tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39587556325519202462024-02-08T14:01:34.884-05:00Rock and the Single Girljamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.comBlogger156125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-6656380774755974022015-12-30T23:42:00.000-05:002015-12-30T23:42:33.123-05:00'Obligatory' end-of-year mix post, even though I apparent forgot to post last year's mix? (Yikes!)<p>This station has been non-operational for the better part of the last two years, for a few different reasons. Practically, I was forced to really prioritize my dissertation work, as well as my paying gig as a guitar teacher, and didn't really have time to post.</p>
<p>The bigger issue though was that I didn't feel motivated to make or find time to write here, because I haven't been interested in the music, 'scene', 'community', bands, whatever, that I used to think it was so important for me to write about and document here. Or, rather, I no longer feel like that community is interested in me. I feel neither welcome in those cultural spaces or like I belong in them. I don't fit in there, and never really have; I've never had enough chill or been cool enough or available enough or able to not criticize ugly shit when I see it happen. I've never been able to just go with something if I don't think it's working or could be better - but, my critiques of these communities, how they 'do' identities, and their unspoken internal hierarchies and markets are a topic for a different post and a different time.</p>
<p>The point is, feeling like I didn't have real friends, or even kind acquaintances at shows made going to them and trying to socialize and find new music a chore.</p>
<p>So, I stopped. I stopped paying attention to the cool successful 'queer punks' I know and started to focus on work, and on the pop music my guitar students are into. I stopped going out, and I started watching tv and listening to the radio in the car, and started reading feminist pop and tv criticism, and I realized that I was happier that way.</p>
<p>And that's pretty much what this year end mix is about: it's about recognizing what isn't working in your life, figuring out how to fix it, finding things that do make you happy, and learning to believe that, as the kindest and most humane of the cool queer punk kids once told me, <i>pop will save us all</i>.</p>
<center><iframe src="http://8tracks.com/mixes/7458623/player_v3_universal" width="400" height="400" style="border: 0px none;"></iframe>
<p class="_8t_embed_p" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><a href="http://8tracks.com/rockandthesinglegirl/2015-the-year-i-learned-to-work-the-problem?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button">2015: The Year I Learned to Work the Problem</a> from <a href="http://8tracks.com/rockandthesinglegirl?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button">rockandthesinglegirl</a> on <a href="http://8tracks.com?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button">8tracks Radio</a>.</p></center>
<p><ol>
<li>"Why Don't You Love Me?" - Beyoncé</li>
<li>"Rat Race" - Brody Dalle</li>
<li>"Becky" - Be Your Own Pet</li>
<li>"4 5 Seconds" - Rihanna feat. Kanye West & Paul McCartney</li>
<li>"Get Gone" - Fiona Apple</li>
<li>"I Want More" - Viv Albertine</li>
<li>"The Crying Game" - Nicki Minaj</li>
<li>"No Cities to Love" - Sleater-Kinney</li>
<li>"Dancing in the Dark" - Downtown Boys</li>
<li>"Tiger Tank" - Speedy Ortiz</li>
<li>"Head Underwater" - Jenny Lewis</li>
<li>"CT Catholic" - Rainer Maria</li>
<li>"Cold Sweat" - Tinashe</li>
<li>"Gaining Force" - In School</li>
<li>"212' - Azealia Banks</li>
<li>"I Was Gonna Cancel" - Kylie Minogue</li>
<li>"Fight for It" - Sorrows</li>
<li>"New Sh*t" - Ester Dean</li>
<li>"Starting Over" - Slingshot Dakota</li>
<li>"It Iz What It Iz" - M.I.A.</li>
<li>"Extraordinary" - Liz Phair</li>
<li>"Now" - Paramore</li>
</ol> </p>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-80459096491998544282014-07-21T15:18:00.000-04:002014-07-21T15:18:30.814-04:00I took (and am still taking) some time to live my life: Learning to 'hold' the line (or something like that)<p><i>Note: this post probably never would have gotten finished if <a href="http://katewadkins.com">Kate Wadkins</a> hadn't asked me to read something at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/793917337306749">this event</a> she curated featuring some other incredible women music journalists. Forever grateful to her for being a thoughtful and supportive colleague.</i></p>
<br></br>
<blockquote><p><i>Shut it behind you when you walk out that door</i></p>
<p><i>Keep reminding yourself, "If you're not now, you never were"</i></p>
<p>-- <a href="http://worriers.bandcamp.com">Worriers</a>, "Never Were" (Cruel Optimist, 2013, Don Giovanni Records)</p>
</blockquote>
<p>On December 31st, 2013, I published a post on this blog that contained the following paragraph:</p>
<p><blockquote>"So, I really did plan to post here this year, I wanted to, but, I didn't, obviously. Instead of pouring a lot of time and energy that I didn't really have to spare into this blog, I took some time to live my life, to borrow some Beyoncé lyrics. (This might sound like an ironic reference, but it isn't, the more I think about it, the more I realize that that's exactly what I did this year.) I worked on personal life stuff, which meant asking myself why I do the work I do, and if I really want to be doing it."</blockquote><p>
<p>Six months later, this is still an accurate summary of how I sometimes feel about blogging. I still wonder why I write about music, specifically why I blog about my experiences with it, and if it's something I still really want to do. On a pretty regular basis, I wonder if I even have anything to say anymore.</p>
<p>Which is only weird to me because right now, I'm in graduate school, working on a dissertation on that which I allegedly have nothing to say: the so-called 'punk' community and what can loosely be described as its internal social organization and politics. I've never thought that I should drop out of school because I have nothing more to say about how punks treat each other, and how the music they produce and social behaviors and practices influence each other. I literally work on this project and write about studying music and subculture every single day.</p>
<p>So, I do have 'something to say' about it. I participate in punk subculture regularly, I go to shows, buy demos, and I listen to my friends talk about their zines and bands and visual art and I listen to their 'gossip', i.e., have private conversations, especially with my lady, genderqueer, and poc punk friends about other punks' questionable, sometimes violent, sometimes entitled, sometimes thoughtless behavior. I wake up every day and I think about these things.</p>
<p>But, I haven't wanted to talk extensively, or write about them in a very public space, and for a little while now. I've started to think that my issue isn't so much about not having anything to say as it is about not being sure that I have the energy to say it.</p>
<p>I find lately that I'm much more able to deal with getting my research and school work done than I am able to journal or blog about my thoughts and feelings on local bands and happenings, thought that hasn't always been the case. I've vented, cried, and complained on many occasions about how repressive, exploitative, and inherently classist academia is, but at the moment, I think I get more out of writing about these things for school.</p>
<p>I think that this might be, at least in part, because I have unequivocal support for my academic endeavors, not in the form of university funding (lol), but at least from my adviser and my dissertation committee, all of whom are women, all of whom have families, and all of whom have always treated me like a human being, which is more than I can say for a lot of the academics I've met over the years, and more than I can say for some punks. I get to have ideas, explore them, and write them down, for people who want to read them, and who want to push me to think them through as fully and as conscientiously as I can. I get to have some ownership and authorship over those ideas, and be proud of how I've been able work out and explain the things happening around me. I get to operate by myself, as a researcher, and I get to feel like maybe I might know something, like my experience might be valuable if I take the time to examine it and describe it.</p>
<p>Participating in punk doesn't seem to come with any of these luxuries. Or, not if the experience you want to share and ideas you want to circulate are critical of punk's notions of whiteness, masculinity, and complete and unchecked liberty to do whatever you feel like doing without any sort of consequences. Everyone I know seems to have internalized some of these values, either from punk or general U.S.-American society, and everyone I choose to spend time with seems to be working really hard to unlearn and externalize them. But there are no easy answers, and there don't seem to be advisers or elders to turn to when dealing with these issues; pretty much all of us are relatively young, uncertain, and overextended, and that's usually on top of being overworked and underpaid at day jobs.</p>
<p>The reality is that punk, which can be and has been a gratifying, liberating thing shared by a supportive community, is also a collection of relationships and networks that are alarmingly delicate, often involving people who are shockingly insensitive, if not willfully bigoted. When you go just beyond your immediate circle, you're liable to run right into a wall of violent, jeering, reactionary douchebags -- and that's when you can get beyond your own circle, without being derailed by some interpersonal debacle that somehow reveals that a person or persons super close to you are harboring destructive ideas about trans people, or people of color, or women, or queer and gender queer people, or about intersectionality, privilege, and marginalization, and what those words actually mean.</p>
<p>Having conversations about what those words actually mean, and things like hierarchy, identity politics, assault, and boundaries, is exhausting, and having them over and over again, which is what seems to happen in wider punk and underground diy culture, doesn't really do anything but deplete you. Burnout is a real thing, and it's not so much the creative, cultural, and generally sacrificial labor that you contribute to your community that wears you down. It's the emotional labor of having to have these conversations, and manage your own emotions, especially when you're feeling unsafe or uncomfortable or scared or even just let down, that drain you.</p>
<center><iframe src="https://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/14516891230/in/photostream/player/" width="374" height="278" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen webkitallowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen oallowfullscreen msallowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<center><p>Burnout: for anyone who isn't familiar with it. <a href="http://geesissy.tumblr.com/post/92219036715">(source)</a> [Image: a white square with blue text on it that reads, "What is Burnout? Burnout is the gradual process by which a person, in response to prolonged stress and physical, mental, and emotional strain, detaches from work and other meaningful relationships. The result is lowered productivity, cynicism, confusion…a feeling of being drained and having nothing more to give."]</center></p>
<p>The cycle of emotional depletion and disillusionment is difficult to break or exit. After a certain point, it starts to feel inevitable, especially if you're a participant in punk subculture with any sort of minoritarian identity. After you become conscious of that identity and how it's affected your life, and also your experience with punk, you can't turn it off. Your sensitivity and attention to micro and not so microaggressions is always there. That might sound intense or extreme. But if this sounds foreign to you, and if you are somehow involved with punk and haven't felt the need to defend your humanity, or even a friend's identity and humanity to some other punk, then you should consider yourself very lucky.</p>
<p>If there's anything I've learned from my involvement with punk, it's that you really, <i>really</i> can't change people. You also can't really set or enforce parameters on what we call community. You can respond to a bro's rape joke or light-skinned punk's tasteless appropriation of AAVE or some jerk defending their right to mosh aggressively by saying "yeah well whatever, you're not punk. And I'm TELLING EVERYONE!" but it won't really accomplish anything, or keep them from doing it again. All you can really do is learn to avoid people who annoy or aggravate you and hope for the best.</p>
<p>All of which sounds negative, but, I've begun to understand that it isn't, or not entirely. Learning to weed out people and punks who don't understand where you're coming from, what's important to you, and what 'punk' or whatever it is that you do means to you is an important exercise in boundary setting. It frees up space in your life for you to find people who do care about the same things as you. And more than anything, it's a way to divert all the energy spent on the aforementioned cycle of emotional depletion and disillusionment back to yourself.</p>
<p>In yet another previous post, written in January of 2013, I wrote about some of these same issues, in regards to an incident in which a relatively well-known band chose to name their tour the 'Raping the East' tour, and then defended their decision with the same old tired 'freedom of speech' fallacy. The post was mostly about my own complete unwillingness to indulge any of it -- the wanton perpetuation of rape culture, the defense of those actions, the band's whiny crybaby attitude, their apparent feelings of entitlement -- but it also about how we all needed to draw a line with this type of thing. It was teaching ourselves to unapologetically draw a line with this sort of behavior, and learning to not work, under any circumstances with anyone who doesn't take assault, consent, and boundaries seriously.</p>
<p>In the months after I wrote that post I found myself having unexpected problems with my friends, the people in my local community and personal life who I'd written about in that post as being on my side. Not around issues of assault or rape culture, but around issues of listening and attention to each others emotional needs. I was surprised by how these problems in my relationships were completely about gender, race, and ability, and totally affected by the punk hierarchy that none of us seem to want to talk about. And so I started a long and on-going process of reviewing my relationships and also my relationship to punk, including how I write about it. I took some time to live my life, and I took some time to re-evaluate the people in my life, and the space they take up in my life.</p>
<p>Going though this with friends, or in some cases people who I thought were friends, hasn't been easy or particularly enjoyable, but I'm glad that I did it. I've learned a lot in this process, and probably the most important thing that I've learned is that 'the line' I was just talking about isn't between 'us' and 'them'. It's between me and you. Whether you're someone I just met, one of my oldest friends, or someone in a band I really like. (Or, really hate.) It's not selfishness or callousness, it's how it has to be, and how it is. Because I can't contribute or work with other people in my community unless my personal boundaries, and health and sanity, are properly maintained. None of us can accomplish anything unless we learn to take care of ourselves properly.</p>
