Relaxing backstage in the dressing room at Chicago's Double Door before their first show on their first American tour, Siobhan De Mare and Martin Virgo of Mono prefer to chat about things like Charlie's Angels, Jerry Springer, and their love of American accents rather than their own music.
Their sound check runs over and they come in late, apologizing and mourning over how ridiculous they look in press photos.
"That bloody dress!" De Mare says, sighing. "And Martin in those bloody glasses! What are you like?"
"I've only worn them once and that was it," he says, trying to make up for it.
"But I like the trauma in my eyes," she says. "That's all I care about, as long as there's trauma in the eyes."
De Mare and Virgo are pretty unlikely pop stars, almost as unlikely as they are partners. They're the first to admit they are complete opposites, and De Mare seems to get off on making Virgo as embarrassed as she can.
"You look like an '80s pop producer in those big, round glasses," she says, teasingly.
She also refers to him constantly as Charlie, which is both his middle name and his wife's ex-husband's name.
"And you think that's very funny," he says, blushing.
"Yes, we think that's very funny. And we also call him that because of Charlie's Angels. He dresses up as all three Charlies."
De Mare and Virgo were first introduced in the summer of '96 by a mutual friend who suggested they do some work together. De Mare had been fooling around with music for some time, and Virgo was well known as a producer, having worked on albums with Bjork and Massive Attack. Although they had only completed a song and a half, they quickly were signed to a label, much to their surprise.
"We just thought we'd do some tracks that we'd like, and we got signed on the strength of virtually nothing," De Mare explains. "We didn't know anyone else in the world would actually hear it or like it. It caused a major crisis because we just looked at each other and were like, oh my god, what are we going to do? So Martin went missing for six months and I left the country."
Shortly thereafter, Formica Blues was released in Europe, and the band broke America due to a phone call from producers who wanted to use their first single, "Life in Mono," for the Great Expectations soundtrack.
"We were in rehearsal, and they yelled out to us, 'they want to use your track in a film with Robert Dinero, is that OK?'" De Mare says. "We just went, 'yeah, OK,' and then we got back to rehearsal and that was it."
As for their impressions of the movie they've given their song to?
"Uh...," De Mare says, making a strained face. " I think it's one of those movies that's going to do., um, ...well. If you like Flubber, you'll like Great Expectations."
And after a long pause, "I'm going to get killed for saying that!"
They are very nonchalant about their quick rise to fame, especially in America. Both agree that they don't feel particularly successful yet.
"We didn't even expect dinner tonight," De Mare says.
The music press in England, known for it's flavor-of-the-month attitude towards bands, was nice to Mono, and the reviews were positive. However, there was never any kind of big promotion for the album, nor a huge rush from the public to go and buy it.
"It was more like a humble offering of some material that the record company and us sort of liked," De Mare says.
Virgo is amazed at the difference between the American radio scene and the fickle attitude of radio in the U.K.
"Bands in England come and go much quicker," he says. "We can't believe how long a record stays around over here. It's in the chart and then you expect it to stay about two or three months, which is completely bizarre. It's in one week and out the next in England."
Virgo, who was trained as a classical pianist, says that he never intended to pursue that mode of work. "My mum was a piano teacher," he explains. "I was rebelling against that. It also takes very high standards to become a concert pianist, and I'm just not good enough, really."
But mum is very proud of Martin, and he sent her a copy of the CD, which he says she loves dearly.
De Mare's first recording project was singing vocals over some rap beats on a record released as a white label. As a one-off project, De Mare wants to make it clear once and for all that she never intended to become a female rap artist.
"What it is, right, is it's blown out of proportion," she says, laughing. "People seem to think that me and Snoop Doggy Dogg did an album together in 1987. I went into the studio and did some stupid childish poetry over some beats and suddenly the whole thing in the press was that I was some bloody MC Lyte or something. I was like, 'what?' It was quite funny."
Mono has gotten compared in practically every article to female-led bands like Stereolab and Portishead, a fact that doesn't bother De Mare or Virgo at all.
"They always compare bands to other bands--they don't feel safe otherwise," De Mare says. "Luckily all of the bands are really cool, so it's always a compliment. When they start saying Aqua, then no..."
"Or the Partridge family," Virgo chides.
"Yeah, then you might start to get a bit depressed and suicidal, but so far, so good," she says,laughing.
Mono is different, however, in that their record shows up in stores displayed in various categories.
"It's placed in rock, pop, alternative, and in one of the stores in England, I think it's even in soul," Virgo says. "I think that's a good thing, you know."
But enough about their music--De Mare wants to know how she can get on the Jerry Springer show while in Chicago.
"I don't know what I could make up, though," she explains. And within seconds, she launches into a perfectly executed "talk-to-the-hand" move, complete with a pretty realistic American accent.
"You think that I'm all that!" she yells.
"You want your own show, that's what it is, isn't it?" Virgo says, laughing.
"I know you're working with me, but I know you want me!" she tries again. "One of those?"
