OMFG It’s Mendoza!
The Danish pop icon known as Mendoza seems to be a walking contradiction. With a style that is equal parts punk, pop, goth and emo, the self-described “retro-futuristic” songwriter and reluctant underground pop star has seemingly struck a chord with her street-sexy vocals that often contrast with the dark and hard-edged nature of her lyrics.
Having originally made her mark in the Copenhagen underground as one of the faces behind the blog and DJ duo known as SlumblogMillionær, the stars seemed to align when Mendoza tried her hand at songwriting early last year. Out poured the beginnings of “Love Druggie,” the electrifying tune that would soon catapult her and her burgeoning OMG It’s Music imprint into the spotlight and have major labels like Universal Music lining up for more.
Having since continued to knock out a series of alt-pop dance hits that continue to take the internet and her native Denmark by storm, Mendoza has also found herself at the center of a new wave of dancefloors as S-Man (aka Roger Sanchez) and Steve Lawler recently took on her original “Houdini” and transformed it into a pair of proper house burners for Love & Other that have been knocking the shoes off the dancefloor all summer long.
“When I was 14, I wanted to create a girl squad for events and be a Suicide Girl-version of the movie Party Monster.”
With her voice setting the Euro festivals and radio stations ablaze at the same time jackin’ house dancefloors across the world are calling out for more, we sit down with Mendoza to reflect on the long and wild journey it’s been from her days as a self-described “fantasy, role-playing geek listening to Marilyn Manson and the Cure,” who shaved off her eyebrows, had nine piercings on her face, and “dressed up like a Hobbit with fake pointy ears.”
You’ve been described alternately as an “enigmatic singer,” “Danish dark-pop songstress” or my favorite, “this generation’s next dystopian pop star.” How do you describe yourself and the style/vibe of music you represent?
Actually, I really try not to describe it. In general, I hate describing music; I find it really difficult. Before I created music, I was genre-deaf. I had no idea what was what, or how to recognize time or references in the songs I heard. It’s interesting hearing others describing me and my music, but in general I try not to define everything all the time and just let things… be.
On a recent blog post, you wrote, “I was raised and influenced by television and most of all: the internet.” How do you see this as influencing your work as an artist?
I didn’t learn much in school, and I dropped out in middle school, so the only way I could learn was from TV and internet. TV wasn’t telling me the truth or giving me info on the things I needed to know about, so the internet naturally became my source of knowledge. I’m bad at spelling, so I look every doubtful word up, and that’s how I learned to spell. I wanted be skilled at Photoshop and video editing, so I watched tutorials until I was able to do what I needed, and so on. Almost everything I know is self-taught with help from the internet.
“We were mostly interested in the people living a life outside the system…people doing what made them happy and doing it with style.”
I was already a DIY kid before I had access to internet; the internet just made it easier. My dad always messed around with computer hardware and fixed people’s computers, so I feel like I’m a born geek with nerdiness running in my veins. I think it’s an attitude. I want to succeed at my hobbies and things I’m interested in, so if it had been the ‘70s or ‘80s, I would have done it through books or just by trying different things. I actually see myself fitting right into the ‘80s, as it’s where all the music I like is.
This seems to relate to the way you saw yourself as “a fantasy, role-playing geek listening to Marilyn Manson and the Cure” growing up.
I’ve moved away from being a super-geek playing fantasy games, but I’ve definitely used it as my inspiration in everything. I think it’s the reason I have a great imagination. I cry almost all the time, which might sound horrible but is actually pretty great, to feel how things are meant to be felt on a deeper level.
So, imagine me being too young, too sensitive and being the only punk (probably emo) in a Christian school. Finding Marilyn Manson, to me, was like finding the Bible (laughs). It led me to find all kinds of music I hadn’t heard before, like the Cure and System of a Down. I don’t just like music; I LOVED music. I still fall in love with songs like nothing else, and the way I feel when I find artists I am passionate about is a feeling and a high I can’t get any other way.
I want to be a similar type of artist that gives others confidence to do whatever they want to do with their life. If it’s dragging up in the suburbs wearing black makeup because you ain’t a natural girl/boy, letting your hair grow however it wants to grow, tattooing your face or whatever—then hopefully speaking openly about everything I’ve experienced or talking about my perspectives on things without a filter will do that.
How did you go from being a sci-fi geek to ending up as part of the “slum” underground of Copenhagen?
In my teen years, as I discovered Marilyn Manson and began to express myself in a similar way, I met people who had similar interests just by looking the way I did. That’s the beauty of wearing how you feel on your sleeves. I knew from a young age that there was an underground community out there and that there wasn’t only the mainstream way that all the other kids from my school knew. I’d been searching and trying out different cultures since I was young. I’m an extremely curious person. When I was 14, I wanted to create a girl squad for events and be a Suicide Girl-version of the movie Party Monster.
