Hot Mulligan: “We cut our teeth in basements… We’re doing pretty much the same thing now but really loud, and on a stage that’s slightly higher”

Tades attributes both the lifestyle of being in a band and struggling to adjust to how Hot Mulligan have been judged by some detractors – with their star continuing to rise – as factors that worsened his condition.

“People are scary,” is his initial response, before taking a deep dive into what he views as the process by which some people blithely use Hot Mulligan's ever-increasing popularity as an excuse to dehumanise him and his bandmates.

“The scene that I idealised when we started has changed into sort of this monster version of itself, where the community is in the bands, and the people outside of that who are understanding or empathetic to 'band people' and band life stuff are few and far between,” he continues. “The dehumanisation, when your band starts doing well, gets fucking harsher and harsher and harsher. People don't care. They don't talk about you like you're a person anymore, y'know? You're an entity outside. You're something to be critiqued.”

Despite this existential torment and the downbeat nature of their lyrics, Hot Mulligan are, ironically, often painted as emo's good-time boys. Slackers poking fun at the misery industrial complex of modern life with complicated song titles and catchy tunes because it's a coping mechanism that helps them as much as their audience.

Since the advent of their breakout third album, 2023's Why Would I Watch, that audience has grown rapidly and enthusiastically. In the past two years, there's been a support slot under Fall Out Boy at Madison Square Garden and a ton of triumphant festival sets, including Slam Dunk, Riot Fest and Outbreak. Their struggle now, it appears, is to rise above being dismissed as the “Walmart version” of emo, as Chris puts it.

Like Tades, Chris is wary of the aspects of fame that threaten to bog them down and reduce him and his bandmates – lead guitarist Ryan ‘Spicy’ Malicsi, drummer Brandon Blakeley and bassist Jonah Kramer – to caricatures.

“I don't mind doing photoshoots or videos, because some of that stuff is part of the art,” he says. “But I also mostly try to avoid public life around concerts and going out and talking to people, because I'd rather just focus on the music.”

Which leads us back to The Sound A Body Makes…. Like its predecessor, it was written and recorded in the studio by a group who appear to have perfected the art of locking in, while also giving themselves space to experiment. Although this time, the band did break up their sessions into chunks of two to three weeks, making the five-month total they spent writing and recording less arduous than before.

“Wherever we're at, all together, inspiration-wise, kind of determines the sonic theme,” reveals Chris of the process. “If we're like, 'Oh, we want to try a new vibe here,' it's normally incorporating a new instrument, like a drum machine or a synthesiser. Sometimes it doesn't work. We tried a couple more synth-heavy ones on this record that didn't make the cut because it just wasn't the right move. I'd say it's 50/50 on if we try something new and it's like, 'Hell yeah, that's awesome!'”

And as the sense of anticipation grows amongst fans, so does the band's excitement about it.

“The best part of it all, I would say, is just making the new song, and then it's like, 'Oh, fuck yes, it's time to play a new one and feel the benefits of the fruits of our labours,' or whatever the fuck that saying is,” Chris continues.

“You're making me question [the phrase],” Tades laughs, “but either way, that's the thing. It's about finally being able to play new fucking songs. I mean, the moment you have something new that you're excited enough to release, it's like, 'Goddamn it, now I want to do that one!'”

Another constant since Hot Mulligan's early days is picking lengthy song titles derived from esoteric in-jokes or fleeting references to something the band may have now forgotten, or just don't feel like explaining.

“People are pretending that the new song titles are so much more fucked than the last ones,” chides Tades, “but [more than] Cock Party 2 (Better Than The First)? We've had ridiculous, really stupid song titles for a long time, and this is just adding to the pile.”

“If I can't remember the meaning behind one, I just ask Tades,” admits Chris. “They get passed around like lore. If you know, you know.”

“Or we could just lie to you, if you ask,” chuckles Tades. “We have no incentive not to, y'know? We'll just straight-up fucking lie to you." He laughs again, their subversive sense of humour cracking the surface. “That's a Hot Mulligan promise!”

The title of the first single from the new album, And A Big Load, is fairly innocuous in the grand scheme of things – assuming it isn't a direct sequel to Cock Party 2, at least – and will no doubt be enthusiastically added to their live show, judging by how the pair warm to the topic of refreshing a setlist that has at times threatened to be held hostage to their hits and fervent requests for deep cuts from their back catalogue.

Hearing Chris and Tades spiral off into discussing how best to integrate their new material is like being in the audience of a two-man show. It's clear that the bond between these contrasting characters – Tades prone to brusquely assessing the world around him, Chris more inclined to strike conciliatory notes – has been forged at least partly by their shared goal of combining and channelling their considerable creative powers into each new set of songs that they produce.

