Sleepless in PVD: Muggs Fogarty can’t stop, won’t stop

Muggs Fogarty has become something of a PVD essential. Right up there with trolley busses and Brown University students crossing the street in dream-like trances, the city just wouldn’t be the same without them. A musician both in Lookers and on their own as Sweetpea Pumpkin, a bona-fide published poet, a multifaceted massage therapist and an emerging fighter for our city’s cherished water supply, Muggs can be seen on stage or in the crowd just about every weekend. And you better believe Providence means as much to Muggs as the city means to them.

“I always envisioned spending my life here, living close to my dad and being a dreamy townie artist until I get old,” they told me the other day.

This hasn’t always been the case, however. For a dose of higher education, Muggs took a trip down to a little bend in the road called New York City. A waylay in salty old Boston followed. But we all must wander from time to time. It wasn’t long before Muggs found themself back in our thrumming city.

“I grew up here and don’t particularly feel like I came back, I just left for a little bit,” they told me, which resonated with this old boy, having boomeranged back home not too long ago myself.

Ever since Muggs, myself and 1,200 other assorted kiddos found ourselves in the pleated khakis and starchy shirts of La Salle Academy, it was clear enough they were destined for the spotlight. Muggs spent a good chunk of time developing their skills as a writer and performer as part of AS220’s slam community. The ferocity, eloquence and courage demonstrated onstage by Muggs and their fellow poets regularly blew the lid off the venue. For a Cranston kid used to watching “Seinfeld” reruns after dinner, the honed passion and mastery of style seen at every slam was eye-opening. Not only that, but you could whoop and holler and stomp out there in the audience. Who knew poetry could be so electrifying?

The lessons learned have imbued all of Muggs’ projects with a fiery center, often clouded in haunting, ethereal tones. As Sweetpea Pumpkin, Muggs wails and croons without a blueprint, but builds masterpieces nonetheless. In Lookers, Muggs uses their vocal range and stage prowess to tie the sometimes-groovy, sometimes-rocking music together. Their November EP Mirage treads up and down moody dark alleys and boisterous avenues of good old dread.

For some at-home poetic comforts, I couldn’t recommend Muggs’ book Sex Camel enough (see review motifri.com/sexcamel). The slim but potent volume feels like honeycombed chamber. Layers upon layers of rich and deep verse offer up stark revelations about sex, attachment and that queen of all poetic emotions: love. Pick up a copy wherever fine local books are sold.

But that’s not all — Muggs advises us to expect a lot from 2019. New music from Lookers as well as a solo show as Sweetpea Pumpkin with poet Granny Choi on April 9 are on the horizon. Plenty of what Muggs calls “gay-robotic undertones” await any who come on down.

Of course, it’s not all fun and games. Providences has its problems. Most of us can’t even live off Hope anymore. Gentrification swells and pushes working people farther from their jobs. Luxury development falls low on Muggs’ list of favorite things, especially the incoming Fane Tower.

“I really can’t stand when people move here because rent is ‘cheap’ for them, especially when they won’t participate or care about the communities they’re moving into, or what effect their own presence has on the city. They’re also the first ones to complain how there’s ‘nothing to do here.’”

Also stirring the discontentment is Jorge Elorza’s plan to privatize PVD’s water system. Similar plans have resulted in utter calamity in Flint, Michigan. For those interested in pushing back, check out Water is Life: Land and Water Sovereignty Campaign to learn more (see story at motifri.com/pvdwater).

With so much activity, is there ever time to rest? Not for Muggs. They say they’ll sleep when they’re dead.