<p>At this point in the process, I'm finally starting to become more comfortable with this. I'm starting to feel comfortable talking about it, and I'm starting to learn how many people feel similarly, and who my true friends and allies are. I'm starting to feel like there might even be some kind of audience for this kind of perspective and writing on 'punk'. Talking with those allies and friends, and the finally getting to have the conversations I've been wanting to have, make me feel like it might be useful to document and share these discussions, and like my efforts aren't totally wasted. There are still times when I wonder what I'm even doing, and worry about the future, and think that maybe I should just give up. But after all of this time and hard work and processing, I finally feel like I have some kind of community that I actually belong to, and friends who I trust and want to be accountable to. And even on days where I think I don't have anything to say, that community and that feeling of belonging seem like they're worth writing, and even blogging, for.</p>
jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-80197681929832160382014-02-02T18:40:00.000-05:002014-02-02T18:49:38.307-05:00What qualifies a good year is changing: 2013, and beyond<p>I realize that over a month into 2014 is a bit late to be posting a 2013 mix, and for awhile, I figured that this would just be the one year that I didn't make or post a year-end mix. But then I thought, "Who <i>cares</i> if it's 'late'?" I make these year-end mixes mostly for myself, as a sort of sonic representation of my attempts to process and make sense of what I experienced over the course of the year. And processing is just one of those things that takes as long as it takes.</p>
<p>I'll admit that I put off 'processing' 2013. It wasn't the worst year I've had, but it wasn't easy either. It was busy, and it was packed with relationships, events, conflicts, dialogues, and the occasional resolution, when I was lucky. Looking back through all of that was a little daunting, at first.</p>
<p>I wasn't able to avoid it for long though. I'd argue that the end of the calendar year is the one time when we all do at least some processing, even if to varying extents. Or at least, it's the one time of year that we're all really encouraged to look at our lives and our choices, and try to make changes -- i.e., the whole thing of making resolutions. Most of my friends are super-processors already; my oldest and best friend, Zoey, is a social worker by profession, a Cancer by birth, and a sort of but not really secret hippie. She actually likes hearing about her friends' feelings, and is very good at dissecting, scrutinizing, and unequivocally validating every single feeling you express to her. It was not a surprise to me when our first conversation of 2014 started with me saying "Happy new year!" to her, and her responding with,"You too! But, how do you feel about that?"</p>
<p>I was in my kitchen at the time, putting away some dried dishes. I closed the cabinet door and said, "I feel like I'm glad the holidays and 2013 are over, even though 2013 was the year I learned to how to tell toxic people to get the fuck out." After half an hour of 'processing', it became clear to me that all of the conflict I dealt with in 2013 wasn't my 'fault', and wasn't drama that I had caused for the sake of it; it was the result of me finally learning how to call people on their negative behavior, and walk away from them if they refused to deal with it, apologize, or at least talk it out.</p>
<p>Or, as another friend put it in a pithy and much needed text, "2013: The Year Shit Got Real". So, that's what this mix is about. It's about realizing that you don't have the support you need, getting sad, trying to talk about it, getting discouraged, getting angry, and then realizing that hey, at least you're working on it, you're making the effort, and that if you keep working at it, you're going to figure it out, eventually. That probably doesn't sound like a 'good' year, but as anyone who's been through it will tell you, it's better than feeling helpless, alone, or stuck with people who don't really care about you.</p>
<p><center><iframe src="http://8tracks.com/mixes/879803/player_v3_universal" width="512" height="288" style="border: 0px none;"></iframe>
<p class="_8t_embed_p" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><a href="">2013: 'The Year Ish Got Real'</a> from <a href="">rockandthesinglegirl</a> on <a href="http://8tracks.com">8tracks Radio</a>.</p></center></p>
<p><b>New Year's Week:</b> Team Dresch - "Fagetarian and Dyke"</p>
<p><b>January:</b> <a href="http://hystericsoly.blogspot.com/">Hysterics</a> - "No!"</p>
<p><b>February:</b> Excuse 17 - "I'd Rather Eat Glass"</p>
<p><b>March:</b> Q and Not U - "A Line in the Sand"</p>
<p><b>April:</b> That Dog - "Every Time I Try"</p>
<p><b>May:</b> Say Anything - "The Futile"</p>
<p><b>June:</b> Sleater-Kinney - "02"</p>
<p><b>July:</b> <a href="http://swearinnyc.tumblr.com/">Swearin</a> - "Just"</p>
<p><b>August:</b> Rainer Maria - "Save My Skin"</p>
<p><b>September:</b> <a href="http://slingshotdakota.tumblr.com/">Slingshot Dakota</a> - "Never Hear"</p>
<p><b>October:</b> <a href="http://punchcrew.tumblr.com/">Punch</a> - "Time Apart"</p>
<p><b>November:</b> Paramore - "For a Pessimist I'm Pretty Optimistic"</p>
<p><b>December:</b> <a href="https://ayenako.org/">Aye Nako</a> - "In Dog Years"</p>
<p><b>December/January/beyond:</b> Pretty Girls Make Graves - "Pyrite Pedestal"</p>
jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-7954899572653547682013-12-31T15:18:00.000-05:002014-01-01T03:53:39.094-05:00At least I'll never have to wonder what it's like to sleep a year (…or two?) away: Music-related things that kept me going in 2013<p>So, I really did plan to post here this year, I wanted to, but, I didn't, obviously. Instead of pouring a lot of time and energy that I didn't really have to spare into this blog, I took some time to live my life, to borrow some Beyoncé lyrics. (This might sound like an ironic reference, but it isn't, the more I think about it, the more I realize that that's exactly what I did this year.) I worked on personal life stuff, which meant asking myself why I do the work I do, and if I really want to be doing it.</p>
<p>I thought long and hard about this project, and whether or not I should just abandon it. I'm back here, updating right now, because I eventually came to the conclusion that this is something that I need to be doing, and that I shouldn't put it off, not even for a few days or until next week. And yes, this is partly because I've found that 'putting stuff off' isn't a good strategy for life and don't want to do that anymore. But if I'm being completely honest, I'm posting now in great part because, well, I really detest year end best-of lists and wanted to take the opportunity to rage about them.</p>
<p>It's not like I'm the first person to feel this way or even blog about it, but, if you think about it, the year-end best-of lists that most (white dude-run) mainstream music publications make such a fuss over don't make sense. There is no such thing as 'best' in music or any art form, because our tastes and what we enjoy are subjective.</p>
<p>Music journalist bros, of whatever gender, especially those who write about 'indie' music made by white kids, make money and social capital off of pretending that there is some objective standard of what is good and bad. They conveniently position themselves as the objective arbiters of what is good and bad, all the way at the top of the hierarchy. And then they make their lists of all their white, usually dude-dominated fave bands, and the social capital stays up near the top of the hierarchy, and whiteness and masculinity (not to mention heteronormativity, cis-normativity, and body-normativity) are reinforced yet again.</p>
<p>Fuck hierarchy though, and fuck cis-het-white-middle class dude normativity. Fuck objectivity, which is nothing more than the strategic, clandestine privileging of this cis-het-white-middle class dude subjectivity, no matter how hard bros (of whatever gender) try to tell you differently. (Ugh, I feel like I had to listen to so much of that mess this year, good grief.) Fuck the way 'objectivity' is used to dismiss and discredit so many of us, if not all of us who are not bro dudes.</p>
<p>If I wanted to, I could make a 'best of' list. I know a lot about popular music, how it's produced and distributed, and what's happening at the moment in a few genres and 'scenes' or whatever. If I wanted to I could pretend that I know what's 'good' and what's 'bad', and I could use this blog to tell you what to listen to. But I've never wanted to do that; that's not how I choose to use my power or social capital.</p>
<p>Instead, like my musician/writer/artist friends<a href="http://themodernistwitch.tumblr.com/post/68803259189/here-is-the-bonkers-mix-of-stuff-i-like-to-listen">Jes Skolnik</a>, <a href="http://blog.katewadkins.com/2013/12/10-favorite-moments-in-year-of-bad-luck.html">Kate Wadkins</a>, and <a href="http://brujacore.tumblr.com/post/71670678355/best-of-2003-in-music-videos">Suzy Exposito</a>, I'd rather talk about the music that I enjoyed this year, the shows, events and moments that got me through the hardest parts of 2013, and the occasional thing that wasn't quite from this year, and is perhaps even 10 years old, but still resonates with me. Because that's the point of music and all art forms: having feelings about it, and communicating with each other about it. Talking about what we like, without any kind of shame or self-consciousness or anxiety about not being 'cool' enough is how we make friends, and how we make community.</p>
<p>The following is a list of music, bands, performances and some other stuff that I fell in love with, that I cried to and at, that I talked about with my friends. So, enjoy! -- because that's what all this is for, damnit.</p>
<p>1. <a href="http://www.topshelfrecords.com/artists/slingshot-dakota">Slingshot Dakota's</a> <a href="http://www.topshelfrecords.com/discography/055">Dark Hearts</a> LP</p>
<p>Okay, so technically <i>Dark Hearts</i> came out in November of 2012, but due to shipping delays, I didn't get my copy of it and listen to it in full until well into the following December. I spent the second half of 2012 having all kinds of 'I relate to this too hard!' feelings about their song <a href="http://youtu.be/hGdB_vuEX9g">"Light"</a> after seeing them perform it at <a href="http://clitfestnb.tumblr.com/"> C.L.I.T. Fest in New Brunswick, NJ</a> back in July of 2012, and I'm still ridiculously happy that it made the LP. Record opener "Intro/May Day" is what I listened to and sang on days when I didn't want to get out of bed or go outside this year though, especially during what felt like an endless winter:</p>
<p><center><iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/LeEta4Tsuyo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center></p>
<p>2. Beyoncé and the Sugar Mamas' Super Bowl Halftime Show Performance</p>
<p>I have a vivid memory of being on an Amtrak train headed toward New York back in February, on my way home from a long, tiring, and frankly expensive day trip to Albany to meet with professors and use the library. The idea of going back exhausted and overwhelmed to an empty house made me feel like crying, but instead of crying, I used the train's wifi to watch a video of Beyoncé and the Sugar Mamas half-time show performance. It was exactly what I needed. In that moment, I stopped being a casual Beyoncé fan and began to really appreciate her influence and messaging, an informal project that I would end up working on all year.</p>
<p>3. <a href="http://smashitdead.net">Smash it Dead</a></p>
<p>A potent mixture of life anxiety, vehicle anxiety, and total New Yorker antipathy toward the city of Boston almost kept me from going to this annual fest and benefit for the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center, but I will forever be so, thankful l that I was able to be there, and that my desire to see Condenada was stronger than my many negative feelings, see the full set (and also me, standing on the side, quietly having many emotions about all of it):</p>
<p><center><iframe src="//player.vimeo.com/video/63570065?color=f0000c" width="500" height="281" frameborder="0" webkitallowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen allowfullscreen></iframe> <p><a href="http://vimeo.com/63570065">Condenada (Full Set)</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/hate5six">hate5six</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p></center></p>
<p>Condenada's was only one of many powerful sets that night and weekend; that Saturday night alone I got to see my friends and faves in Shady Hawkins (http://vimeo.com/63569959), In School (http://vimeo.com/63570063O and Curmudgeon (http://vimeo.com/63570067) play and talk and sing about resisting the violence, harassment, and other manifestations of rape culture and white supremacy that women, girls, and QTPOC face every day. Whenever I think back on that night, I remember feeling completely present, safe, and grateful to the organizers for all the work that they put into this event every year. The fest raised close to $6,000 dollars for the BARCC, and I'm proud that I was there and that I contributed.</p>
<p>The organizers are currently working on Smash it Dead 2014. I'm not sure if I'll be able to go, but either way, I'm already pumped for it.</p>
<p>4. 'Formal punk brunch'/all and any meals and events that include lady and genderqueer punk 'gossip' and/or 'shit talk'</p>
<p>Okay so 'formal punk brunch' is not exactly a real thing (it's more like an affectionate joke one of my friends made recently when I told him that I went to Champs with a certain powerhouse frontwoman and distro owner from Boston while they were in town). 'Gossip' and 'shit talk' amongst lady and genderqueer and gender non-conforming participants in punk and diy subcultures are a very real thing, though, except that it's not 'just' gossip or shit talk. It, in actuality, is how we communicate to each other when bands, other punks, venues, and other things are dangerous or unwelcoming to folks who aren't cis-dudes or who aren't white. If someone does or says something that's oppressive or fucked up and we talk about it, we're not 'gossiping' -- what we're doing is warning each other. We're figuring out strategies to work around people who aren't trustworthy (because these unsafe people frequently have some kind of crucial power in our scenes, ugh), and we're also figuring out ways to work through our feelings and maybe even laugh at these problems so that they don't isolate or demoralize us. We talk about it so that we can keep participating and making space in a subculture for ourselves, because that subculture doesn't always want to make that space for us.</p>
<p>5. <a href="http://www.paramore.net">Paramore's</a> <a href="http://www.paramore.net/album/paramore">Paramore LP</a></p>
<p>Paramore's self-titled record is unquestionably one about moving forward, about using 'the future' to motivate you to work and live in the present. It's a record about recovery and learning how to start over, and so it has a lot in common thematically with the aforementioed Slingshot Dakota record. It's a record about facing unhappiness, accepting and working with change, and how hard but rewarding it is to learn to have hope. And that's also almost certainly why I continue to have absolutely no regrets about having listened to it more times than I can count since it came out in April. See and hear all of these themes in the video for their first single:</p>
