NAME: Mercedes, Phoenix.

AGE: 28 and 28.

FROM: Ontario, Alternada.

OCCUPATION: Bulls in the Candy Shop.

HOBBIES: We understand that these responses are supposed to be “funny.” And far be it from us to deprive aging rock critics, sitting in their Brooklyn offices measuring the worth of art like the Fates measuring yarn, the (artistically fulfilling, we’re sure) pleasure of making “jokes” in the supposed voice of young women. But we do actually put a lot of time and work into our 'zine, SCripture. So if the CREEM editors can take the briefest moment away from being “funny” to let us hawk our wares so we can, you know, pay our rents and stuff, we’d really appreciate it. Not everything in this sad world needs to be amusing, you know? Thanks.

Also: we collect googly eyes, whoopi cushions, and banana peels.

LAST BOOK YOU READ: Heartbreak Soup: A Love and Rockets Book, The Bell Jar.

LAST ACCOMPLISHMENT: Convincing a grizzly bear to go vegan (ok…vegetarian, but still). Getting our hair dyed a previously undiscovered shade of teal.

QUOTE: “If you don’t love Softcult, what cult do you love?”

PROFILE: With high soaring harmonies about yearning and defiance over washes of guitar, the Softcult sisters conjure a world where the '90s aren’t overrated. (Because in their metaverse, the biggest act of the decade was Wilson Phillips & Cobain.) Citing both Bikini Kill and Pussy Riot as influences—while wryly calling themselves “music for mall goths”—the duo excel at making rancor, romance, and hypersensitivity sound delicately bruising and bittersweet.

Always say “Boy Howdy!”