Exploring the Cubby Collective

By Emily Baxter

Part 1: The Cubby

Capybaras are a severely underappreciated animal.

Distant relatives of the guinea pig, these gentle giants are capable swimmers and have the ability to befriend practically any creature they come into contact with. Seeing an album with a capybara’s friendly face on the front was a treat enough, not to mention the clever wordplay in its title. Who Remembers Kathy Barra? (2001) is the second EP of San Francisco-based band The Cubby Creatures, and a largely undiscovered gem. I had a few expectations based on the cover and the first few tracks - it appeared to be a goofy, lighthearted concept album about a girl whose resemblance to the noble (yet terribly silly looking) capybara caused her much grief in her school years.

It does start out this way. The band muse on how they used to pick on Kathy in the introductory track, exclaiming their surprise that she responded after they let her know that they’d written a song about her. The titular track begins with a breathy question: “Who remembers Kathy Barra? / The girl who we all thought resembled a rat”. A plodding bassline leads the march, accompanied by violin and clarinet singing in harmony, sparse piano chords, and a simple drum beat. There’s a certain warmth to the song; not only due to the cosiness of the folksy instrumental, but also the running narrative of self-acceptance and letting go of the childish bullying we’ve all been complicit in at some point in our lives. The song's outro repeats that Kathy will be ok and no longer has to act like a rodent. No longer is she “so picked on [he] thought she would bleed” (one of the first examples of the incredible metaphors throughout this musical escapade). Following ‘Kathy Barra’ is the first of many interludes in which Kathy Barra herself is interviewed, albeit very briefly. She’s barely audible, whispering in a hoarse, ghostly voice due to her laryngitis. The interviewer sounds condescending - speaking to her like one might speak to a child who they need to convince that their barely legible scribbles are worthy of a place on the fridge - and then applauds her for suggesting they share some food together. The ideas put forward in the previous song seem to have been thrown out the window in service of treating Kathy like a spectacle. Things are getting a little bit weird. ‘Knitting Bee’ comes next, a short-but-sweet metaphor facilitating a knitting group as a sort of group therapy, where they’ll “knit everything together”. There are some gorgeous vocal harmonies on this track, and the violin and clarinet compliment each other beautifully. Though the focus has shifted from Ms. Barra entirely, I was looking forward to the rest of the EP carrying this light, bubbly energy onward.

But as soon as ‘Knitting Bee’ comes to a close, Who Remembers Kathy Barra? starts to metamorphose into something… strange. ‘Interlude 2: What Is the Cubby?’ consists of a reverb-heavy conversation between two people. A feminine voice responds to the question in the title:

“Uh… what is the Cubby?

That’s like saying what is love, what is peace, y’know?

It can be anything you want it to be really, the Cubby…

The Cubby’s about... love, it’s about... healing, it’s about praxis,

It’s about creating, it’s about art, [...]

It’s about… changing the world, through…

Through what you have inside.”

Following a further question, they respond again: “Everybody, EVERYBODY has the Cubby inside”. The conversation echoes out into ‘Diseases’, and the energy shifts completely. The song is slow and shrouded in an air of mystery, the violin and clarinet now clashing. The same instruments that created a comfortable and cosy atmosphere in the previous tracks are dissonant and awkward. There’s a discomfort - not in the music itself, but in the stark change from the kitschiness of the previous tracks. The lyrics reflect this change well: “You should always know your own diseases / You should always take good care of them”. The act of “taking care” in this instance doesn’t seem to be one of caution, rather compassion - lovingly minding one's diseases is an uncomfortable thought, to say the least. As the track continues, the instrumental builds in intensity with the introduction of a commanding drum beat. The tone of the lyrics change from mild-yet-bizarre suggestions to demands from a self-important, omnipotent deity: “You should always dream about your future / Even if you cannot dream of me”. When the vocalist claims “You should feel free to be free”, it doesn’t feel genuine. ‘Diseases’ kicks into a dissonant hyperdrive, its distorted violin and speedy drum fills taking you by surprise. The lyrics here start out like a valiant response to the cultish indoctrination of the rest of the track: “You wanna have me, you wanna teach me, you wanna reach me”. But, the song ends with an admission of defeat: “Turn the lights out and give me your disease”.