<p><center><iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/G133kjKy91U" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center></p>
<p>6. <a href="https://ayenako.org/">Aye Nako's</a> <a href="https://soundcloud.com/ayenako/sets/unleash-yourself">Unleash Yourself</a> LP</p>
<p>I'm not sure where to start with Aye Nako. The truth is that I know these people, I volunteer and occasionally socialize with them, and see them play as often as possible. I know something about them as people, as opposed to only knowing them as musicians, and I care about them, so I'd probably be really proud of everything they've done even if I wasn't so into this record. But as it happens, <i>Unleash Yourself</i> is an incredible, incredibly subtle document of QTPOC punk experiences and subjectivities, and also proof that deliciously bummer, relatably ambivalent songs about feelings, identities, and relationships are not and have never been just for sad dudes with flannel shirts and jazzmasters. Hear and see for yourself below, where I've posted what is somehow one of the very few videos of the band I could find. My theory is that folks are either hoarding the videos they've taken, or that they're not taking videos because they're too busy making out or swooning (you know, both activities that make holding a camera steady difficult) during the band's sets (which, whatever, I personally feel like that is totally a valid response to have to them):</p>
<p><center><iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/dDeIGEq933Q" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center></p>
<p>7. Limp Wrist</p>
<p>While we were working on a Bikini Kill cover set for The 3rd Annual Anti-Valentine's Day Riot Grrrl Cover Band Show back in 2011, some friends told me about Limp Wrist. Coincidentally there was a Limp Wrist cover set that year, right before our set, which involved 1/2 of Aye Nako (yes, they all dressed in short shorts and underwear like the real Limp Wrist does, and yes, you do wish that you could have seen this or that there was a video if you weren't there and it's totally okay). After the cover set, I was enamored with the idea of a gay hardcore band, so I did some research, asked some questions, sent some emails to my professors, and before I knew what was happening, I was cleared to write about Limp Wrist and/or frontman Martín Sorrondeguy's previous band, Los Crudos, for my dissertation. Which means that my investment in both bands is both really personal and seriously professional, which is weird but not bad. Seeing them at Union Pool in June, and watching as my 'punk' life and academic work collided was surreal, but it was also one of the most ridiculously amazing nights I've ever had. Here's a video of that set:</p>
<p><center><iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/3s6bDHCEyOw" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center></p>
<p>8.<a href="http://whorepaintpvd.tumblr.com">Whore Paint's</a> <a href="http://whorepaint.bandcamp.com/album/swallow-my-bones">Swallow My Bones</a> LP</p>
<p>My brief but ardent love affair with Whore Paint and their music started in early 2012, when guitarist Hilary sent me an email asking me I'd like to write up their Menarchy 7", I listened to their bandcamp mostly because their bio mentioned their affiliation with Girls Rock! Rhode Island. I wasn't really blogging at the time, so I wrote a review-slash-love letter for Tom Tom Magazine, and then waited patiently for their full length. It took a year and a half but it was more than worth the wait. Whore Paint repurposes early metal sounds into loud, often ugly, wrathful, "pre-post-feminist" noise about what it really feels like to know that you live in a society that doesn't allow you to own your own body. It's awe-inspiring. Watch the first video from the record below:</p>
<p><center><iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/i_UF1iKLbyM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center></p>
<p>9. <a href="http://www.deeppockets.us/">Deep Pockets'</a> <a href="http://ironpier.net/">You Feel Shame</a> LP</p>
<p>I've said more than once that Deep Pockets are the only all-white guy band I'll ever shill for or give my money, which doesn't sound all that complimentary but I swear that I mean it with nothing but real affection. They're another band that I sort of know somewhat personally, they're friends/former housemates of friends, they're great people who I would be proud of even if their first record didn't do much for me (but, uh, as it turned out it made me cry while I was on a bus to Philadelphia once, but I'll talk about that some other time, maybe with a therapist instead of on this blog). You Feel Shame made me cry because it is the typically heavy-yet-agile Long Island post-pop-punk-'emo'-I don't have words for it-core that I've been dreaming about since my days as a youngster in Queens who listened to a lot of Brand New and Taking Back Sunday but didn't realize how close Levittown actually was, in every sense. This is a record about feeling old and crotchety in a subculture that frowns upon 'growing up', anxiety about the future, anxiety about your nostalgic longing for when you weren't so worried about things, and using your sarcastic wit to cover up and also express your many feelings, and it's surprisingly beautiful. You can watch the video of them below from a show of theirs at Mr. Beery's, a place that probably won't mean anything to you unless you've gone to shows in Nassau County. Sorry about that!</p>
<p><center><iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/-fpyI2qSYzE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center></p>
<p>10. <i><a href="http://abc.go.com/shows/nashville">Nashville</a></i></p>
<p>I know that it's not a 'hip' opinion to have or whatever, but, I kind of like tv. Most of it is awful, and often outwardly regressive and pretty boring. But when done right, narrative television shows can be an effective medium for studying and revealing human behavior. Does Nashville qualify as tv done right? I'm not sure, I'm not a tv critic or media scholar, and I also don't know that much about the country music industry, but it delivers what I really wanted from it: complex, sometimes unlikable women characters who are both human beings with personal lives and working musicians with careers and professional responsibilities. The show might be more soap than 'prestige drama', but it frequently addresses music industry sexism, and the various ways in which the women characters respond to it, and often in ways I find extremely satisfying. Also extremely satisfying: the ridiculous, hilarious, and heartwarming <a href="https://twitter.com/rcknthesnglgrl/status/403363934024921088">twitter exchanges my babely friend Dominique and I always seem to have about the show.</a></p>
<p>11. <a href="http://chumped.bandcamp.com/">Chumped's</a> <a href="http://anchorlessrecords.bigcartel.com/product/alr-024-chumped-st-cdep-12-color-vinyl">self-titled 12" EP</a></p>
<p>I saw Chumped open for the aforementioned Deep Pockets back in May, at a show where I didn't expect to see anyone onstage who wasn't a dude. And yeah, maybe front woman Anika and her Bikini Kill tshirt were initially what got my attention. But their fuzzy, noisy messy, catchy, tightly-constructed songs (as well as their live covers of No Doubt and Ke$ha) are what kept it. Their self-titled debut is short, but its songs about old friends, personal failures, bad decisions, city life exhaustion and excitement, and long-term relationships are possibly the most fun thing I've heard all year, and whenever I listen to it I don't feel quite so bad about not having any idea what to do with my life. Watch them play my personal favorite "Something About Lemons" with a kicky "Die Young" intro below:</p>
<p><center><iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/eP9tVu0ZnnY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center></p>
<p>12. M.I.A.</p>
<p>Just as Gotham deserved better villains, the world deserves better, or maybe more complex pop stars. M.I.A. is one such pop star, who's both a musician and media artist, an entirely transnational, fully digitized, epically postmodern figure and product of our rapidly globalizing world. M.I.A. doesn't shrink from these forces, she faces them head on, making music and the occasional violent video about the divide between the 'first' and 'third' worlds, and movement and connection between the two. She also regularly antagonizes Western mainstream media outlets, who probably do think of her as their own personal Heath Ledger-style Joker, and seem frantic to discredit her and her origin story about her family's flight from Sri Lanka and relocation to Great Britain. This year alone her record label has tried to suppress a documentary she's trying to make and her record, which was finally released in November, after she threatened to leak it. I remember streaming it last month late at night, after a long, emotionally taxing day, listen to the first song I listened to from it below:</p>
<p><center><iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/K1Bdw4HJ7Z0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center></p>
<p>13. <i>Beyoncé</i></p>
<p>Speaking of more complex pop stars: where does one even begin with Beyoncé's self-titled 5th album, and the recent mass hysteria over it? I'm not here for blind Queen Bey worship, there are nuanced critiques of her work and career written by black women critics all over the internet for nerds like me that are more than worth googling. But I can't help but inspired by her as a creative and professional force, despite not being familiar with most of her catalog.</p>
<p>I remember the night the record came out because I was up late, unable to sleep at 2:30 am, unable to stop fretting over an ailing, possibly unsalvageable friendship, unable to just make myself go up to bed after an entire day of feeling that way. The seemingly unanimous freak out over the record, and the apparent consensus that it was a major artistic achievement, somehow snapped me out of it. Suddenly, there was a worthy distraction from my personal issues, something to motivate me to go to sleep, so I could get up the next morning and investigate further, something to motivate me to finally get stuff done. I remember reading about the album and its 13 videos and thinking to myself: dude, if Beyoncé can record all those songs and make all those videos and keep it a secret, you can do the dishes and put out the recycling. And I did, I stayed up until 5:30 that morning doing stuff around the house that I'd been putting off. Beyoncé made me feel like I might, at some point, get my shit together, if I work hard enough, and I'll only stop listening to this album when it stops making me feel that way. Watch the video for "Yoncé" below, which I have watched many times but am still not anywhere near being over it:</p>
<p><center><iframe src="//player.vimeo.com/video/82541445" width="500" height="281" frameborder="0" webkitallowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen allowfullscreen></iframe> <p><a href="http://vimeo.com/82541445">Beyonce 'Yonce'</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/weareforever">Forever</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a></center></p>
<p>HONORABLE MENTIONS: This list is kind of long, but it is by no means comprehensive. This year was weird, but it was filled with a lot of good things, good times, and good shows, and good records that I didn't even get a chance to download, much less listen to. I know so many people who are doing such amazing work, and have so many friends and acquaintances who are making fantastic zines and records, and I'm excited for all of them. Here's to keeping better track of these developments, and maybe even blogging about them regularly in 2014. See you next year!</p>
jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-8789584403661096372013-01-17T17:39:00.000-05:002013-01-17T17:40:16.294-05:00A line in the sand.<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">CONTENT NOTE: Sexual assault and rape culture<br /><br />So I really wanted my first blog post of this new year to be hopeful and uplifting and positive about the possibilities for 2013, right? I wanted to write a sort of statement of purpose, about my 'goals' or whatever. About what I, what <i>we</i> can accomplish this year if we can learn to truly respect each other and work together. I wanted to talk about what we can <i>build</i>.<br /><br />But instead I'm starting this year by talking about how some douchebags think it's cool to use the word 'rape' in the name of their upcoming tour. I'm starting this year by talking about how a dudebro 'punk' band is willfully perpetuating rape culture, and refusing to take responsibility for the implications of their actions.<br /></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/8389835101/" title="Lineinthesandimg03 by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img alt="Lineinthesandimg03" height="439" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8325/8389835101_4b9ec86832.jpg" width="500" /></a></span></center>
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[Image: a screenshot of the band in question's blog.<span style="font-size: small;">]</span> Directly from this band's blog, a post on the tour dates, along with a video to promote it.</center>
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For anyone who hasn't heard about this, here's what happened: as shown in the screencaps posted above, a 'punk' band featuring members of another prominent 'punk' band has named their tour the "Raping the East Tour 2013". For some reason, they were surprised that not everyone was okay with this name -- I guess they didn't consider that some of us actually have been raped or assaulted, that some of us have been assaulted at shows or by dudes who claim to be 'punk', or that some of us are more than capable of telling them that we're not comfortable with dudes using the word 'rape' so casually? Whatever, the point is, there was some push back. Some people have publicly criticized this band, and <a href="http://chicago-diy.tumblr.com/post/40076102041/church-whip-has-been-taken-off-the-chicago-show-i">some bookers have canceled some of the band's shows after learning about the tour's name</a>.<br />
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So of course, now this band is complaining that <i>they're</i> being persecuted, that they're being 'attacked' when all they've done is exercise their right to free speech, and how the original meaning of the word 'rape' isn't about forcing someone to have sex, so they haven't done anything wrong. They literally said this in the statement they posted to their blog, which is of course called "No Apologies, No Compromise" -- it literally says, in all-caps, "We have done nothing wrong." <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/8390876158/" title="Alineinthesand04 by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img alt="Alineinthesand04" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8056/8390876158_43949e0392.jpg" width="480" /></a></center>
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[Image: another screenshot from the band in question's blog, of their response to the criticism of their tour's name.] <i>Another screen shot directly from the band's blog. If you look at the bottom, you can see where they say they haven't done anything wrong.</i></center>
