Mary In The Junkyard are a vital part of the next wave of guitar brilliance from South London.

Words: Ali Shutler.
Photos: Patrick Gunning.

"This band feels like the real deal," says Mary In The Junkyard's Saya Barbaglia, her voice dripping in sarcasm. She's been friends with vocalist Clari Freeman-Taylor since the pair met as teenagers at a youth orchestra (playing viola and flute, respectively), while drummer David Addison met Clari in a previous project. "This feels more like we've accidentally formed a band of weird children," adds Clari.

"We're not clean-cut professionals. We're pretty grubby," she continues. Despite their broken instrument cases and a tendency to act like hyperactive kids whenever a camera is pointed their way, Mary In The Junkyard are the next great guitar band to come from the South London scene. Previous alumni include Shame, The Last Dinner Party and Black Midi.

Mary In The Junkyard played their first show last summer and have racked up over 50 gigs this year alone in London, including a stint as The Windmill's unofficial in-house support band. Away from the comfort of that venue, there have been busy, buzzy appearances at The Great Escape, Green Man and End Of The Road, with debut single 'Tuesday' finally being shared in October.

The "angry, weepy chaos rock" trio released 'Tuesday' first because, well, "It's huge," explains Saya. And it really is. Flickering between ominous, ethereal folk and chunky, hypnotic rock, it's escapist, confrontational, and utterly bewitching. "We wanted to make it fun to play," explains Clari of the switching genres. "Ever since we wrote it, we've been playing it last at the gigs," says Saya. "It always feels like a huge moment. It's a big release." It also leaves the door wide open for whatever comes next.

"I wrote it thinking about the city sky at night," continues Clari, reflecting on her move from the countryside of Hertfordshire to London. 'I wanted the song to float within that industrial environment.'

"Whenever I write music, I'm definitely chasing a feeling," she says. "I'm always trying to seek out something that really hits me in the stomach." Alone, it takes her a long time to fine-tune that excitement, but it comes quicker when Mary In the Junkyard are together. "Then it's about searching for what energises us."

Earning a reputation for killer live shows without releasing any music might sound like a carefully curated plan to trade mystery for hype, but Mary In The Junkyard's delayed introduction to the world was really down to them not having any money to record. "Beyond that song, we don't have anything else ready to share with people," admits Clari, but they'll hopefully be spending the rest of 2023 rectifying that. "Luckily 'Tuesday' is a meaty enough song to keep people going," says David. They're eager to record an album but have such a backlog of demos that an EP will probably come first, acting as a permanent snapshot of those early gigs.

"Playing so many shows has allowed us to really gain confidence in our music," says David, with Clari describing a typical Mary In The Junkyard gig as "sick" before admitting the occasional one does go wrong. "We just get lost in our own little world," David continues. Channelling whatever emotion they're feeling in that moment through the songs is "therapeutic," according to Saya.

There is a part of Clari that misses the era of Mary In The Junkyard when they hadn't released any music and were still protected by mystery. "It feels very different now, but it's nice to have something to show people without them having to come all the way to a gig," she explains. "Before, our world was just that South London scene, but now, our world could be the whole world," she adds. Their ambitions vary from support tours and festivals to playing with orchestras. "We just want to take every opportunity we can," says Saya.

Often, Mary In The Junkyard seems more concerned with having a good time than worrying about their career. Onstage, they're sometimes joined by a paper mache head and at a recent performance at Mirrors Festival in Hackney over the Halloween weekend, Saya wore a cow costume while Clari, dressed up like a sheep, introduced the band as Mary In The Farmyard. No one laughed but the band. "I'd never want to watch someone play onstage that didn't look like they were enjoying it," shrugs Clari. "Everything that's happened so far has just been loads of fun," adds Saya. Later on tonight, they're celebrating signing to AMF with a pizza and bowling party. "It's an eight-year-old's dream," grins Clari.

There's still a lot of hard work that goes into Mary In The Junkyard, though, with the trio having to fit all the touring, practising and plans for new music around uni and day jobs. "If it wasn't fun, though, we wouldn't be doing it." Seeing the reaction from fans has also spurred them on. "It does feel like we're building this live culture," says Saya. "It's becoming this exchange of giving and getting."

"It would be great if watching us play live or listening to our music made people feel free," Clari continues. "By doing this band, I hope people feel a bit more understood. It's okay to feel lost or confused," she says. "It's okay to be a flawed, strange human."

"The music is definitely wonky and weirdly shaped at times," adds David. "Hopefully, people can embrace it being a messy, beautiful thing, though."

Taken from the December 2023 / January 2024 issue of Dork.