It's always a bit of a cliche in writing to start with a description of the weather, but the foggy, dull cloud looming over Cambridge, UK, seems significant and ominous as we make our way to a seemingly desolate building to interview the unsigned avant-rap-punk-grime-synth-whatever duo Younglings. Usually this city is pleasant and relatively bright, but all of this niceness is absorbed into a huge mass of grey as the rain starts to pour down heavily. Dirty snow is piled up against the paths, still not quite yet melted and people walk with their heads down and hoods up, looking for some sort of shelter.

Once we enter the building where we are meant to be conducting the interview, we see the two members of the band; the quiet; the cold MC Quentin Woolf and the slightly more chatty, if obviously high out of his mind drummer and sampler Remy Moreau. Graffiti and cigarette stubs grace the room, with clothes crumpled up atop beds and chairs. The scattered remnants of what appears to be a Big Mac are strewn across the floor.

The pleasantries are put aside and we finally come on to the interview. It is immediately made apparent that Moreau will be doing a majority of the talking as the enigmatic Woolf sits back on his chair and chain smokes, occasionally eyeing our crew up suspiciously. When he is talking, he speaks with an almost unsettling calm and quiet voice, which contrasts greatly with his music and lyrics. At the heart of things, we find out that Younglings are an extremely ambitious duo who really do want to take over the world, be it metaphorically or literally. They're nihilistic and cold, but understandably so, seeing as they've been thrown aside by civilised society. This is true music that comes from the deepest, darkest corners of the soul.



Pitchfork: I think the first question that we would like to ask is an obvious one... when are we going to see a release from you guys? You've earned a hell of a live reputation and I think many people are waiting for an EP or an album to drop.

Moreau: It all depends really on what happens in the coming months... so far we've got material for, like, 10 albums. Of course, a majority of it is shit, but there are some real gems. If you don't see an EP soon, that's because we're making a whole album. But, you know, patience. It will come.

Pitchfork: Good to hear. Another obvious question would be what influences your music? It's unusually dark and ambiguous for a hip-hop group. There aren't many audible elements of other bands.

Moreau: We try to make our music as unique and true as possible. I think if we incorporated elements of other artists, aside from sampling of course, that would be almost muddying our sound down a little. Our music is very raw and harsh, quite dissonant at times, even. Like, I think me and Quentin share a mutual admiration of people like Karlheinz Stockhausen and Michael Gira... as far as lyrics and stuff go... I don't really know, you'll have to ask Quentin about that.

Woolf: I don't take much notice of any music scene or any musicians. Of course there are influences... but I try to steer away from anything inherently human. Humans are weak, and this is not weak sound.

Moreau: Yeah.

Pitchfork: Right. And I guess these quite dismissive feelings are extended towards the hip-hop scene at the moment?

Moreau: Oh, definitely, yeah. I can't really think of any hip-hop musicians at the moment who excite me and tantalise me. There are certainly none who influence the music of Younglings. In all honesty, I think hip-hop's becoming quite a dirty word, and I certainly am becoming quite embarrassed when people refer to us as hip-hop. I mean, obviously we are hip-hop, but there's such a... I don't really know how to describe it, like a dogma almost of what hip-hop has to be. Hip-hop is almost always based in reality, something that we try to get away from. And if not, it's braggadocio, something that me and Quentin both despise with a passion. That doesn't mean we don't hold hope. I think our main goal as artists is to try and start a musical revolution.

Woolf: We're going to drag the hip-hop scene, kicking and screaming, back onto its feet again. The whole genre's imploded into something that it shouldn't have and we're here to correct it.

Pitchfork: So how did you guys end up here, in this desolate building?

Moreau: Quite simple really. We rejected society and society reciprocated. There's no one here at the moment, so we thought we'd crash a while. You wouldn't have thought I was training for a Masters in Law, would you? But honestly, and I genuinely mean this, I would do it all again.



Pitchfork: Your live performances have been extremely popular and you guys are creating a massive cult fan base at the moment. Are you not worried that you might accidentally "implode" like all the others from this increasing popularity?

Woolf: No. We won't. We're better than that.

Moreau: I think the problem all the other bands had is that they let themselves be susceptible to outsiders trying to barge into their music. And I'm not just talking about influence, I'm talking about fans and such trying to restrict their creativity by limiting them to a certain sound or, if not that, trying to follow the pattern of one particular song which happened to make them rich. I don't think record labels are evil or bad or anything at all, which might surprise you... as long as they allow complete creativity and artistic freedom, they can be fine. They can be good, in fact.

Woolf: Our minds are impenetrable fortresses.

Pitchfork: Where do you see yourselves in ten years?

Moreau: Dead at the bottom of a ditch somewhere. [Laughs] In all seriousness? I don't know and I don't want to know. I imagine we'll be in the same position as we are now, getting fucked up and making fucked up music. I don't know though. We'll see.

Woolf: In ten years... we'll have cracked something by then, I just don't know what yet.