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I chose to write my first blog post of the year about this incident, but it doesn't really feel like a 'choice' when rape culture is literally inescapable. It's not so much that I chose to write about this as I decided that I couldn't <i>not</i> address it. Because I wanted and needed to do something that felt like me drawing a line with this bullshit. This post isn't just about this one particular incident, or one stupid band that apparently doesn't have anything real or worthwhile to say, or about being let down by 'punk'. This post is me setting a <i>boundary</i>. <br />
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This post is me stating clearly and directly that <i>I will not, under any circumstances, support rape culture, sexual assault, or its minimization.</i> This is me stating clearly and directly that I will not work with anyone who thinks it's okay to minimize rape culture or sexual violence. <br />
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If you think it's okay to minimize rape culture -- or even if you just feel like you're 'on the fence' about it, or like you 'can't judge' or can't stop people from doing things like naming their tour 'raping the east' -- then I won't support you or your work, and I don't want to be friends with you, either. There is no 'fence', there is no gray area. You either understand that both sexual assault and making jokes about it are always wrong, no matter what, or you don't. If you don't understand that perpetrating and allowing sexual assault and that perpetuating rape culture are damaging to both people and communities, I don't want anything to do with you. <br />
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Because seriously? If you don't understand that rape culture and sexual assault are wrong, I can't trust you. I won't trust you to not hurt me, and I won't trust you to stick up for me if, god forbid, someone else hurts me or tries to. I won't trust you to stick up for or believe or support my friends if anything happens to any of them. And I don't have room in my life or in my community for people I can't trust. Trust is crucial. As <a href="http://maximumrocknroll.com/">MAXIMUMROCKNROLL</a> columnist Jes explains in the latest installment of <a href="http://themodernistwitch.tumblr.com/post/40053286670/anatomy-of-the-worlds-most-frustrating-conversation">Modernist Witch</a> (which everyone should read in its entirety ASAP), "…the strength of [the punk] community rests on the strength of our relationships. As I wrote in my last column, we need to be able to trust one another for any DIY scene to work."<br />
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We need for our communities -- punk or otherwise -- to be safe. To make and keep them safe, or as safe as possible, we all need to be clear about what that means. We need to all agree to give no quarter to anyone who can't or won't consider our safety, not only from sexual assault but from all forms of violence, coercion, and oppression. <br />
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No quarter for unsafe individuals means more than not supporting, booking, or working with people who won't prioritize personal and community safety. No quarter means not getting sucked into discussions of whether or not we're allowed to set such boundaries. We need to stop having what Jes rightfully calls The World's Most Frustrating Conversation. We -- not we as in punks or women or survivors, but we as in all of us who are truly invested in creating both art and communities -- need to cease all engagement with all 'devil's advocates', 'fence sitters', and collaborators. <br />
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We need to curb whatever tendencies we have to dialogue, and we need to stop allowing other people to debate our boundaries. That's not why we came to 'punk'. The people who I trust, my artist, activist, feminist friends and allies who are in bands and collectives -- we didn't come here to negotiate, or to ask people to treat us like human beings. <br />
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We came here, and we are here, to do something constructive. We're here to do something positive, something fulfilling, something that makes use of both our prodigious technical skills and our combined sense of social responsibility. We're here to build something, to contribute something, something way beyond a line in the sand. So either work with us, and stand on our side, or GTFO. <br />
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<i>*Special thanks to the modernist witch herself, Jes Skolnik, and to everyone else who has spoken about this, and also to my dearest RSL, for her peer/less reviewing skills. Couldn't have done this without all of you.</i>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-26898893137110053822012-12-31T16:04:00.000-05:002012-12-31T16:04:39.624-05:002012: a strange odyssey <div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I may as well just start by admitting that I am, like, beyond <i>mortified</i> at the way I've neglected this blog for the last six months. I've been saying "yeah I gotta post part two of that Little Lungs/grief piece, I'll do that this week" since, like, August. In my defense though, there's been a lot going on. Between my officially being back in school and having a mountain of reading to do, doing more zining and zine events, a trying holiday season fraught with family drama, a hurricane, and a predicted apocalypse that I <i>knew</i> wasn't going to happen after seven years in Latin American Studies but that I worried about <i>anyway</i>, it's been kind of hectic.<br /><br /><center>
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/8330364625/" title="2012+We+Were+Warned by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img alt="2012+We+Were+Warned" height="349" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8215/8330364625_d7266a166e.jpg" width="400" /></a></center>
<br /><br />It's been a weird year in general. Despite my best efforts to continuously move forward, despite trying to do at least some things consistently, so much about this year has felt transitional. I spent a lot of it deciding to end certain things, either unequivocally and permanently or on a temporary basis to be defined at some later date. And then I spent a lot of time not jumping into new projects or relationships, and thinking through what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go next. <br /><br />Which fits in with what I learned about 2012 and the end of the Mayan calendar at school. One of my favorite professors described it in one of our core courses, explaining the three wheels of the calendar and the way they were meant to click together, and the concept of the 'long count'. He told us that the calendar did indeed 'end' in December of 2012, but that it also started over again. He told us to think of it not as the end of the physical world, but as the end of a certain way of thinking, a fundamental or even radical "change in consciousness". That sounds sort of esoteric, I know; it's not easy to explain. But I know that my consciousness, and my awareness of both myself and of how intricately and complexly everything and everyone is linked, has certainly deepened, and changed how I think. And I'm pretty sure I'm not the only person who feels this way.<br /><br />Even if it's just me though: what better way to mark one's increased understanding of the universe than by making a mix? Making playlists as a way of reflecting what's happened over the year is something I like to do anyway, and there's been a lot to consider this time around. It's been a bizarre, busy, educational, and seemingly endlessly character-building twelve months. It's been a year of wrestling with anxiety about the future, learning how to deal with that anxiety, and learning how to remove the people and things that exacerbate or manipulate that anxiety from my life. It has been a year of quiet, controlled destruction, and also very real, literal, uncontrollable destruction, all of which in retrospect, I feel I should have expected. After all: the Mayans totally saw it coming, and they're usually right.<br /><br />It hasn't just been about destruction though. It's also been a year of preparation, of making space, for a lot of rebuilding in 2013. It's been the end of the world as we, or at least I, know it, and unbelievably enough, I feel fine. <br /><br />So, with that: see you all next year. I swear! <br /><br /><center>
<iframe height="400" src="http://8tracks.com/mixes/797873/player_v3_universal" style="border: 0px none;" width="400"></iframe> <div class="_8t_embed_p" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;">
<a href="http://8tracks.com/rockandthesinglegirl/2012-we-were-so-warned">2012: we were SO warned</a> from <a href="http://8tracks.com/rockandthesinglegirl">rockandthesinglegirl</a> on <a href="http://8tracks.com/">8tracks Radio</a>.</div>
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[Image: embedded 8tracks playlist titled "2012: we were SO warned". In the image a Mayan temple with the numbers '2012' floating over it sits under a dark, starry sky.]</center>
<br /><br />1. January: "Sure Shot" by Yellowcard<br />2. February: "I'm Melting!" by Rainer Maria<br />3. March: "Why Bother" by Weezer<br />4. April: "Estranged" by Little Lungs<br />5. May: "100%" by Sonic Youth<br />6. June: "180 by Summer" by Taking Back Sunday<br />7. July: "Bad Friends Forever" by Carnal Knowledge<br />8. August: "Epic Failure" by <a href="http://teenwolves.bandcamp.com/">Teen Wolves</a><br />9. September: "Arm Candy" by <a href="http://hystericsoly.blogspot.com/">Hysterics</a><br />10. October: "Head of the Baptist" by Cursed<br />11. November: "War eternal" by <a href="http://notnormaltapes.bandcamp.com/album/nnt-012-condenada-discografia">Condenada</a><br />12. December: "Turn it Off" by <a href="http://www.oursound.net/outlook/">Outlook</a><br /></span></div>
jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-64298433702298932342012-07-20T14:36:00.009-04:002012-07-20T14:50:39.241-04:00"But you and I are buoyant", part I: Loss, Grief, Prince, and Little Lungs<div style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;"><i style="font-family: arial;">This wasn't easy to write, and I'm pretty sure I was only able to do it because of Kathleen and all of her hard work on <a href="http://theworstcompzine.blogspot.com/">The Worst</a> and Rachel and how she understands this "all too well". Kate Wadkins' acknowledgement of all the nerdy things I've said and written about Little Lungs already helped, too.</i><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">When I last updated this blog two months ago (?!) I posted a "Spring Cleaning/Spring Breakdown" mix, and said that I was going to be cleaning over Memorial Day Weekend -- which is what I've been focused on for the past 8 weeks. (Though I have been doing some other stuff -- more to come on that at a later date.) And in that post I explained that I haven't just been cleaning, but that I've been "sorting through and discarding the possessions of my deceased loved ones." If I have any 'long-time readers' (which seems rather unlikely at this point), they might remember a post, from two years ago by now, about a death in my family. The cleaning and sorting that I am doing right now are directly related to that death.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">This is where the preamble comes to an abrupt end: in July of 2010, my stepfather died. He'd been the most reliably supportive person in my life for many years at that point, and he was also the last of my close, or 'nuclear' family. So his death changed me, and it changed my life as I knew it. He left me our house, where I'd more or less grown up, and I moved back here, permanently, instead of going back upstate to where my graduate program is based. Adjusting to and dealing with all of this has dominated my life since then. All of my projects and pursuits have become sort of secondary, because, well, I've been focused on survival.</span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Why did it take me two years to write that here? And why would I bother to do so now? At first there didn't seem to be a reason to write about his death here. It didn't seem relevant, as it didn't have anything to do with gender or diy community politics. I also didn't particularly want to write about it -- the loss was (and at times still is) so huge and so painful that I couldn't articulate how horrible it felt, and what he meant to me, and I didn't want to try. So I tried to keep writing here, and also tried to keep going to school, and tried really hard to just feel and be </span><i style="font-family: arial;">normal</i><span style="font-family:arial;">.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">But as I went through the grieving process, it only got harder to act 'normal'. After a certain point I couldn't really read, and I couldn't write, and I didn't want to listen to music and I didn't want to go to shows, I didn't want to leave my house at all. I didn't want to be around people. I felt frustrated, and isolated, and frankly disappointed in a lot of the people around me, including the self-proclaimed 'progressive' artists, punks, and activists around me, because they just didn't get it. I felt old and exhausted and just really annoyed by punk subculture's seeming aversion to addressing real life, life-changing grown-up shit like death and grief and funeral homes and attorneys and estate taxes.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">So I decided to try to write about it, about all of it. It was a struggle at first because I still wasn't quite ready to tell the entirety of the internets that my life had fallen apart, or that I felt like I'd actually lost my mind as a result. I started slowly, by writing about anxiety, depression, and feeling incapable of writing, even though it felt weird and meta and self-referential. I slowly started to go to shows and collect demos and write about my friends' bands again.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">That was a little over a year ago. It took me that long to get to this point, to this post, to being able to type here 'my stepfather died' with the intention of actually publishing it. But at this point I'm just glad to be here at all. If there's anything I've learned from the grieving process, it's that it takes as long as it takes.</span><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><center style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;">******<br /><br /></span></center><div style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I spent the summer that my stepdad died in a weird, not quite intentional denial, in a bizarre suspended state. I remember it being unbearably humid that July, and describing the weather to someone as 'apocalyptic'. I did my best to accept things, and went on with what passed for my life -- lazing around the house during the day, going to shows and the occasional party at night -- because there wasn't much else I could do.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I didn't eat or sleep much, and I didn't really tell any of my local friends about it because I didn't really have any at that point (they were all more like acquaintances back then). I expected to wake up from this long, miserable dream at any moment, or to hear my stepdad's car in the driveway, or his key in the front door. I knew that I wouldn't, but I didn't choose to not let it sink in. It was a reflex.