You seem to have been very ambitious even at a young age.
I’m proud of myself for digging myself out of a rathole. I came from nothing. I’ve always had food, but my clothes were made by my granny or my brothers or were just my mother’s old clothes. I didn’t look cool, but I’ve always felt pretty cool because I got to live life and experience things that not many kids get to. Normal things—like vacations to Spain, friends visiting, having my own room and bed—weren’t a part of my life, but knowing that I was different made me get out the house and try to do something about it.
“It’s like when you’re young and a virgin and you want the first time to be perfect and if you’re lucky it’ll exceed all expectations because you have no clue what to expect... It was like that.”
It seems like things really came together with your SlumblogMillionær project, which seemed to be born out of this desire to document and provide a voice for the “slum people” of Copenhagen.
I met a girl through some friends, and we had a very special connection. We decided to create something out of that chemistry and passion, so we decided to make Slumblog. I was already taking pictures at that time, so we teamed up and wanted to show a neglected culture and the outcasts of our society. Denmark is a very small country, and Copenhagen is the “big” city—which is almost laughably tiny—so the subcultures in Denmark are just one big, blurry underground party. Rock ‘n’ rollers, ravers, punks and whatever, go to all the same venues.
But we were mostly interested in the people living a life outside the system and making it work for them—being happy with little, making their own money, their own ways—people doing what made them happy and doing it with style. But Danish fashion was really boring, and we needed something more surreal, so we started looking at people and underground cultures from all over the world, though Instagram and other blogs. We were really into finding surreal and unexplainable pictures that would make people fantasize and try to understand things other than themselves.
At what point did you start to grow out of SlumblogMillionær?
I grew out of Slumblog when I stopped identifying with a trend you could buy in any high-street store. People want to define things and make it something they already know, so they feel safe and smart, and soon we undesirably became some sort of fashion police. We posted inspirational pictures of people with unique styles, but of course, it stopped being unique when it began to spread and everybody started looking the same. It was fun being invited places and being wanted, but it’s hard work being wannabe icons. We found better things to do with our lives, so we gave the site to a younger generation who could use it as a jumpstart, like we had.
It wasn’t too long until Mendoza was born, and you had your first hit right out of the gate. Is it true that “Love Druggie” was the first song you’d ever made?
Yes, and I think that’s the magical thing about it. I wrote it in one night, tearing up with a damaged heart. It was very relevant to me at that time, and it had many layers of my feelings. It’s not just about one specific person, and it’s not about one specific feeling; it’s a pattern, and it had built up to strong emotions that needed release.
I wrote it on my out-of-tune guitar that I can’t play. I played two tones on two strings and made one big messy song. I had no structure or understanding about how to build a song. I recorded it on my MP3 player and then played it to my current producer, Niels Kirk, who was one of the Slumblog managers back then. He took me to his band’s rehearsal place, which was this huge oval room with amazing acoustics. We spent hours trying to find out where what parts should go, and when we found a structure we liked, he took 15–20 minutes with his headphones on laying down the basic structure of the song on his computer.
“It’s the same mentality…fuck with peoples’ heads so they are forced to reassess their assumptions about people with ‘that’ type of look or who listen to ‘that’ type of music.”
I was playing drums like a four-year-old in the back of the hall while he did it. Then he called me over, and we recorded my vocals on the built-in computer mic. The first take had such a raw and strong vibe that we kept it that way until we had to change it, because we didn’t have a second verse recorded and we could never get the same sound. The whole thing was very memorable. It’s like when you’re young and a virgin and you want the first time to be perfect, and if you’re lucky it’ll exceed all expectations because you have no clue what to expect… It was like that.
The song was a huge hit, and you went from being the local “blogger girl” to being touted as the next big Danish pop star. Was that a difficult transition to make?
I had been so many things before (photographer, blogger, stylist, etc.) that I probably looked like a cliché lost girl trying to find her “thing” at that point. But I needed to create, and I needed to get all sorts of feelings out. I needed platforms. I’m a creator; I need to do it, or else it feels like I’m going to explode. If there’s pen and paper lying in front of me, I’m going to draw. The thing about music is, music is my everything. I’m not just talking about my own, but the music I’ve listened to through the years is the reason I could deal with shit.
When I was a kid and I wanted to sleep before everybody else or take a nap, I couldn’t because I was surrounded by my family all the time. I was sleeping in the living room with three people sitting there watching TV. The only way I was able to sleep was because I had my headphones on, so I couldn’t hear anything but music. There hasn’t been a time in my life where I didn’t imagine myself standing on a stage and singing my soul out before I went to sleep. That was my therapy and my hope.
