There's a stark difference between watching an act like the Ting Tings -- a rather well oiled machine -- and an intrepid act like MNDR. She's raw and unpretentious. She's got a style all her own, and she owns it. Watching her transports you; suddenly you are in her world -- a synthed out, underground dance party made for the dirty fancy. Whatever year it might be or what time in space you occupy is not so easy to distinguish, but you feel energized by it. It's eye opening, and it's super fun.
MNDR was so "on the level." Meeting up with her after her performance, it really did feel like I had found my long lost big sister. She's the kind of girl that would call in and pretend to be your mother just to get you out of class. She's also kind of girl you could rage with until the dawn and she'd be the first one up, making sure you weren't late for work. She's got that perfect balance of wild child and undaunted dedication. Even when she's partying, she's working.
"Dude, check out this T-shirt I picked up at a Michigan gas station. Switch blade and blood splatter!" she exclaimed as she showed me pics of her treasures. Having already changed into sweat pants, her and her minimal crew of one were heading straight to Toronto. We shared a chat and a few shots and she was off. It was one of those experiences that you write home about (or blog about). It felt like we were all evolving right there, in light of her existence. Her creativity bounced off her like pollen, like she was producing more than she could carry, thus she pollinated the masses, and those around, including me.
Catch a performance of hers now, because soon she will grow out of herself. Though the transformation will be exciting to watch and her progression should prove to be impressive, there's nothing like being able to say you saw her when she was just a stripped down, gritty cool girl from Brooklyn.