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It started to feel real in September. It started to feel real when all of my friends went back to school, and back to their year-round, non-summer schedules, and I didn't, because I couldn't go back upstate. It became </span><i style="font-family: arial;">really</i><span style="font-family:arial;"> real on my birthday, when there was no parent, or anyone with any vested interest in my survival from one year to the next, to celebrate it. That was probably the first time I felt like my stepfather was really gone. I cried all day that day, and then I got dressed and went to a Little Lungs show near the city bus yards in Brooklyn. Guitarist Angie wished me a happy birthday when I got there, out in the hallway, and it ended up being the first time I really spent time with my friend Cary. I don't completely remember, but I think that was the last time I saw the band before they quietly stopped playing shows.</span><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br style="font-family: arial;"></span><center style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;">******<br /><br /></span></center><center style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></center><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><div style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">A couple weeks later, in early October, I came to the conclusion that the only way to move forward -- i.e., go back to and finish school, and start working again -- was to go </span><i style="font-family: arial;">through</i><span style="font-family:arial;">. I decided to start sorting through my stepdad's things and finally clean out the house. My stepfather was a hoarder, and seemingly incapable of parting with 'important' papers; there were piles upon piles of old phone and utility bills, receipts, bank and credit card statements, and magazines like </span><i style="font-family: arial;">Consumer Reports</i><span style="font-family:arial;"> and </span><i style="font-family: arial;">Popular Science</i><span style="font-family:arial;"> on every spare inch of flat space, including the floors and the staircases.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I started to sort through it all slowly, occasionally finding really important stuff in the mess. When I found the deed to the house in a stack of magazines, I started to lose it. My stepdad's hoarding was a fairly serious problem, and now it was one that he would never face or overcome. For the first time I saw him and understood him not as my caretaker but as a human being, with flaws and shortcomings and emotional baggage. It was sort of a </span><i style="font-family: arial;">Purple Rain</i><span style="font-family:arial;"> moment, for anyone who's seen that movie.</span><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br style="font-family: arial;"></span><center style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/7610743684/" title="PurpleRain01 by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img alt="PurpleRain01" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7277/7610743684_45a21a4e2a.jpg" height="373" width="500" /></a></span></center><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;" ><br /></span><center style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;">Spoiler alert: Prince's character discovers a large trunk containing reams of sheet music, for songs written by his abusive father, and starts sobbing. It is brutal, my friends. You've been warned.</span></center><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span><div style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Rather than stepping back or taking a break, I flew at the mess, desperate to deal with it and get it out of the house. I spent the next three days crying, hyperventilating, sweating, and not really eating or talking to anyone. I didn't really clean or sort anything, I kind of just frantically moved the mess around and paced anxiously for twelve hours each day. When a family friend came over to check on me and asked me how the cleaning was going, I told her, "I feel like I'm drowning." When she laughed and tried to crack a joke about how I 'should' feel that way, I told her that it wasn't funny and I threw her out.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">That was the first time I'd spoken in a few days at least. For whatever random reason, using the word 'drowning' made me think of that part toward the end of the Little Lungs song "The Big Six" where original bassist Jacki sings, "her room was an ocean, she was drowning in it".</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" >I'd admired those lyrics since I'd first heard them, sometime back in 2008, but I'd never really thought about them. "The Big Six" is the last song on the band's first 7", </span><i style="font-family: arial;">Hoist Me Up!</i><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" >, which I've listened to many times, enough times to hypothesize that the "ocean", which is referred to in another song on that album ("Loft Coffin", "at night her room's an ocean, it's up to my knees"), is a metaphor for an addiction, and that 'her' is the narrator's mother. But I'd never really considered what that kind of ocean is like, or what drowning in that sense would look or feel like.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Her room was an ocean, she was drowning in it, I thought to myself, looking around my cluttered living room. Effectively distracted, I turned on my computer so I could listen to the song, and played it for the first time in ages.</span><br /><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br style="font-family: arial;"></span><center style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hmcsK65NIUo" frameborder="0" height="315" width="420"></iframe></span></center><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;"><center>The studio version of "The Big Six" by Little Lungs. (Fun fact: this song is the final track on the Spring Cleaning/Spring Breakdown mix that I posted back in May. Hashtag: #notacoincidence)</center></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;" ><br /><br />The song is only 2 minutes and 42 seconds long, but that night it felt bigger than that. The distorted dry strokes that open the song sounded more ragged and much stranger than ever, as if I'd never heard how dissonant and uncomfortable they are, and both the vocals on the first part of the song, and the lyrics sung -- "When is enough enough? When are you gonna quit it? When will you give it up?" -- sounded more strained than I remembered.<br /><br />The song's second part, the transition to it and the change in tempo and feel, the lyrics, the deceptively simple guitar part -- all of that was soothingly familiar, even with my huge feelings and messy living room amplifying its intensity, and listened for the lyrics I'd been thinking about. I listened closely, with my eyes shut, and focused on the vocals, and the lyrics that I'd known for what felt like ever at that point. The verse about watching as 'he' was pulling out of the driveway, and then the verse I'd been waiting for, about 'her' nightstand, full of prescriptions, in her room, that one that was like an ocean.<br /><br />Real talk? The song is almost unbearably sad, no matter what emotional condition you happen to be in when you listen to it. But it doesn't end that way, or with "she was drowning in it." I was really upset that night and on the verge of a real meltdown, but I kept listening until I got to the end, to the last verse, "he let it continue, feeding the big wound, the bile it needed to eat its way through you", and the final lyrics: "But you and I are <i>buoyant</i>, we ride the flood right out of here…."<br /><br />I listened as the song went quickly and smoothly into its final part, that tight, straightforward march, that strange coda that I'd never understood, but always taken for granted as the right way to end that particular song. And for the first time, I <i>got</i> it. The end of "The Big Six" isn't just its outro; it tells the rest of the story. After the flood, presumably the rushing of that ocean out of the bedroom and the house, the narrator somehow manages to get up and get on with her life. Wherever the flood leaves her, she stands up, puts one foot in front of the other, and manages to walk away from the disaster.<br /><br />I listened to the song a few times that night. And when I was done, after maybe the fourth listen, my cleaning bender was officially over. I kind of wished that the mess would disappear, wished the entire situation would disappear, but I no longer felt the compulsive need to deal with it right then. I accepted that the mess was my life at the moment, and that I was legally responsible for it. But I also knew that it wasn't really my mess. My stepfather had been a hoarder, and he was gone. But I was neither of those things. And I would eventually be okay.<br /><br />I'm not gonna say anything trite like 'that song saved my life', because I seriously resent it when people make that sort of claim -- music is powerful, and it's great, but it isn't all powerful, and life is much more complicated than that. "The Big Six" didn't save my life, but listening to it absolutely helped me to feel better. That night, the words "but you and I are buoyant" were exactly what I needed to hear. And it sucks that there wasn't an actual person or friend there to say it to me, but I'm glad Little Lungs were there to do it.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;" ><br /><br style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><center style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;">******<br /><br /></span></center><center style="font-family: arial;font-family:";"><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></center><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;" >An entire calendar year passed before I was able to even really think about cleaning, and then it took a few months after that before I actually started to do it, in early 2012. Around the time that I started to really prioritize making the house more livable, Little Lungs announced two reunion/farewell shows, in Brooklyn and New Brunswick. I didn't even think twice about it: as soon as I read about it, I knew that I would be there, to hear and see "The Big Six" live. </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="font-family: arial;"></div><div style="font-family: arial;"></div><div style="font-family: arial;"></div>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-72912667102243551202012-05-25T17:21:00.000-04:002012-05-25T17:27:46.577-04:00Late Spring Cleaning/Break(down?) Mix<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">So I know that I said I was doing all of this blog-related research and development in my last post (like, months ago -- where does time go?). And I was, until I got sidetracked by some unfortunate but very necessary cleaning. I know that spring cleaning is supposed to be like, a thing, but I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've ever really done it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">And this probably won't shock anyone who really knows me, but dudes, I am doing it <i>hardcore</i>. Not just because I'm slightly compulsive and very much a virgo, but because this is not just a matter of simple 'cleaning'. No, it is instead a matter of cleaning out an entire house. That's right: while everyone else (in the US, anyway_) is partying or barbecueing for memorial day weekend, I will be sorting through and discarding the possessions of my deceased loved ones. Awesome!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">As much as this sucks, I am a firm believer that even the most miserable of situations can be alleviated by a good soundtrack. So for anyone else who might be out there cleaning, either in the figurative or literal sense, enjoy these thirteen tracks about the emotional rollercoaster that is purging your life of things you don't want, don't need, or simply can't keep. It's painful, yes, but it's necessary to get rid of stuff to make room for new things. New things, of course, meaning 'new records'. (Or at least that's what it means for me.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://8tracks.com/rockandthesinglegirl/late-spring-cleaning-break-down">Late Spring Cleaning/Break(down?)</a> from <a href="http://8tracks.com/rockandthesinglegirl">rockandthesinglegirl</a> on <a href="http://8tracks.com/">8tracks</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/slingshotdakota">Slingshot Dakota</a> -- "Ohio"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://shoppers.tumblr.com/">Shoppers</a> -- I</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Babes in Toyland -- "Pain in My Heart"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://lostweekendnb.bandcamp.com/">Lost Weekend</a> -- "Worn Out"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The Distillers -- "I am a Revenant"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Forward Russia -- "Fifteen pt 1"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.lemuriapop.com/">Lemuria</a> -- "Length Away"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.rumbletowne.com/rtr/">RVIVR</a> -- "Edge of Living"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">At the Drive-in -- "Rascuache"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://icoulddietomorrow.blogspot.com/2010/10/bad-banana-crushfield.html">Bad Banana</a> -- "Oregon Trail"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://ayenako.org/">Aye Nako</a> -- "Let It In"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Taking Back Sunday -- "Carpathia"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.ifyoumakeit.com/album/little-lungs/hoist-me-up/">Little Lungs</a> -- "The Big Six"</span></div>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-65454652300845715602012-03-14T17:34:00.001-04:002012-03-14T17:37:26.759-04:00I'll tell your story if it kills me: some thoughts on "Women's History"<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><i>Well all I got is this goddamn guitar</i></span><i><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">and a voice that couldn't carry me far</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">but I'll tell your story if they kill me</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I said I'll tell your story if it kills me</span></i><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">-- <a href="http://thetwofunerals.com/">The Two Funerals</a>, <a href="http://thetwofunerals.limitedpressing.com/products/5227">"Western Apathy"</a></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">You wouldn't know it from the obvious lack of posting going on here, but for the past month and a half I've been busier than a beaver at work on a new dam. (…?) Really though, weird storybook-sounding animal figures of speech aside, I've spent the last few weeks re-acclimating myself to 'blog life', or trying, anyway. Most of this time has been spent on: </span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">-- researching and reading about new bands (and other stuff)</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">-- getting back into the habit of going to shows regularly</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">-- acquiring and listening to new demos</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">-- thinking seriously about what I would like to accomplish here</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">-- working on a visual redesign/update</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">-- opening up related accounts on <a href="https://twitter.com/#%21/rcknthesnglgrl"> twitter</a>, <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/">flickr</a>, and <a href="http://www.formspring.me/rcknthesinglgrl">formspring</a> as part of said redesign/update and familiarizing myself with said sites </span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">-- grappling with feelings of inadequacy and anxiety, and worrying that I might, in fact, be completely useless</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Most of this seems self-explanatory, but per my previous statements regarding talking through and being open about <a href="http://rockandthesinglegirl.blogspot.com/2011/10/vicious-cycle-and-single-girl.html">anxiety</a>, the last one could maybe benefit from some discussion. Have, uh, you ever felt like everything you do is kind of, well, dumb? Like every aspiration you have, every effort you make, every project that you care about is ridiculous, and you must be an idiot for expending so much time, energy, and emotion on it? Because <i>sometimes I feel that way</i>. Sometimes I feel that way about this very blog, and like all the encouragement and validation from friends in the world won't make any difference. </span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">So I didn't have plans to post here anytime soon. But then I realized that it was March (?!), and thusly time to celebrate Women's History Month. So I took a break one evening from my research and got out my copy of <i>Why History Matters: Life and Thought</i> by Gerda Lerner.