Did you ever have a dream to start a band with your best friends? To bring all your musical talents together and create something exclusively yours? I attempted a few times in elementary and middle school, but the shared passion usually flickered away when we thought about actually performing in front of other people.
But some of us are more determined than others. Des Moines indie rock band Rutabaga is one. Frontwoman Mia Prosperi (she/her), pianist Taylor Raibikis (they/them), drummer Izzy Marx (she/her) and bassist Max Green (he/him) met at Girls Rock! Des Moines, where they were all camp instructors.
“I joined Girls Rock! as an instructor in 2023,” Raibikis said. “I used to teach middle school … and I ran the GSA [Gay Straight Alliance]. I took my kids to the governor's conference and when I was there, I met Allegro Hernandez, who got me connected with Girls Rock!. Through there, I met Mia first, then Izzy and then Max.”
As individual musicians they drifted toward each other, finding companionship and solace as a group. And, given how they came together as camp instructors, it's fitting that their band name came from one of their campers, who had a stuffed rabbit named Rutabaga — “The most precious thing ever!” Prosperi, lead vocalist and guitarist, said.
To me, their sound is the epitome of indie rock, with elements of Sidney Gish, Frankie Cosmos and Momma materializing when I hear them. Buzzy guitars and sparkly drums press against Prosperi’s silky voice, which slides easily between notes — just like many other dreamy femme indie singers.
There's a vibe about Rutabaga that's almost childlike, but in the way people in their early 20s are childlike. That early adulthood whimsy is what pulls me in and gives me living nostalgia for my currently happening decade of life. Rutabaga makes me feel like I’m walking across my college campus after a harsh winter, the sun awakening frozen flowerbeds and elms.
Musical upbringings
Prosperi is well established in the Des Moines music scene, having started out playing music publicly at just 11 years old. It wasn’t long after that before she had a band assembled around her, in the form of the group Plumero. But with time, and a growing gap in gigs, she found herself on the hunt for another group.
“There was just a really obvious solution that was right in front of me,” Prosperi said. “Music is always more magical [when it’s] shared with people. I’ve always loved music, but [there’re] newfound joys for music, playing with this group.
Each member has an extensive lifelong history with music, whether it be through classical training or self-taught practice.
“When I was in first or second grade, my mom was like, ‘Hey, your grandma’s going to pay for instrument lessons. What do you want to do?’ and so I said, ‘I want to take piano lessons,’” Raibikis said.
“I started playing music when I was five … with classical violin,” Marx said. “I didn’t have the best teacher and I didn’t really like the way the lessons were structured. It was a very particular teaching style that didn’t work well for me. Then, years later, my uncle (actually a drummer and producer) talked to my mom and said, ‘Izzy should try playing drums. She’s got that rhythm.’”
“[Green’s] dad is a punk rock drummer,’” Marx added, piping up for ill-stricken Green. “Max was always around music when he was a kid, but he didn’t pick up bass until high school. He’s self-taught.”
From the outside looking in, Iowa can be seen as an Americana/bluegrass heavy state. Many famous Iowa musicians of those genres found their footing in the state. But at the same time it’s never been a static scene that curates just one kind of music. Iowa is just like everywhere else: Every genre has a place here, whether you can see it or not. That includes indie music.
“There’s something really cool about the indie scene in Des Moines. You’re not going to have one band that sounds that close to another, which I think sometimes [when] I’ve been to some bigger cities,” Prosperi said.
Queerness and identity
Personal identity is just as important as musical identity when it comes to Rutabaga. As an outwardly queer band, each member has found community easily in Des Moines.
“I feel like there’s a surprisingly good queer music scene across Iowa,” Raibikis noted. “At least in Des Moines — like Allegro Hernandez, we’re really good friends with them. We’re friends with sarah tonin, members of the theys and the thems. There’re a lot of really good bands that not only are we close with but are also really big about queer representation in Iowa and in Des Moines.”
“We’re all very proud of our identities, and we want to share that with the world,” Prosperi added. “Inherently, I say our songs have queer stories. When we’re sharing our songs with people, then we’re sharing a perspective that maybe not everyone has been able to hear yet or surround themselves with yet.”
After spending a summer chatting with queer punk bands in Iowa City, I’ve come to see Iowa as a place more complex than I initially gave it credit for. There’re tons of progressive spots around the state, but some spots can be seen as a little less welcoming for queer folks.
“I think, especially just the Iowa of it all, there’s definitely [times] when we’re performing songs and I’m like, I don’t know if this crowd is going to be super excited about this,” Prosperi shared. “We love Iowa, but there’s definitely still some progress to be made. I think just being someone that gets those songs out there, even if the crowd’s not going to enjoy us. This is our story — we’re here to share this, and this is us.”
The next big thing for Rutabaga is getting a stuffed rabbit mascot. Oh, and playing Ingersoll LIVE! on the Studio One Stage on Aug. 29 alongside 28 Days Later and Younger. It's their first time playing a Studio One stage, but I have a feeling it won't be their last.
