Interview by Brian Howe
Photography by Aubrey Edwards

Voxtrot’s two EPs, Raised by Wolves and Mothers, Sisters, Daughters & Wives, have already garnered them a not-huge but significant (and wildly devoted) national fan base. The young Austin band play a sort of turbocharged twee-rock that’s equal parts whimsy and muscle, recalling at various times the Smiths, the Cure, Joy Division, and Belle & Sebastian. Bandleader Ramesh Srivastava’s smart lyrics and killer melodies are central to the band’s appeal, but a potent rhythm section and an upbeat bent extend this appeal beyond headphones and onto the dance floor. Now at work on a full-length debut for an undisclosed label and touring relentlessly, Voxtrot seem poised to be the next breakout from a geographical scene that’s already given us Spoon, I Love You but I’ve Chosen Darkness, and …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead. I’ve been writing about Voxtrot pretty much everywhere I can since I fell head-over-heels for their EPs, so an interview with the sharp and ambitious Srivastava was the next logical step. I got him on the phone on Mother’s Day to chat about his goals for Voxtrot; the influence of Glasgow’s club music on his songwriting; and the sacrifices necessary for success.

You were living in Glasgow until pretty recently, right?
I was in Glasgow for three years until June.

Did that have a big impact on you as a person and a musician?,
Yeah, I discovered all kinds of really great dance music, which affected the way I think it’s good for a band to be involved in event-based things. In Britain, there are all these events where you spend a long time trying to bring all these creative artists from all over the place, and there’s also dogma behind it: to create an environment of tolerance, or diversity. I would like for Voxtrot to be working with people who are into that, on things where, if you look back years down the line, you think, ‘I was in some small way part of this, and it had purpose, and resonance.’ I don’t want to just be another indie band that made six records.

You feel like dance music has a more populist and communal spirit than indie rock.
It’s got a much more exciting thing going because, obviously, it’s totally recreation-based. In Britain I would meet all these people who were into tons of different bands, you know, Franz Ferdinand, whatever was big at the time, but they were willing to listen to lots of different kinds of stuff, too.

Do you find less of that diverse taste in Austin?
It is changing a little bit, gradually, although sometimes people ask me if it will ever reach that point where Britain is, and I don’t think it ever will. I’m not sure why that is; maybe because the United States is so big that a publication like NME can never have the same power. NME will do articles about Underworld and Cat Power for the same readership – not that I’m a big NME proponent, just an example. But I think people in the States, especially people who are obsessed with Pitchfork, understand music as this weird collection. It’s like loving the acquisition of knowledge, or like, ‘I now know, and am publicly enthusiastic about, this many types of music.’

So you think it’s more of a collection of cultural capital?
Totally. I even catch myself in Scotland, talking to people about the band, and they say, ‘Well, that’s a very American way to think about a band.’ To them it’s for fun; we’re always thinking about the future. The same thing goes with knowing about music: The British literature is like, ‘We love this song;’ the American literature is like, ‘I know about this now.’

You said you were talking to a new label; does that mean you’re working on a full-length debut?
Yeah, we’re writing it right now. It’s pretty weird because when I used to write songs, it was a pleasant surprise, but now people are waiting for me to write songs. Even over the past year, I’ve become much more aware of having an audience. When we have a new song we take on the road, and it’s not very finished but we want to work it up and see which parts hit well with a live audience, they’re posted on the Internet in a couple days. And all these people are commenting on the new song.

You write on your blog that you once believed that a career based on passion was the key to life-fulfillment, and that the creation of art can assuage loneliness, but you’ve since rejected this theory as insufficient. Can you talk about what led to this shift in your thinking?
When we were in Canada, there was a band called We are Wolves, another wolf band. We got pretty friendly. They had this manager named Alex. So we were talking to Alex like, ‘It’s really cool that we’re here with you, and we can do this in so many cities, we have this network of friends spread out all over the place. ‘ But I’m realizing that I have less and less of a life in Austin, where I’m supposed to live. Almost no home life.

You make a lot of virtual connections that aren’t really practical, physical ones?
Yeah, and before, I had a big group of friends in Glasgow – I didn’t really do that much; I just went out a lot – but I had a lot of friends, and it was good to write songs because I had a lot of actual, personal experience. I guess I don’t have much of a personal life anymore, and we’re not even that successful or famous. After Glasgow I decided I would throw myself into this career, and I did. I really miss living in Glasgow, and I would love to be there, but made a really clear-cut choice. But it’s my passion; I love it.