Raven, guitarist for the Tampa rock duo, was discussing the circus, and danger, that unfolded after a right-wing publication took offense to the band’s 2022 video for “Expensive People.” In it, she and drummer Alton Plemmons are surrounded by cocaine and hundred dollar bills as the song skewers capitalism and satirizes money-driven lifestyles. The issue even made it to a Bradenton municipal meeting.
“It was obviously powdered sugar, but this lady wrote a fucking hit piece about how Hovercar is not safe for children,” Plemmons told Creative Loafing Tampa Bay.
In reality, Hovercar’s music is the kind of stuff that can define someone’s coming-of-age.
Plemmons and Raven, both parents with three kids between them, are disciples of Songs for the Deaf, the 2002 album by hard-rock hero Queens Of the Stone Age. The sound on their new album—Killing Jar, released in July—could only be produced by kids who sat on the school bus with a Discman or iPod in their lap, listening to grunge and 90s-2000s rock from bands like Trauma Ray, Nirvana, Veruca Salt, My Bloody Valentine, Garbage and Hole.
And it’s the kind of album that could save a kid’s life, too.
Killing Jar is the soundtrack for a year that saw Plemmons watch his partner almost die in emergency rooms, and the journey Raven took after coming out as a transwoman in 2022. Its seven tracks are colored in 25 minutes of trauma and sadness. A lyrics website—songsforinjectinghormones.com—lays bare Hovercar’s rage, opens the window for healing, and gives listeners a glimpse into the love that is a hallmark of a band born in Covid isolation, but meant for the whole world to hear.
On “Wooden Gun,” Hovercar exposes religion as a prop used to prey on people looking for hope. The title track is inspired, in part, by Didi Jackson’s “Moon Jar,” a collection of poetry that reflects on grief and reminds Raven of how she dealt with the loss of her father, who passed last January.
“And honestly, I grieve myself in some ways," she said. "I think we all do."
Death and transition manifest themselves in the image of a thermal butterfly, which is central to Killing Jar. The album title a reference to the process of preserving butterflies, where a captor stuns the insect to prevent it from damaging its wings before placing it in insecticide until it is relaxed—aka dead—enough to mount for display.
As a trans woman, Raven feels like her beauty is continuously marketed, sexualized, tokenized and fetishized.
“A lot of times we’re either resorted to those things only, and we just become objects. That’s just how most women in this world are viewed anyways, because the patriarchy upholds that standard for all of us,” she said, adding that she doesn’t necessarily want to be a flag or a record label’s sales pitch.
“I just want to be us. I want to be happy. I want to make music that matters to us. I want to lift people up. I want to speak truth," she added. "No matter what that looks like.”
The Bay area’s had quite a few chances to get a glimpse of what that looks like, too. After a Halloween house show and Emo Night Tampa gig late last year, Hovercar became a sought-after band. Last May the band opened for Grouplove at a sold-out Floridian Social in St. Pete.
There's no cover for Hovercar's show at Gift Shop Tattooing in Tampa on Sunday, Aug. 27.
When it celebrates a record that perfectly captures the last year, Hovercar will be surrounded by family and friends (Gift ShopTattooing founder Sean Kerwin did a majority of the work on both Plemmons and Raven) but new faces will surely be there, too.
Fans have come out of the woodwork for Hovercar—just look at the photos of the band with the audience at the Grrrl's Night Tampa gig at Crowbar in Ybor City earlier this month.
Hovercar's following is attracted to the big rock and roll sound from Plemmons' '74 vintage Ludwig Vistalite drum kit and Raven's Epiphone ES 335 Semi Hollowbody run through a trio of pedals including the Walrus Audio Red High Gain Distortion Pedal (that actually has the gain turned all the way down). They come for the genuine messaging that’s a foil to so much of the disingenuous pandering that’s crept into a lot of music that gets pushed into listeners’ ears. Fans hear Raven when she sings about being scared. They, too, know what it’s like to watch a loved one on a hospital bed. And they are also looking for a way to simply get to the next day.
Raven isn’t shy about not being a positive optimist. She doesn’t do affirmations and instead stands ready to fight and make sure Hovercar’s voice is heard at the same volume as voices in the mainstream. She said that at the aforementioned Sarasota Pride show, there may have been five people actually listening; the thought of something bad happening definitely crossed her mind. “You start thinking, ‘Damn, what am I doing?,” she added.
But after that show, a queer teen and their parent walked up to them to buy a shirt. It reminded Raven of the ‘90s and the tactility of music—how buying merch can be symbolic of believing in a band’s message. Plemmons said parents have thanked him for helping their kids who’re struggling to live in a state that basically tells them they don’t exist.
“They’ve been dealing with suicidal thoughts and what not,” he added. “But then a parent comes up and says these songs got their kid through that shit, and made them see that you can have kids, and be a somewhat successful adult.”
And yes, Raven is concerned for everyone’s safety, but she watches Plemmons’ back, and he watches hers. She calls Plemmons her brother, and is big on people finding family then clinging to it.
“Lean in to the people that you love,” she said. “And know that there is healing, and there is hope.”