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/6983019451/" title="WhyHistoryMattersCover by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7042/6983019451_f19f728b10.jpg" alt="WhyHistoryMattersCover" height="500" width="356" /></a></center></span><span style="font-family:arial;">[Image: an abstract painting with the text, "Why History Matters: Life and Thought"] </span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center>This is what my edition of <i>Why History Matters</i> looks like.</center></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I flipped to the back and read the <a href="http://personal.tcu.edu/gsmith/UG-Readings/Lerner%20why%20history%20matters.pdf">title essay</a> (yes, that is a link to the text, so you can read it if you want!) for the first time in years. And then I read it again (it's not very long). Because I was amazed at how incredibly relevant it felt to my experiences with studying gender within the history of 'punk'.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Gerda Lerner is a historian whose focus on Black Women's History and theories of intersectionality were fueled largely by her escape from Nazi Austria and her experiences with anti-Semitism; her essay is about history, national memory, and erasure at the macro-level. I read her work for a feminist theory course with <a href="http://msmagazine.com/blog/blog/author/jhobson/">Janelle Hobson</a>, who might actually be the coolest professor I've ever met. Despite her hipness and dedication to real-life people and their needs, the course was still very academically oriented, and our discussion of 'why history matters' still felt pretty abstract.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/6836893890/" title="Lerner_4C-1 by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7181/6836893890_3bf80d9e8e.jpg" alt="Lerner_4C-1" height="333" width="500" /></a></center></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center>[Image: an older, light-skinned woman seated at a table before several microphones.]</center></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center>Gerda Lerner speaking at the Renner Institue, <a href="http://www.viennareview.net/image/06-gerda-lerner%22">photo by Eva Steffen</a>.</center> </span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">But Lerner's reasoning as to why history matters is neither abstract nor self-congratulatory. Lerner argues that history matters because it is both a universal, human tool for self-actualization and psychic healing and a weapon used by those in power to justify bigotry and violence. She writes:</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><blockquote><span style="font-family:arial;">"We construct symbolic communities, based on ethnicity, religion, race, or any other kind of distinguishing mark, setting ourselves apart from those different from us, in order to find and enhance our own identity. We look to a past community, our 'folk' of whatever definition, and our stories weave a collective myth into our own narrative. These widespread collective myths can serve a creative, harmonizing function, in stressing shared values, ideas, and experience. They offer us heroes in the past, role models for emulation, and provide us with a coherent narrative which gives shape and order to our experience. The story of Christianity, the life of Jesus, the Protestant Ethic, the American Dream -- these are some of the collective myths which have sustained generations. </span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">"But those kept outside of these myths or those marginalized by them, experience them as destructive. In legitimizing the coherence of the 'in-group' these stories and myths reinforce the deviant status of the 'out-groups.' By making distinctions between 'us and them' appear to be natural, they reinforce a sense of alienation and 'Otherness' in those excluded."</span></blockquote><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Lerner doesn't mention subculture in her list of 'distinguishing marks', but damn if this doesn't sound like it could have been written about punk and the community that's formed around it in the last forty years. The circular, self-perpetuating process of creating and continually excluding an 'Other' has seeped into punk in that time, and so women-identified individuals, people of color, LGBTQIA folks, non-Westerners, and many others are regularly left out of punk's historical narrative. </span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/6836894260/" title="lerner by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7065/6836894260_b51e04dd32.jpg" alt="lerner" height="377" width="500" /></a></center></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center>[Image: an older, light-skinned woman stands with a sign that reads "Sarah Lawrence College, home of the nation's first graduate degree program in Women's History, founded by Dr. Gerda Lerner in 1972"]</center></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center>Dr. Lerner at Sarah Lawrence college. I love this picture.</center></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">But thinking in terms of a historical narrative, and seeing yourself as a potential part of it, is the first step to historical recovery. Lerner also writes that history "gives us a sense of perspective about our own lives" and that "by perceiving ourselves to be part of history, we can begin to think on a scale larger than the here and now." Lerner believes that every single human being is capable of learning about history and using that knowledge to 'vision' into the future and do some kind of good with it.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">A few days after I read the essay my best friend called me. When she asked me how I was I told her that I was feeling discouraged, but eventually found myself animatedly explaining who Gerda Lerner is, and why the essay has resonated with me. "That's why I'm still listening to <i>Pussywhipped</i> and <i>The Woods</i>," I said. "Because it's part of <i>my</i> history, and that makes me feel connected to something."</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Talking about that simple (not really) act of 'connecting' to a community and its shared history through vinyl and sound and ideas, and thinking about every friend I've ever discussed such acts with, and how all of them, and also tons of people I don't know and never will, are engaging with and contributing to that history? Well, let's just say that my anxiety, though valid and worthy of attention and 'self-compassion,' no longer seemed overwhelming. It seemed incredibly small, and dare I say it manageable, in comparison to punk subculture, its seen and unseen histories, and everything that has been accomplished therein.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">So even though I occasionally get that feeling like everything I do is dumb, or like I don't feel terribly confident in this blog, I know that it's not just about me or my feelings. It's about something much bigger. It's part of a larger effort to recover suppressed histories and make them accessible to the people who need them, and that's worth confronting whatever negative feelings and insecurities I sometimes I have over it. It's worth telling your story, <i>our</i> story, our history, even it if kills me. Or even if it makes me feel self-conscious and sort of stresses me out slightly.</span></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-53346386206360296382012-01-27T14:16:00.004-05:002012-01-27T14:22:39.212-05:00Get Excited, 2012: Get (Re)-Motivated<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><i>I guess it's never easy</i></span><i><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We all are underpaid</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Oh but we love it anyway</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I'm looking forward to it, yeah I'm looking forward to it</span></i><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">-- <a href="http://witchesathens.blogspot.com/">Witches</a>, <a href="http://www.salinasrecords.com/release/witches/witches/">"Big Rivers"</a></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">This year I had a surprisingly great New Year's Eve; I managed to actually relax and have fun, and so I woke up feeling PUMPED on New Year's Day, even though I spent it by myself, because I was excited to not be overwhelmed by anxiety. The next day, I woke up feeling even MORE PUMPED because I had plans to go hang with a friend and work on plans for a zine we're writing together. </span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">And then the day after that I woke up feeling sick. My allergies flared and my sinuses promptly developed an infection. I was in bed for a week and a half, and it really tested my ability to 'keep it posi in the new year' or whatever. Ten days of not being able to really do anything but watch dvds gave me a lot of time to think on what I really want to be doing. After a few days, I wondered if I really have the energy and the will to maintain this blog.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/6772096589/" title="MSCLSundayNight by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7150/6772096589_c1f2e56bec.jpg" alt="MSCLSundayNight" height="370" width="500" /></a></center></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center>[Image: a young fair-skinned woman curls up on her couch.] I spent pretty much the entire time that I was sick doing exactly this, and watching all of <i>My So-Called Life</i>. Yikes.</center></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Documenting local and underground communities of musicians and artists is important to me, and it needs to be done. The unfortunate reality is that this endeavor, especially when done through blogging, is endless and mostly (though not entirely) thankless work. It's deceptively time-consuming, and it's typically unpaid. It's kind of undervalued, considering how much skill, discipline, and self-motivation it requires. </span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">It's not about the money though. It's just that it takes so much energy and time that after a certain point, you're tired, your focus feels fuzzy because you're distracted by real life shit like grief and illness and mental health issues or whatever, and it feels like you're spending more time writing about 'the scene', and worrying about your writing, than actually participating in it or enjoying it. And at that point, you ask yourself, "Why? Really, why am I doing this?" </span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">If you get to the point where you're actually asking that question though, the universe is bound to give you an answer, some weird deus ex machina-style sign from 'above'. Unlikely though it sounds, I got mine in New Jersey.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">On Saturday the 14th I braved the low temperatures, my own post-illness low energy, and my anxiety about walking alone after nightfall in an unfamiliar town and took two trains to New Brunswick. I went to The Alamo to see <a href="http://lostweekendnb.bandcamp.com/">Lost Weekend</a> and <a href="http://curmudgeon.bandcamp.com/">Curmudgeon</a>, two bands that have really helped me to maintain my interest in local diy punk. My gut instinct said that it would be worth it and I listened.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/6772096833/" title="383020_10150564097787790_571377789_10775995_857980551_n by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7025/6772096833_9dc85b3476.jpg" alt="383020_10150564097787790_571377789_10775995_857980551_n" height="500" width="399" /></a></center></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center>[Image: Flyer for the Lost Weekend/Curmudgeon show, featuring a bleeding and bandaged head flanked by two human bones.]</center></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I'm glad that I did. Getting the hell out of New York and out of my comfort zone was good for me. Going to a diy basement venue, meeting new people, and seeing new bands was really exciting. <a href="http://softdov.bandcamp.com/">Söft Döv</a>, Lost Weekend, and Curmudgeon all played fantastic sets. I was having a really great time until Draize's set began and the moshing -- and by moshing, I mean dudes two and three times my size grabbing each other by the back of the neck and literally throwing each other across a very small, low-ceilinged (…it was a basement, after all) room, with zero regard for any of the other people in attendance -- got out of hand.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">When some dude threw me into the wall I moved to the back of the room. When I got an elbow in the chest even while hiding out there, I left. I went upstairs feeling shaky. A weird little funnel cloud of resentment and unreasonable embarrassment started to swirl around the spot where that random elbow had connected with my sternum. I almost walked right out and headed to the train station.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">But first I ran into Lost Weekend's bass player and lead vocalist, Jess, in the house's living room. When she asked me how I was doing, I blurted out that I'd been having a great time until I was nearly moshed to death. Much to my relief, Jess responded with a sympathetic eye roll. "That shit is so boring," she sighed. I sat down next to her on the couch, and a long conversation about the need for safe(r) spaces at shows, inclusivity, and activism ensued.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/6772099867/" title="DSC_5029 by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7009/6772099867_86fd4e7b70.jpg" alt="DSC_5029" height="334" width="500" /></a></center></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center>[Image: a young woman singing and playing bass as other young people look on.] Jess of Lost Weekend, as captured by photographer Rachel Atcheson.