“My fate looked like I was going to be found dead some place at a young age but instead I found everything that someone could ever wish for.”
So, when people knew me as a local blogger girl, they had already known me as the party girl, or whatever I was doing, with my business all up in people’s faces. Throughout all that, one thing was for sure: I was never going to show them what I truly wanted, because what if there was no talent or hope for me? So, I kept those dreams to myself. I didn’t sing in front of people—not even my friends. Nobody knew anything about my true wish. So I think it hit them hard because there was no clue, and I actually think that’s why people had my back. All of a sudden, it all made sense. I had been a kid of the night since I had my first beer when I was 12, and suddenly it all made sense.
It’s impressive that your style has remained intact throughout it all. Especially on “Houdini,” there seems to be a contrast with your “look” and the piano-driven hip-house-pop vibes of the tune. If you turn the sound off and just watch the video, it could easily be a hard and dark techno/industrial piece! Is that a tension you like to exploit? Does it still catch people by surprise when they meet you for the first time after having only heard your voice?
(Laughs) Spot-on. Yes to everything. People do get really surprised and sometimes are bummed out! But that’s part of it. It’s the same mentality I had with Slumblog: mix some contradicting things together to create something new or surreal, and fuck with people’s heads so they are forced to reassess their assumptions about people with “that” type of look or who listen to “that” type of music. I just have this urge to make people understand that there’s no such thing as stereotypes.
So many of the themes in your music (addiction, depression, love, abuse, etc.) show that you are unafraid to face the darker side of human nature, and yet you do so with often deceptively upbeat music. Is that part of the same contradictory impulse?
My lyrics were written either when I was in a depressing place, or they were written in retrospect. I have a lot of battles with my history haunting me, but that’s just how it is. You live life to the fullest, you try shit, you get into shit. You mess up, and it messes with you. Then you get out on the other side, but the shit is still there, and there’s a lot of shit to remind you of that all the time. So I’ll always be a little depressed, and it might sound weird, but I’ve actually kind of accepted that.
But I’m also full of love and good times. I feel very loved by my friends, and I feel very lucky that I got out on the other side and made that childhood dream come true. That’s everything. I get all spiritual, religious and philosophical about it. I get all kinds of weird thoughts about it—like how I fantasized about what’s happening now. My fate looked like I was going to be found dead someplace at a young age, but instead I found everything that someone could ever wish for. It’s hard to put it into words and explain it, but it’s just the way things happened. Step by step, all the transitions led up to this moment, and everything made sense—contradictions and all.
“Houdini” is getting a bit of a second wind as these remixes from Steve Lawler and Roger Sanchez are going down hard, even getting lots of love from Annie Mac in the UK. How does it feel to hear your vocals and the song taking on a life of its own and beginning to create new meaning on different dancefloors around the world?
The original song was only released in Denmark and is being released as remixes in UK. I think it’s perfect. To be honest, I love “Houdini,” but it is one of those songs I am still ambivalent about on a personal level, as it was misleading. I made it a long time before it came out, and I feel as if I should have put something more relevant out—something that I felt at that time was more “me.”
But then the remixes come along, and it’s brilliant because the song gets a new life and it kind of doesn’t have anything to do with me. It’s fun and furthering something I made. I actually don’t have emotions connected to the remixes the same way as I do when it’s fully my own, but I feel supported and I feel like it’s a bright start, and that calms me.
Is there a fear of getting “too pop” as you continue to blow up?
Yes, that is my biggest fear and conflict. It hurts my heart thinking about compromises that will change what to me is my art and parts of me that I’m giving away. But I’m also realistic and focused on my mission, so if I need to make small and almost unnoticeable changes, then I can live with that for the sake of the bigger picture.
But my biggest fear, and what keeps me on my toes, is the fear of having to do something against my values. I never want to become meaningless or a parody or a copy of myself. I’m constantly evolving. I’m a new person every day, and I might change my mind about things; but I don’t want to be a brand I can’t personally relate to, and I don’t want to forget why I’m doing all of it.
Where do you go from here?
A fully completed, coherent album is what separates the little girls from the women, so I’ve been thinking a lot about what possible scenarios there are for me in the future, and it all comes down to one thing: Failure is not an option on that front. I see myself evolving into a musician that knows my stuff, and I want to be a great producer so I can create things that are from only my emotions and thoughts. The only way I can get there is to be smarter and more focused.
To me, life is about making yourself better all the time—trying to change the bad things, and becoming what you want to be, and how you want to see yourself. I don’t get it when people complain about things that make them unhappy and then do absolutely nothing about it.
I can’t plan things. I take it step-by-step, go with the flow, and try to redirect when some things come at me. Expectations and trying to prepare fucks me up. I’m always unprepared for everything; I’m just really good at improvising.
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