It gets weirder from there.

‘Interlude 3: It’s Time to Go to Sleep’ is a minute-long repetitive chant that quite easily could put you to sleep if you weren’t so confused by the EP’s sudden tonal u-turn. The accompanying percussion is reminiscent of older Animal Crossing games, when you would put all of your Gyroids in one room just to see how the chirps, beeps, bonks, and taps would sound together. After being lulled into a deep sleep, ‘Samy’ feels like the surreal carnival nightmare that you are desperately trying to claw your way out of. The tempo oscillating from fast, to slow, to fast again mirrors the way you run in your dreams. You know that you’re going as fast as you possibly can but your actions just don’t match what you think you’re doing; all of your appendages flail wildly as you’re filled with a fear that you know is irrational. ‘Interlude 4: Excerpt from the Cubby Bible, Book I: Begin Where You Are’ is flat out disturbing. Multiple voices monotonously read aloud whilst a typewriter taps furiously in the background:

“‘I must either heal it, or kill it!’ Charlie shouted, still holding the struggling cat above his

head under the fluorescent kitchen lights. A sparkle on the counter attracted his eye. He glanced

and there he saw a shiny, silver butcher knife. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then, with a

loud sigh, he collapsed on the muck smeared linoleum.”

There’s something deeply unnerving about all of this. Why are they speaking with so little enthusiasm? Why are the words being typed out? Is the Cubby Bible a work in progress, being narrated by multiple mouthpieces? Why is there a Cubby Bible? What is the Cubby? Can it really be all about love, creativity, and art, when this is what is written in its scripture? 

 And then, in perhaps the weirdest turn of all, the EP finishes on ‘Bean (Is Just a Super Rodent)’. Back to the happy, bouncy tone that we heard all the way back at the beginning. This track sounds a bit like the opening theme song to a whimsical children’s cartoon, especially once you hear the recorder counter-melody. The narrator, presumably Bean, explains how, though they might be a super rodent, they are just like us, walking on their hind legs and having been born in a toxic wasteland. If it weren’t for the off-kilter lyrics here, it would feel like the Cubby Creatures were trying to gaslight you into thinking that none of that weird shit happened at all.

I wanted to understand why this EP was so bizarre, and who exactly the Cubby Creatures are. Little did I know the ridiculously deep rabbit hole I was about to stumble into.

Part 2: The Collective

The Cubby Creatures are the musical arm of a larger art movement known as The Cubby Collective. But what on earth is a Cubby? In a literal sense, the Cambridge Dictionary defines a “cubby” as a small storage space, a.k.a. a cubbyhole. Through The Cubby Creatures, we already have a partial definition of Cubby with a capital C, given in the second interlude of WRKB?. The Cubby, likely narrated in this instance by violinist Emily Limòn, is about love, creativity, and praxis, and can be anything you want it to be. Looking a little deeper, we can get something more tangible.

According to the Cubby Creatures’ Wikipedia page, the Cubby is an art-based philosophy of living which they aim to spread word of through their various artistic antics. We can gain further clarity on the Cubby through one of the Cubby Collective’s non-musical projects, Cubbyvision. Cubbyvision aired on San Francisco's public access channel 29 from 2000 to 2002, though the first two episodes have, save a few missing moments, been uploaded in multiple parts to this YouTube channel. The first video on this channel, uploaded 12 years ago, contains a reading from the first book of the Cubby Bible, ‘Begin Where You Are’. The Virgin Mary arrives at a house in Florida to impart her wisdom upon its inhabitants, but first requests that they do the dishes and fix her a drink. She then lights a cigarette and begins:

“Cubby is God, and God is Cubby. You must worship the Cubby. The Cubby must become the

focus of your lives. You, children of Florida, have Cubby understanding. Most people do have

Cubby understanding, but many don’t yet realise it. You’re lucky. You’re getting a visitation from

the Virgin Mary to open your eyes to the Cubby reality. Not everyone gets such proof positive of

the Cubby’s existence, and because you are so fortunate, it is incumbent upon you to share this

understanding with all your friends - everyone you meet.”