</center></span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Being able to talk about the total bro-tastrophe in the basement, and how it made me feel completely unsafe and utterly alone in that feeling, made me feel significantly better. Talking after that about local bands, future projects, feminist organizing, and strategies for combatting show violence helped assuage how powerless and panicked I'd felt. </span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">It was a relatively casual conversation, but it was more than just a couple of girls chatting. Jess validated and defused my negative feelings, carework that I appreciate whether it was intentional or not, and after that we were able to move our discussion away from the dudebros who constantly dominate any and all conversations going on in 'punk' and talk about what <i>we</i> want to work on, that change that <i>we</i> would like to see and help make happen in our communities.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Which, of course, is more or less the point of this blog. At home and recovering the following day, it occurred to me that this is more or less what I do in this space: I try to say something honest and productive about negative or harmful things that are happening in my community, and draw attention to bands and organizations that are trying to do something about these damaging practices.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I was really lucky that there was someone at that show who I could talk to. Not everyone who feels unsafe and literally marginalized at a show has someone they can express those feelings to. Not everyone feels comfortable speaking up in a situation like that, especially if they feel like they don't have any allies.</span><br style="font-family:arial;"><br style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I can try to be that ally in this space. I can't go to every show that happens and coach every nervous or lonely-seeming individual I come across, but I can try to do something similar-ish through this blog. I can try to talk about these issues and how to confront them, and create a space where conversations the one I had with Jess can start to happen. It's not an easy job and it never has been, but for the first time in what feels like ages, I'm excited to do it, and I'm even kind of looking forward to it.</span></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-37691661015498960322011-12-30T15:01:00.002-05:002011-12-30T15:07:40.889-05:00End of a Year: Smell Ya Later, 2011.<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I've never been a big fan of the whole New Year's Eve thing. The partying, the booze, the arbitrary marking of time and reification of that limiting and often demoralizing human construct -- being an introvert, it doesn't really work for me. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/6601985915/" title="OverhypedNYEParty by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7159/6601985915_d6006f2e86.jpg" alt="OverhypedNYEParty" height="440" width="332" /></a></center></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><center>[Image: a parody of a flyer for a stereotypical New Year's Eve Party with two full champagne flutes. Text: TOTALLY OVERHYPED NEW YEAR'S EVE PARTY -- GET IN A FIGHT WITH YOUR DATE IN FRONT OF EVERYONE at SUPER-DOUCHY DANCE CLUB FULL OF POSEURS AND JERSEY SHORE REJECTS -- DJ D-BAG SPINS NONSTOP DUBSTEP AND TAKES NO REQUESTS! TICKETS: SIX MONTHS' RENT AND YOUR DIGNITY -- COME GET DRUNKA ND CRY WHILE YOUR DATE VOMITS IN THE BATHROOM</center></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I tend to refrain from celebrating or making any acknowledgement the 'new year'. (In the off-chance that anyone ever wondered, that's one of the reasons that I don't post end-of-year 'best of' lists on this blog, that and the fact that it seems like lazy journalism/information better kept to one's livejournal or whatever.) I might make resolutions, but I try to avoid the sort of empty reflection and premature nostalgia that the holiday calls for. Call me weird, but if I can be aware of both myself and the things happening around me, if I can be smart about my behavior, its consequences, and how to modify it for better future results, I'd like to be that way all year, rather than for one night or one week.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">But the end of 2011 is shaping up to be the exception. It's been a weird year, people. It's been a long year. It's had its moments, but it was frequently unpleasant, and often lonely. It looks like it's going to have a relatively happy ending, but only after an inauspicious beginning and really difficult middle. So much has happened that it's hard to not look back on it. There's been a lot of change, and I feel like I've learned a lot, so for the past couple weeks I've been trying to process it and figure out how to make use of it all.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">In terms of this blog, it's been a quiet year; I only managed to post a few times. I'd like to tell you all more specifics about everything that went down -- you know, a sort of explanation-slash-sharing of what might be helpful information for others who have dealt with traumas.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">But like so many people, I'm kinda still tired from Christmas, so, I made a mix instead. There's a song for each month of 2011, to mark both how I remember feeling that month, and what I was listening to at that time. It feels like a bit of a copout, sure -- but to blog more in 2012 is one of my resolutions. So enjoy, and see you all then.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=9,0,28,0" height="250" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://8tracks.com/mixes/492953/player_v3"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://8tracks.com/mixes/492953/player_v3" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/shockwave/download/download.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" height="250" width="300"></embed></object></center></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></span><center><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">January: <a href="http://mortals.bandcamp.com/">Mortals</a> -- "Hellmouth"</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">February: Bikini Kill -- "Blood One"</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">March: Seven Year Bitch -- "Give It to Me"</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">April: Black Flag -- "Can't Decide" </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">May: Versaemerge -- "Figure It Out"</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">June: <a href="http://www.whitelung.ca/">White Lung</a> -- "Shoot"</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">July: Babes in Toyland -- "Ripe"</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">August: Sleater-Kinney -- "The Fox"</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">September: Warpaint -- "Bees"</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">October: Drive Like Jehu -- "Good Luck in Jail"</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">November: Refused -- "Tannhäuser/Derivè"</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">December: Sonic Youth -- "Genetic"</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></center><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-2627383914095402332011-12-10T14:15:00.003-05:002011-12-10T14:30:56.989-05:00Do you remember when we couldn't put it away?<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><i style="font-family: arial;">I would have posted this yesterday, but I spent most of the day preparing for and then partying down at the (almost) last P.S. Eliot show, WHOOPS!</i></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Back in October I headed over to </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.brooklynfireproof.com/">Brooklyn Fireproof</a><span style="font-family:arial;"> to support my friends and fellow volunteers in </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://ayenako.org/">Aye Nako</a><span style="font-family:arial;">. Perhaps out of what could be described as professional habit, I got there early to check out the other bands. (Short report: Mitten dropped off last minute; Troubled Sleep and Once A Pawn? Both worth googling. I'm just saying.) But I really wasn't there in any kind of professional capacity. I was there for friendhangs, not for blog fodder.</span></span><br /><br /><center style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/6488144419/" title="monkey-550x550 by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7001/6488144419_66b511cd05.jpg" alt="monkey-550x550" height="500" width="500" /></a></span></center><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><center><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><center><span style="font-size:85%;">[Image: A brown, wide-eyed stuffed monkey sits on a table.]</span></center><span><span><span style="font-family:arial;">Flier for Brooklyn Fireproof show. And again, those bands are worth looking up!<br /></span></span></span></center></span></span></div><center><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">So naturally, something reminded me of this internet space that I've been neglecting lately. I was at the merch table to say my good nights to the band when drummer Angie asked me, "So what did you think?" </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">When a person asks for your opinion like that -- or I guess when I ask someone for their thoughts on something I've done -- it's a request for some kind of reassurance, for support. It translates to, "I'm not feeling great about this, remind why I do this?" The idea of Angie, as in, "Angie Boylan (ex-Cheeky, ex-Very Okay, ex-Little Lungs, Each Others Mothers)", asking me for reassurance seemed bizarre. Trying to recover from my shock, I asked, "What did I think? Uh…why?"</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">"Well, I care about your opinion," she shrugged. Cue more shock. "You're probably the only one," I said, trying to play it cool. "I doubt that that's true," she smiled skeptically.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Standing at the merch table I considered those words. "Your opinion". There was no explicit mention of this blog, or of my pseudo-career as a music journalist, but those words made me think, </span><i style="font-family: arial;">Oh, right -- you used to have opinions on everything you listened to, you used to share them via this blog, and at one point it seemed like people actually wanted to know what you thought about stuff.</i></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">That time feels like a different life. Back then, I had the time and energy to go to multiple shows every week, to acquire and listen to countless demos and new releases every month, to record my reactions, and to update this blog every single week, sometimes three times in a five day span! I remember being able to do all of that, but only just barely. I certainly can't imagine being able to do that ever again.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">But I do remember that I loved doing it. And after what has been a long and strange year, I'm finally starting to genuinely want to contribute to and participate in my community again. I'm slowly starting to remember what and how much all of this meant to me.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">So I've quietly begun writing again, for other publications; writing your own blog is a pretty solitary pursuit and what I've needed lately is to work with other people. I wrote a piece for the </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://hoaxzine.tumblr.com/post/12710998556/hoax-6-feminisms-communication-is-officially">recent issue</a><span style="font-family:arial;"> of </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://hoaxzine.tumblr.com/">Hoax Zine</a><span style="font-family:arial;">. I've contributed </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://tomtommag.com/blog/?s=jamie+varriale+velez&x=0&y=0">two reviews</a><span style="font-family:arial;"> to </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://tomtommag/">Tom Tom Magazine</a><span style="font-family:arial;">. Last month I read at </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://library.barnard.edu/race-riot-promo">Meet Me at the Race Riot: People of Color in Zines from 1990 to Today</a><span style="font-family:arial;">, and later wrote an as-yet unpublished account of my experience at the event for co-organizer and moderator </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.danielacapistrano.com/">Daniela Capistrano</a><span style="font-family:arial;">.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">To be blunt about it: I've been really lucky. I'm fortunate enough to be able to do all of this, and to know cool people who are doing cool things, and who are willing to print my work. I'm lucky that after a year of being unable to write, I've started to recover my abilities, and that at least some friends are still interested in reading and hearing what I have to say.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">But for as grateful as I am for all of the aforementioned opportunities, and as much as I love writing, I think what I've really wanted and what I've really struggled with is needing a very specific kind of validation from my friends. What I've really wanted is for someone to say to me, "You're going to be okay." I wanted someone to insist that regardless of what I do, whether I blog or not, whether I write I or not, that I'm going to figure things out and that everything will be fine, or some version of it. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">No one has told me anything like this. I haven't really asked, because even though I think it's important to ask for what you need, especially emotionally, sometimes it feels weird to request that sort of validation. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">What I have been told, more than once, is that I "shouldn't" need that sort of validation, that I "shouldn't depend on people" for it, and that I should be more self-sufficient. And yes, self-confidence and self-reliance are both really important But what I've learned in the last year is that support, especially when you live and operate alone, is pretty fucking important too. If you are fortunate enough to have family, friends, roommates, and co-workers that you see daily, if you haven't had the experience of really being on your own, you wouldn't know this. But I have been on my own, so I do know it. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">But what I also know, passive aggressive-soap box-venting aside, is that you can get so wrapped up in what you need that you don't see what you have. I still want someone to tell me that I'm going to eventually be fine, and I consider that to be perfectly reasonable. But that doesn't negate the less direct support and validation I've received. