Published August 26th 1998 by Cort Fritz (source)

"I AM NOT AN EXHIBITIONIST!"

Heather Grody is playfully defending herself from her accuser, co-Murmur Leisha Hailey. Leisha’s accusation stems from a recent Murmurs show at L.A.’s infamous Viper Room, during which Heather responded to relentless catcalls of "Take off your bra baby!" by doing exactly that: she unbridled herself mid-song and ejected the confining undergarment into a sea of frantically waving arms. The gesture was effortless, almost serene; Heather knows how to keep her cool. "I thought it was very flattering," she says nonchalantly of the catcalls, offering an explanation for The Brassiere Incident.

But Leisha isn’t fooled. "Heather loves that because it gives her an excuse to do it!" But why? Was the act driven by Heather’s smoldering sexuality? Was it an ironic retro-political statement? "Oh no, Heather is just an exhibitionist," Leisha contends.

Exuberance, if not outright exhibitionism, in the face of adversity could be the Murmurs’ motto. Leisha and Heather met in acting school in New York City. ("I went because I didn’t have to take any math or English or anything like that. I was like: ‘Right On!’" Leisha openly declares.) When they signed up, they perhaps expected to be living out the movie Fame, with spontaneous dance sequences in the cafeteria, challenging instruction from stern-yet-lovable professors, and romantic stagelight interludes. Instead they got what everyone at boarding school gets: hazing! Heather recalls, "It was pretty intense, I think degrading at times."

This gloomy topic leads to a moment of somber reflection, but it is quickly followed by bright smiles and more laughter. Heather continues, "When we graduated, there was a third-year company which was basically like a showcase theatre company and…we didn’t make it into that!"

"Hey, we did graduate!" Leisha defends.

"But we were rejected, so it made us very ambitious in trying to figure out what we were going to do," Heather stresses. "We became part of this theater company in Brooklyn. It was in a condemned building and we were forced to pay the rent. The whole idea was that we would all put on shows and showcase ourselves there. And really…um…they never let us be in the plays."

Heather and Leisha are now shouting above the din, attracting the direct attention of strangers sitting nearby, who have apparently been following every word of the conversation thus far. As the Murmurs’ laughter reverberates off the tiles at Little Frida’s, the small Los Angeles coffeeshop where the interview (and a simultaneous game of Connect Four) is taking place, it becomes increasingly clear that they are both, undeniably, exhibitionists of one kind or another. The gathering crowd loves them. "The older kids! The older kids never let us!" Heather and Leisha yelp. "They never let us perform," Heather says, "so we just started using it as a rehearsal space since we were paying all that rent and all. And that’s where we sort of got discovered, or at least pushed, or–um–nudged into…"

Leisha begins mocking Heather. "Nuhhhhhdged. Nuhhhhhdged?"

Heather pretends not to notice, continuing. "Some guy saw us and he said, ‘You guys should really do this. It’s great.’ Since it was just a hobby we weren’t sure, but we did."

"Some guy" was right. The Murmurs are, in fact, great. In concert they capably share command of the stage, wowing crowds with their charisma. On their records, especially their latest, Blender, their pop songs are virulently contagious. Scratch a happy melody, however, and you will find merciless social criticism. In "Sucker Upper" they merrily harmonize to such lyrics as: "Asexual, far from intellectual, fashion stealer, freewheeler/ Bats her eyes to cover up her lies/ She’s a sucker upper, starfucker/ And I’m gonna blow her cover!" Sometime the Murmurs’ critiques are focused on themselves; in "I’m A Mess," they even sing about sinking so low that they want to be dead…at least temporarily.

Leisha and Heather. Heather and Leisha. Like a pair of inseparable, mischievous twins, they don’t take anything too seriously. They are aware of the power of pathos, but refuse to acknowledge it. Will the Murmurs’ fans understand the subtext? Perhaps. Or maybe one need only look to The Brassiere Incident to figure out what’s really on the fans’ minds. "I think the fans are just horny!" Heather laughs.