Raised by Wolves: Introducing Kaspar Hauser

“This is the worst possible day to meet a band like us,” chuckles Andy Brown, sipping at his beer. “It’s nice and sunny, and we’re sitting outside having a lovely time.”

Well yes; we had tried to hire the necropolis and a few dozen dry-ice machines to aid the ambiance, but this being springtime (and rather pleasant with it), the terrace of a city centre bar will have to suffice.

We’re here to talk Kaspar Hauser – and in particular, the way in which a band’s name is indicative of sound. “I like that it’s a person,” Anne Kastner (bass, vocals) admits. “A stranger that comes into a town and unsettles everybody; that’s the feel that you kind of want.”

“I think the vibe and feeling that people are getting… I would like it to be unsettling.” Which is certainly the case when accosted by the band’s debut EP; a mal-illuminated descent of claustrophobic, post-punk malevolence, unafraid to visit the darker recesses of vaguely retro abrasion.

“90% of white guys with guitars have got fucking nowt to say; I blame The Beatles for all of it” – Josh Longton

Named after the 19th century charlatan who gained notoriety by claiming that he’d been raised by wolves, or imprisoned from birth by a mysterious hooded figure (his tales varied) in order to integrate himself into polite society, there’s something 'other' to both the story and the trio’s sound.

“I thought that was a good name for a band,” drummer Brown says. “I came to it from the Werner Herzog film” – 1974’s The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser.

“I like Werner Herzog films because I’m pretentious,” he laughs. “But even on a weird, aesthetic level it works; the way the words look together.”

“It looks good on posters,” agrees Josh Longton, who shares the trio’s vocal duties alongside his distinctive, churning riff-work.  

“Especially when they spell it right,” Brown continues. “It’s not Casper the Friendly Ghost! But in relation to Kaspar Hauser the film or even the person, it’s that idea of having something that’s very cold and European. If you want to have a metaphor about it, the whole myth of Kaspar Hauser – and it pretty much was a myth – was disregarded as the guy being a fraud, but what lives better, the myth or the reality?”

“Everyone wants to believe this boy who was imprisoned who came to live with the highest of Bavarian society; it’s the idea of someone being so mysterious, which feeds in to how we wanted to sound – dark and aggressive and noisy. A European sound; it’s not American. It’s not indie rock.”

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‘Not indie rock’ being a theme that runs through the interview; not necessarily a surprise when you consider the threesome’s past work, Longton and Kastner having previously been members of The Downs, Brown – currently one-half of the equally dark Ubre Blanca – a former mainstay of experimental noise merchants Divorce.

“The music was quite complementary,” Kastner remembers of the line-ups both Divorce and The Downs featured. “I think we were a wee bit more tuneful, and you were more noisy. So now it’s like the two elements have come together. It’s like that’s the way it should be.”

“When I heard that you had stopped doing stuff, I was bugging you, wasn’t I?” recalls Brown. “‘Let me be your drummer.’ And I was like that for another year. It was chatting at first, obviously, then it was: let’s make a go of it, because I’ve started a million bands with people down the pub that only exist for that night.”

Haven’t we all been in idealised bands that exist for one night only?

“Well, I’ve been in the best band in the world at least five times,” Longton wisecracks, leaving Brown to explain in a different fashion.

“It’s a whole different way of doing music. It’s instantaneous. It’s like punk rock.”

Like punk rock, but also very different. In fact, there’s something of the G word to Kaspar Hauser. The creeping skeins of darkness amidst the attitude. Yes; it’s time for goth to intrude into the conversation.

“I suppose that with the guitar sound, people associate it as that thing but I don’t listen to a lot of goth bands,” Longton explains of both the music and his lyrics. “I like Siouxsie and I like the Cure, but outside of that I don’t listen to any of the stuff that’s similar to that. It’s not about trying to sound like Bauhaus.”

Brown: “We were deliberately starting a band that said: 'You know how I sound, I know how you sound, and we’ll just work out how we will complement each other.'”

Longton: “It’s got associations about certain types of words; but you’re not going to hear me sing ‘Oh, my heart is black as stone,’ or anything like that.”

Brown: “There is definitely music that we like instinctively rather than it being chasing after a certain sound.”

Longton: “I am aware that there’s a lot of bands around at the moment where they sound like something from the ‘80s and a lot of them don’t do it that well. Some of them are really good, but I’m not sure why they’re doing that, if you know what I mean.”

Brown: “As in trying to work out their intentions?”

Longton: “Yeah. I don’t know if it’s a fashion thing, but for me I don’t really like – for example – putting a chorus pedal on because I didn’t like how the guitar sounds when it’s just straight in. Then it becomes blues-tinged rock.”

Blues-tinged rock not gaining favour in this particular corner of Glasgow. “90% of white guys with guitars have got fucking nowt to say,” Lancastrian Longton adds. “And I blame The Beatles for all of it.”

So don’t expect Kaspar Hauser to be gurning it up on The Ed Sullivan Show anytime soon. Instead, a handful of Glasgow gigs showcasing the debut EP – a get-up-and-go compulsion that speaks of devotion to momentum. Not that you’ll get much truck from the concept of DIY.

Brown, again: “This is going to sound counter-intuitive but I’m kind of sick of people making a big deal of the DIY aesthetic being an aesthetic. It’s not a fucking aesthetic, it’s a method. You’re a band – all you’re doing is putting your own shows on – you’re still a shite band or a good band. When did DIY become a sound or a genre?”

Kastner: “It was 'DIY equals cool' for a while. Just stick DIY in front of it and it’ll sound brilliant. “

Brown: “I genuinely think that if you’re talking about DIY it’s just a means to an end. I don’t know why some people think it’s some dark art to put on a show. You can do it yourself as long as you’re prepared to put the legwork in. We did some recording ourselves and stuck them up on SoundCloud, and that’s how things got moving. If you hold on too closely to your recordings and think that’s where you’re going to earn money from, well, it’s the internet now. No-one makes money from recordings, but it’s currency; it gets you out there.”

Longton: “I just want as many people to hear it as possible. I don’t care if loads of people like it or not, but I’d rather it was out there for consideration.”

Brown: “The best thing is: we did it, we were in control of it, and we made it sound as good as it possibly could.”

And with that: more laughter, the subsequent photoshoot (complete with a bunch of flowers press-ganged into action as if some Morrissey homage) subverting notions of gothdom. Dark and foreboding Kaspar Hauser certainly are, but there’s a knowing wink amid the dry ice.