionate about art, and I feel like if it helps me let out something that I’m feeling, and evokes emotion in other people, that makes me happy. I feel like, a lot of times, we’re

so desensitized from shit in our lives. I’ve really had attacks where I think, what’s real? I don’t know! I just want to create something so raw and real that people can relate to on a specific level. It makes me feel good that other people can use that to their advantage.”

Sophie uses the outlet for much the same way. “I feel like anything can be creative, so I feel like everyone is. Whether or not you’re in the arts, you can be creative. I think everyone needs outlets to express themselves in a way that’s not just, ‘Hi. I’m feeling sad.’ We’re all habitating in our own little realms of grief and sadness and personal problems that creativity and music is for consumption for other people. It helps us go, ‘Oh shit, I’m not the only one with problems.’ And I think that’s really cathartic.”

It seems there’s hope for the scene after all, manifesting itself in people like Malls. We’ll have to keep an eye out for what they achieve in the near future.