There seems to be a throughline between all the Cubby Collective’s works that toes the line between silly, off-the-wall surrealism and genuine cult-like indoctrination. Cubbyvision reflects this perfectly - the volume fluctuates hugely, depending on whether the person speaking can find a microphone or not, and right from the stilted introductory portion the show seems to have been put together with a bit of duct tape and a dream. The show’s host, Huck Forest, dons a dodgy blond-bob wig and stick-on mustache. When he speaks, he looks almost like a Muppet due to the over-exaggeration of his mouth movements, and the wrap-around sunglasses completely covering his eyes only add to the uncanniness he emanates.

Following the bible reading, a man named Brian is interviewed, and mentions that in addition to receiving a visit from the Virgin Mary to spread word of the Cubby, he also witnessed the late Linda McCartney. In the same interview, Huck tells Brian that the reading deserves a “big chop”, before a loud “HIII-YAH” accompanies a strong, swift, downward thrust of his hand. It all seems too tongue-in-cheek to be serious, but thinking back to Kathy Barra, this flitting between ominous weirdness and silly joking is the norm. Later on in the episode, we are introduced to the Smartest Girl in San Francisco: an unmoving mannequin head wearing a wig, glasses, and a pink lei. In answering Huck’s first question, she embarks on a tangent about how happy hours are one of her favourite American inventions, and explains why there aren’t many cocktails containing eggs or cream (due, of course, to the original cocktail hours having been created in order to get guests talking amongst each other without filling them up too much).

The Cubby Bible was first printed in issue one of the Cubby Missalette, the Cubby Collective’s zines which were in print as recently as 2017. ‘Missalette’ is a very striking choice of name: a missalette is a small pamphlet given out at the beginning of a church service containing the biblical readings, hymns, and prayers for a given day. Most of the issues from over the years are available via PDF through their website, and vary wildly in their content: from Rico Dominguez’s ‘The Fantastic Machine’ featured in issue seven, which describes in great detail an intricate and grand machine whose presence alone dictates the social interactions of an entire town, to Rachel Jean Diaz’s ‘Girl on Girl’ from issue thirteen, an explicit, autobiographical account of her repeated patronage to a local booth-based strip club. The Smartest Girl in San Francisco has an Agony Aunt-esque column in most issues, answering questions in a similarly confusing and long winded way to that of her first appearance on Cubbyvision. In issue eight, for example, she delegates the question of ‘Why don’t sheep shrink in the rain?’ to a local SPCA employee, to ensure her readers are getting the most accurate answer possible. It might not seem like issues of the Missalette are entirely focused on the core Cubby values, but their dedication to spreading messages of love, kindness, and art, is consistent.

Of course, Who Remembers Kathy Barra? is not the only musical project produced by the Cubby Creatures.

Before Kathy, there was The Blessed Invention (2000), an hourlong, equally bizarre mix of kitsch folk and dissonant pious ramblings. ‘Amorphous Love Song’ is a standout track due to it making me quite uncomfortable: whether it’s because of the out-of-tune guitar, the constant clashing of the violin and clarinet, or the underlying message that the only reason the two voices are in love is the fear of being alone, I couldn’t say. After the Deprogramming (2005), displays an evolution in the band’s sound. Whether it’s due to access to higher quality recording equipment or simply the need to try something new, this album feels slightly more accessible to those uninitiated to the Cubby. The fuzzy, guitar-led rock sound combined with the janky strings and impassioned vocals of their previous works creates something that sounds like the lovechild of the Mountain Goats, Beat Happening, and the White Stripes, all wrapped up in a single package. Their most recent release, Jesus Christ, You’re Crazy (2017), is a recording of their 2005 rock opera - obviously not their only rock opera, although traces of the music of The World of Tina are scarce (there are some pictures and script excerpts).

After all of this, I still feel I’ve barely scratched the surface of the Cubby Creatures. I equally feel as if I’ve been let into a well-hidden secret society, whose intentions I still can’t quite put my finger on, but who would welcome me or anyone else with open arms and a slightly disconcerting song and dance. I have to respect those who can dedicate their lives so wholly and completely to art, and the Cubby Creatures are a prime example of such outstanding individuals.