Artist Spotlight: Mulch Cult’s Surfing Rockabilly Noise Keeps Jigging Forward

Austin favorite Mulch Cult continues to cultivate gardens and rock music. Playing swampy, mulchy noise riddled with ‘50s twangs, the band impresses audiences while flying by the seat of their belt buckles. 

Written by Rachel Joy Thomas

Design by Asha Roundtree

Mulch Cult, a garden variety from Austin, Texas, has been making a ruckus in the weird city’s music landscape. The gardening ensemble, made up of landscape undertakers like Kevin Claver (otherwise known as Mennie Du’Kempt, vocals and guitar), Igor Suzoynkavitch (vocals, bass), Kero Rew (also known as Noah Colbeck, drums), and Dunk Juncus (baritone guitarist), enjoys outdoor activities in the daylight juxtaposed by complete, hot-blooded rock chaos at night. 

Proven as such during its live performances, the band has made a name for itself for its bits, jigs, hollers, and too-good-to-be-true music. Its unique combination of surfer and outlaw influences makes it one of Austin'se most interesting musical fusionn. Combined with absolute chicanery, Mulch Cult has developed a solid backdrop as a local favorite jam band. 

The band increased its cult following with a lively performance at Empire Control Room. Opening for Intensive Care Unit’s album release party, the band smashed through tracks from its previous projects, Gulch! and Bulch!, with a few unreleased add-ons. 

Before the concert, Claver and Rew shared a small but illuminating secret: The band had not practiced together in a month, had no ordained setlist, and planned to vibe through the show. And vibe it did, with impeccable strength a la Pixies; anytime a band member wanted to start a song they would play the beginning notes and let them trickle out. Everyone else simply followed, and it worked wonders.  

Tracks like “Scionic Astronaut” and “Screw You” excited the audience, deeply embedding themselves into audience members' brains. “Screw You”’s fast-paced fingerstyle paired nicely with Claver’s vocals. 

During “Texas Twister,” the entire band performed a well-practiced jig: It took two steps to the right and crouched like bandits hiding for cover from stray bullets, aptly fitting the song’s slight country roots. 

In one moment during their show, Claver took a token from concertgoer Robert Hammerschmidt — a small plastic Jesus figure — and tossed it into his mouth before returning to the stage. He performed an entire song before spitting out the object and giving it back to Hammerschmidt, who then washed the figure in Empire Control Room’s bathrooms before pocketing it. 

At another high point, Claver handed his guitar to an audience member, locked and ready to play. Said fan strummed at the guitar for a few confused moments as the lead vocalist hopped off the stage, walked to the bar, and got a beer. He returned with a Lone Star in hand, ready to continue playing. 

Suzoynkavitch often cued new tracks with a quick, evocative bass line and enthusiastically sang backing vocals while vibrating with the mulchy psychedelia. Classically trained, the bass player practically oozed skill, matching nostalgic baritone guitar riffs while capturing Mulch’s eclectic essence. 

Organic, rootsy, and occasionally crunchy, the band’s energy remained at a constant, splattery buzz. The garden folk’s ‘50s twangs and occasionally surfadelic baritone guitar filled the venue with playful energy. Like many Austin bands, it finished the opening set with “King of The Hill”’s theme before settling into the crowd to watch psychedelic band and second opener, Neon Lemon. 

Rew and Claver, the band’s creators, met spontaneously and became fast music collaborators. They decided on a whim after knowing each other briefly that they wanted to break into Austin City Limits. A now famous story, the duo climbed over Austin City Limits fences 10 years before “Mulch Cult” came to fruition and continued to do so even when Rew “ate shit” after smacking into the ground and Claver got caught in 2015. 

“He was in custody [with their] private security. They let him go, though. They’d have to have a lot of resources to [really] arrest someone like that,” Rew explained. In the meantime, they continued writing songs together under the name “Nephilim Emporium.”

“The Nephilim concept was not only interesting to us, but also funny. As we enter this era of uncovering hidden truths and debunking history, we realized: ‘Oh, Nephilim is a possibility — something very real in human history,” Rew commented about the older moniker.  “And then, Emporium was just a word we liked. Nephilim Emporium."

In 2017, the outfit leaned more toward punk music than the indie jig sound it's known for now. During 2020, the group went on hiatus due to the distance between Rew and Claver, eventually fading out. Then, after a few years of Rew living in Washington to be closer to his family, he moved back to Texas and reconnected with Claver. The pair deleted its Nephilim Emporium EP from Bandcamp and decided to start fresh, creating “Mulch Cult.”

The band’s first album as Mulch Cult came out in 2021 with Collective Sessions vol. 1. Self-described as “Lo-fi World music,” it had a completely different backdrop than the recent sounds of Gulch! or Bulch!. For one, primal drums introduce the album (“Mt. Bonnell Melody”), followed by lo-fi sitar plucks (“Cave of Gold”). Soft vocals don’t appear until “Druid’s Ballad” and remain in the background for the rest of the project. Nevertheless, the band’s ability to sow mesmerizing soundscapes by combining varying instruments with analog sounds shows through on the under-represented gem. Tracks like “Flutes and Drums on the Limestone Terrace” play with sound collage in a dynamic yet grounded approach.