“I always look forward to the challenge of getting back to recapturing a new song live after you've sat down and played it 10 times in front of the computer to get it right for the recording,” says Chris. “Bed Bug Island is filled mostly with acoustic guitar instead of electric guitar, so it'll be cool to see if we decide to play an actual acoustic guitar with that or make it a little heavier with an electric.”

“I don't know what the fuck we're going to do for vocals on that one live,” admits Tades, “because the others were busy [in the studio], so it was just me and our producer, Brett [Romnes], and we were like, 'What if we made a sort-of chorus, just all, like, big-vocal stuff?' The long-held notes were really boring at first, and then it was, 'Well, I guess we just keep adding layers until it's a big, mean chord.' And so now there's probably six or seven different vocal tracks going down. I really don't want to do [backing] tracks, but I don't know how else we're going to fucking pull it off."

“We'll figure it out,” Chris assures him, before switching back to the topic of playing new tracks. “The first time you perform it, it always feels like the first time you perform it, no matter how many times you crushed it at practice or rehearsal or whatever. But then after the second or third show, you forget that you ever had to practice it.”

The pair credit their keenness to blood new songs live as part of the driving force behind their proficiency in writing and recording music. In-between The Sound A Body Makes When It's Still and Why Would I Watch, Hot Mulligan released the Warmer Weather EP in 2024, the three tracks from which have already established themselves as fan favourites.

Asked what else they think is notable about their shows, Tades reverts back to Hot Mulligan's trademark self-deprecating humour.

“I guess the one pervasive thing that I've seen is that no-one can understand what the fuck I'm saying,” he says. “Yeah, I'm just screaming, fucking, crying havoc for nothing!”

Some things remain personal and permanent, however. Unpicking the meaning behind Hot Mulligan's songs has in the past peeled back the layers on the discontent caused by Tades' Baptist upbringing and a personal tragedy during his teens that shattered his faith for good.

“Religion has fucked up my life,” he confirms. “That's permanent. There's no getting over that… Its design is to make an 'other' and when you're a kid all you see is the other, you don't bother learning about the people behind it.

“After my brother died in a car crash when he was 19, I was done with God,” he continues, “because if that's part of his plan, then I don't like him and I don't like his plan.” He gives a wry laugh. “I was already pretty sketchy on the whole thing, because I had sat down and thought about why I feel the way I do and why I should feel guilty. [The idea that] my body is only a thing that can do sin, y'know? My uncle told me the story of Lot from the Bible and all it told me was that God will take everything from you for no reason that you could ever understand, and expect you to be fine with that.”

“I tried to go to church once to hang out with my friends, as a kid,” adds Chris, “and my parents said, 'You don't want to do that.'" This draws another, slightly heartier laugh from his bandmate.

Chris continues, “I would say, from when I was 12 years old onward, I got done with school and went home and played the drums until my hands bled and then did it again.”

Bleeding hands is somewhat Christ-like, Kerrang! offers, drawing another laugh from Tades.

“They were just callouses," Chris replies, before citing more recent, difficult periods that have fuelled his writing. “My grandpa was an alcoholic, and I've got some other family members with drug-use stuff that I kind of touched on with the last album. My grandpa has passed, but I just got around to writing a song for that on this record.”

On a lighter note, the pair do highlight healthy relationships with their respective fathers. Tades penned The Sound A Body Makes…'s closing track for his dad (“The best dude I know”) while Chris' father gets both a namecheck on Mix Master Wade On The Beat and the opportunity to do some backing vocals. “He was playing music when I was growing up and writing songs in his nu-metal band,” says Chris, “so that's kind of how I learned to scream, a little bit.”

This mix of light and dark looks set to continue. Tades might've shunned organised religion, but Hot Mulligan's music appears to be giving him and his bandmates some salvation, in their own slacker-cool, unassuming way.

“It rings very true that having an ego, almost universally, is a pretty bad thing,” he says. “Acknowledging that you're good at shit is cool, and when other people can help you understand when you're good at shit is also cool, but you can't proclaim that for yourself, you know? You have to just do what you want and hope it's okay, and then someone will let you know if you've done okay… It feels weird that it's been over 10 years of doing this thing, but I still like doing the thing!”

Chris concurs. “Sometimes you're still in the studio [thinking], 'Do I even know how to write a song?' or, 'Am I good enough to be doing this at all?'” He gives a wry, final chuckle. “Does that even matter to begin with? I'm just doing it anyways, so might as well take it in my stride.”

The Sound A Body Makes When It's Still is out now via Wax Bodega

Read this next:

• Pierce The Veil: “We’ve built this whole world where we can do anything creatively, and it’s so satisfying and comforting”
• 20 era-defining Myspace bands: Where are they now?
• Hot Mulligan: “Everything fell into place… There’s a lot less searching and a lot more finding, y’know?”