The Coathangers

By Jason James

Photo by Bobb Lovett

They didn’t have the gummy worms, so I had to get the gummy bears,” sighs Minnie Coathanger, bassist for Atlanta’s prolific party-rock band, The Coathangers. As she seamlessly leans back into the rhythm of the next song, the unfortunate animal shape of the chewy candy seems to be the biggest dilemma with the practice on this night.

The group, comprised of Minnie, guitarist The Crook Kid Coathanger, keyboardist Bebe Coathanger and drummer Rusty Coathanger, began as a farce of sorts. “We never intended to even be a band really; it was really kind of just a big joke,” recounts The Crook Kid. “We played a house show and The Hiss asked us to open for them after that.” The band has not taken itself too seriously since its haphazard beginnings. With song titles such as “Nestle in My Boobies,” “Don’t Touch My Shit” and “Mustache Ride,” one might dismiss them as a novelty group of sorts.

All members hail from places outside of Atlanta originally except Rusty, with Minnie transplanting from Massachusetts, Bebe hailing from Rome, Georgia and The Crook Kid crossing the hemisphere from Russia. But all have made a place for themselves here and look to expand their brand of party rock into new terrains.

But all jokes aside, the girls have exceeded their own expectations for what they sought out to do: make everyone dance. The group’s carefree, lighthearted interplay both in the practice space and on stage is reminiscent of four adolescent friends just having fun with their instruments, disregarding what anyone else thinks. This laissez-faire front has brought The Coathangers positive results, as the response to their shenanigans has been tremendous. In less than a year, the four have managed to release their own demo (complete with lovingly hand-sewn covers), land opening slots for local powerhouses such as Deerhunter, The Selmanaires and The Carbonas, and release a 7-inch for the Die Slaughterhaus label.

The Coathangers’ music floats somewhere in between the highlights of Bikini Kill, Pylon and Talking Heads, while the band members maintain a keen sarcasm and a certain oneness about their own musical abilities. This approach leads to them constantly changing instruments on stage. The four self-anointed ladies of leisure juggle duties on vocals, drums, keyboards, bass, and guitars; they also take to more unusual music makers, such as childrens’ toys and mini xylophones.

In the live arena, the girls play up their party atmosphere by showering the stage with balloons and confetti. They are also known to bring treats for the audience in the form of cookies and “goodie bags” stocked with various noisemakers, streamers and bubble wands. Rusty accounts, “We wanted to make cupcakes, but the frosting would have been a real mess, getting in everyone’s hair and everything.”

The Coathangers’ DIY management style has translated into a semi-grassroots merchandise frenzy, with the group designing their own show posters, CD labels and t-shirts. The buzz around the band is growing, although at a small price of frustration. “After sewing the tenth CD label, you get to wishing you didn’t take on the task all by yourself,” jokes The Crook Kid. “But it is fun to have your hands in everything!”

www.myspace.com/fuckthecoathangers