The eventual evolution to “surfabilly jigpunk,” as Jackson Kaufman from the Denver kebab rock group Shwarma put it, came organically as the band developed more interest in it after its previous project. Rew had some experience performing in bands with outlaw and Western influences, and the music came naturally to him. When trying to figure out what Mulch Cult would look like, Claver went along with his skill and grew to enjoy playing mulchy music, with hints of the band’s world background. 

Remnants of Collective Sessions vol 1. run through tracks like “However When it Was,” a spoken-word tale from Claver, featuring Rew’s tentative Kalimba notes. “Druid's Folly / Quaff!”’s drum patterns ring with hints of the band’s earlier work, but take a humorous direction. 

The deceptive track builds momentum, telling the tale of a wise druid, only to switch direction toward the chorus: “The druid / The one who knows everything! / He fucked! / He let the light in / The druid fucked!” Told like an epic, the song wrestles in impressive rock n’ roll solos, drum breakdowns, and whispering rat-like vocals — all in different sections of its 4-minute, 56-second runtime. 

“Fright Train” also takes a humorous direction in its lyrics and vocal delivery. Claver sings from the perspective of a potential critter or mulch eater consuming practically inedible delicacies. “Oooh watch me / Ooh judge me / Ooh remember me,” he taunts. He happily screams, “Fuck the gruel!,” opting to eat worms from the ground instead. The surprising lyrics play out over catchy instrumentals, adding to the track’s unconventional flair.

Raw and Claver consider humor a primary part of their music, and they try to ingrain a bit of jest into their jams. 

“We'll take the [homogenous songwriting] formula and play with it. We’re like, ‘So, what do people not do with [music]?’" Rew reiterated, emphasizing the band’s jamming and experimental approach. 

Claver humorously continued the train of thought: "We like making good music and then messing it up with bad lyrics.”

Image courtesy of Bandcamp

In contrast, the group’s most recent EP, Bulch!, balances soft indie rock (“Soil & Tin”) with classic twangy outlaw sounds (“Texas Twister”). The three-song release from Mulch Cult reflects the jesting faces of its band, beautifully accenting each member’s sonic ability. 

The pair prides themselves on making weird music and living in the moment. At its core, both band members seek the most enjoyable way to create enjoyable sounds rather than “tweaking” about details like they may have done in the early days. They thrive on antics and breathe good spirit, which helps them transcend genre. The lack of labeling, as well as the lack of care for how others define “Mulch Cult,” opens the door for future projects. Lack of creative restriction, in many ways, makes Mulch Cult a quintessential band that doesn’t preordain its future. 

Since beginning to perform across Austin, the band has been split between different members. Suzoynkavitch has remained a consistent addition, providing technical precision and backing vocals to the preexisting band. Other additions to the lineup have been in and out. Recently, the band welcomed a new baritone guitar player, Dunk Juncus.

“Adding a baritone guitar is interesting, especially for our tunes because it adds more of a bass, and it just allows the intended riffs to be heard on the guitar,” Claver explained. In the future, the band would welcome more instrumentation from various sources, and they’re seeking opportunities to experiment. 

However, the group has goals, dreams, and aspirations that will live up to its latter cult moniker. For one, they’d love to play the jam band circuit and rock out festivals across the nation. The duo emphasized their willingness to travel around and perform at hotspots, but for now, they’re considering options for state runs. Previously, Mulch Cult performed with Colorado band Shwarma for a Colorado circuit and had their own Texas run. Rew emphasized the importance of staying rooted as a local Austin band wherever they go, whether that be nationally or internationally. 

Another goal lies on television screens. The band’s desire to make an outlaw soundtrack or surf score for a cartoon remains high on a list of dreams and potential goals. Their ideal project plays after hours on Adult Swim, with good humor to match its animation. One potential avenue is “Smiling Friends”,” a show currently on the network known for its absurdism. 

The only barrier to achieving these goals is financial constraints for studio time. As Claver explained, the band’s reach can only go so far with additional recordings or releases. In order to experience the band in full, listeners should see them live. 

“It's important to get as many people to know that this is happening as possible. And recording [in the studio] hasn't been the most fruitful way to do that,” he cemented. 

Mulch Cult will release a new single on March 21 and an album on April 4. In preparation for this new material, the band will perform across Austin.  

Mulch Cult's unique approach to creating music appeals to people who crave something different. As Claver explained, “You either get it or you don’t.” Indoctrination into the pine needle and grass clippings-following doesn’t necessarily require a certain affinity; instead, it appeals to live performance addicts who struggle to go a week without a good show. 

In the words of Frank Zappa, “The only difference between a cult and a religion is the amount of real estate they own.” In that sense, Mulch Cult seems headed for its own religious evangelization for the outsiders and worm eaters.