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Friend, co-organizer, and community pillar </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://blog.katewadkins.com/">Kate Wadkins</a><span style="font-family:arial;"> asked me to read at Meet Me at the Race Riot, with the likes of Osa Atoe and Mimi Thi Nguyen, Kate </span><b style="font-family: arial;">believed that I belonged at that reading</b><span style="font-family:arial;">, even if I don't really. Friends in other bands have asked about my work, and about writing about their bands, surely out of need for publicity, but also because they must like something about what I do. My bff Cary bugs me about writing in particular on the regular. (Direct quote: "Update your blog, you daft wanker!") </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I could write all of this off as empty talk. But, at this point, I choose not to. I choose, instead, to (at least attempt to) be gracious about it, and accept it as a compliment. It only took Angie Boylan randomly asking me for my opinion to get me to realize it.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">To answer her question, Aye Nako's set that night was tight, if casual. The band seems to be writing new songs at the moment, and is gradually debuting new material at their local shows. There's a plenty that I could and would really like to say about what I've heard so far, but I think that that's a different post for a different day.</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></center></center></div>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-13758732993632707102011-10-18T14:42:00.003-04:002011-10-18T14:50:15.107-04:00The vicious cycle and the single girl.<span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" >Last week I spent days -- yes, <i>days</i> -- writing a new post for this blog. It was a post about a discussion that happened in class at rock camp in August, and I completely threw myself into it.<br /><br />And then…I decided to not post it. I read it back, and decided that even after days of writing it, I just didn't like how it had turned out.<br /><br />I wish that I could say that this was an isolated incident, or even a routine occurrence of the "they can't call be winners" phenomenon that every artist is (or should be) familiar with. But it's bigger than that. Things have quiet around here for over a month because lately, I don't like anything that I write. Lately, everything I write seems stale and boring, and I can't bring myself to think that anyone might want to read it. And I get that even at what I consider my best, readers, perhaps even most people, will still find my work uninteresting. But at least <i>I</i> used to like what I was writing.<br /><br />It's not just the finished product, either. Lately, I've found it difficult to enjoy the writing process. I used to feel that I had gotten the hang or, and was maybe even getting pretty good at blogging. I was comfortable with each step of the process, the scribbling down of a few ideas for a post, the shaping of those ideas into an outline, the filling out of the outline, and then the editing and publishing. I used to be able to do it in a few hours spread out over two or three days. But right now I can't even think about that process without feeling overwhelmed, and can't imagine how I used to do it regularly.<br /><br />So, here is where I find myself: I feel like I can't write a decent blog post about something pertinent to this blog. So I don't. And then not writing reinforces my feelings of anxiety and inadequacy. Which leads to leads to more not writing (or doing anything else productive, for that matter). Which leads to more bad feelings, and so on, and so on, and so on….<br /><br /></span><center style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/6257809241/" title="TheViciousCycle by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6162/6257809241_14df617d8b.jpg" alt="TheViciousCycle" height="500" width="500" /></a></span></center><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" ><br /></span><center style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Credit: <a href="http://www.laura-siragher.com/">Laura Siragher</a>. Orginally found at <a href="http://jaffajam.tumblr.com/post/9289813113">her tumblr</a></span></center><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" ><br /><br />As illustrated by this handy diagram, this is a cycle. It has no beginning and it has no end, so how do you stop it? How do you interrupt the cycle of unhappiness and unhappily doing nothing about it?<br /><br />Trying to answer this question has unexpectedly brought me back to one of the central concerns of this blog: access. This blog has always looked at the way gender affects a person's participation in music, and I've tried to consider how gender intersects with gender presentation, sexuality, nationality, race, and class. Now, I find myself wondering how access and one's ability to participate is affected by one's emotional health or well-being.<br /><br />I know from experience that emotional difficulties can be a real problem, but a lot of people don't seem to take 'emotions' or emotional health very seriously. Every time that I've tried to talk about how I feel and why I haven't been able to do meaningful work, almost every time that I've tried to talk about feeling anxious, or scared, or alone, or just plain unhappy, I've been told to simply <i>not</i><br /><br />To be told to simply not have a certain feeling is pretty much the least helpful advice you'll ever receive. But people still do this, I think because we as a society don't take emotions or emotional health seriously, and we don't know how to deal with it when we have these problems ourselves, and we definitely don't know how to handle it when someone right in front of us is struggling. We don't know how to respond when our friends tell us that they are in pain. So we say stupid, unhelpful things. Or, we try to crack clever cultural references, or we steal them from movies like <i>Reality Bites</i>. "Man," we say to each other, "you are like <i>in</i> the bell jar." Because we don't know what else to do or say.<br /><br /></span><center style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/6257809311/" title="IntheBellJar by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6238/6257809311_929e7eb0d9.jpg" alt="IntheBellJar" height="375" width="500" /></a></span></center><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" ><br /></span><center style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Girl, you don't even know. Image: a light-skinned, dark-haired woman in a yellow paisley shirt accurately summarizes an unseen character's emotional condition.</span></center><span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" ><br /><br />I wonder on a regular basis how much of an impact this social resistance to dealing with emotions has on girls and young women (and also, young men). It's easier for me to think structurally, and to worry about other would-be female artists of all types and their inability to get work done, than it is for me to think about my own problems. It's easier to ask myself, "What advice would I give to a friend, or to a student, who's struggling?" than it is to ask myself what I should do.<br /><br />How do you break a cycle? Whether you're talking about the cycle of anxiousness and low productivity, or the larger cycle of ignoring feelings and not knowing how to deal with them? I don't have a real, solid answer for this question. But if a friend or a student or a camper asked me, I would tell her that I believe that <i>this</i>, as in this sort of post, is the start of an answer. Maybe, rather than jumping back into your work, and expecting yourself to ignore your negative feelings, you need to acknowledge and openly discuss those feelings. Even when it feels like no one else wants to hear (or read) about your feelings, and especially when you feel like you can't talk to anyone about them.<br /><br />I would write this blog as I normally do if I could. I miss being able to focus on shows and bands and the people I know who are making music, zines, and other DIY media. But I think that first I have to learn to write about how it feels to not be able to write about the things that matter to me. You can't circumvent your own feelings, and there's no getting 'over' them, either. The only way out, it seems, is <i>through.</i></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-74593973698569054542011-09-07T16:52:00.002-04:002011-09-07T17:08:31.025-04:00Get in shape, GRRRL: or, Rock Camp, Session II<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When I last posted, I was dealing with an unfortunate combination of what one might call post-(camp) partum depression and very real, very serious distress over unrelated, un-processed emotional traumas. So I'm happy to report that, while I currently have a bit of post second-session-of-camp partum depression (which is really 'ugh, summer is over?!' bummedness), I've spent the time between sessions thinking a lot and working hard, and I feel much better than I did then. Camp was much less draining this time around, and I was able to enjoy it a lot more than I did in July.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/williemaerockcamp/6030081066/" title="bandpractice.2011.56 by Willie Mae Rock Camp for Girls, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6074/6030081066_4ec6b21bf6.jpg" alt="bandpractice.2011.56" height="500" width="333" /></a></center></span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><center><i>A fellow volunteer celebrates a victory. Credit: Kate Milford.</i></center> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm sure that the intervening weeks of reflection on my feelings had a lot to do with this, but I can't take all of the credit. Camp was a bit easier for practical reasons: I taught the advanced guitar section, which meant a smaller class, older campers, and some repeat students from previous summers. We also had the indispensable enthusiasm and assistance of our intern, <a href="http://grrrlbeat.com/about-3/">Sophie</a>, to whom I feel indebted.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Less classroom-related anxiety made it easier for me to socialize, as did the return of favorite volunteers from previous summers. Band coach and camp devotee Sarah made hours of kitchen drudgery go by quickly, while many hilarious counselors, both new and old, kept downtime in the volunteer lounge entertaining. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">One day while I was in the lounge checking my e-mail, I overheard volunteers Vaughn and Jayne indulging in some bicker-y bantering (you know, the type that only seems to happen between bandmates). "You need to get in shape, girl!" Jayne snapped. Vaughn responded by singing the same thing back, "Get in shape, GIRL…" So of course, I had to butt in, and ask what they were talking about. "Youtube it," Jayne instructed. "Trust me, it's worth it."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I was expecting the line to be a reference to some really inappropriate SNL digital skit or something. Instead, it turned out to be from this:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><center><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/GZhvocyYtSc" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="345" width="420"></iframe></center></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">In true rock camp fashion, Vaughn and Jayne discovered this kind of ridiculous, kind of really offensive, unbearably '80s attempt to capitalize on the health of young girls and set about reclaiming it, and I was there to support them. "It's like saying 'Get it together!'" Jayne explained, a kind of funny, colloquial way to express both concern and support, with both caring and a smidge of irony. We agreed that it's the sort of thing that clearly needs to be said "like, 20,000 times a day", and we got close. By the end of the week, the versatile and humorous Get in Shape! had become camp's new unofficial mantra, and sort of my own personal affirmation, as well.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Good times, for sure, but camp certainly wasn't without its difficulties. It was, as always, exhausting. There were the usual creative differences within the campers' bands, which mediating can be trying for volunteers and staff. And we had a few natural disasters, as well: first there was the earthquake, and then there was the threat of Hurricane Irene, and the transit system shutdown planned for the day of the showcase.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/6124638259/" title="new-york-city-hurricane-irene-3 by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6209/6124638259_1d4453af2d.jpg" alt="new-york-city-hurricane-irene-3" height="375" width="500" /></a></center></span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><center><i>These alerts were all over the electronic highway signs that day. <a href="http://hurricane-irene.com/pictures-york-city-irene-hits/new-york-city-hurricane-irene-3/">via</a></i></center></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">August 26, 2011, the Friday of camp week, dawned with the usual combination of excitement, tired, and premature nostalgia, as well as a hint of worry about the predicted widespread flooding of all of New York City. I was on site and multitasking by 8:15, somehow helping to set up breakfast, eat something myself, and help with reception all at once. I remember that day being humid and dreary, and I also remember that I was worrying about what to do about the showcase: I wanted to go, but knew that between the weather and lack of public transport, I probably shouldn't risk going into Brooklyn for it if I didn't <i>have</i> to be there.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Fortunately, I was spared this gutwrenching decision; in a typically bold move, the camp staff decided to hold the showcase not on that Saturday, but to instead have it that Friday, at 5pm, at camp. E-mails were sent to parents and caretakers, and the announcement was officially made at lunchtime, around 1pm. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I doubt I'm doing a good job of conveying it here, but, it was kind of nuts, to show up at camp expecting a normal Friday, and then end up staying for a two hour show, not to mention the volunteer after party. It was a long-ass day; many snacks and great amounts of coffee were consumed. But somehow we all soldiered through it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">We rallied, we had the showcase, and then we partied like the next day a hurricane might wipe us all out. I was a bit disappointed that the campers didn't get to have their day at the Music Hall of Williamsburg, where the showcase is usually held, but I'm also grateful that the campers had their showcase at all, and that I got to be there. One of the staff drew a comparison between our camp cafeteria showcase and a massive house show, which is sort of how it felt, and that's definitely not a bad thing.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I think that there was a general and shared sense of disbelief at the after party. A little disbelief that we'd decided to do things differently, that we'd actually made it work, and that we were all somehow still standing. There was also the usual sense of camaraderie that comes with a week of talking, laughing, and working closely with a small group of people, no doubt intensified by a literally incredible day and the expectation of real catastrophe that same weekend.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I eventually got over the shock though, and at that point, it was hard to be anything but inspired. Camp usually manages to expand your notion of what's possible, of the potential of both individuals and collectives, of how much we can both give and accept in return, of how different the world could look and be (far-flung as that may sound). This time around, camp helped me realize that, within the realm of possibility is my own survival, and maybe even my ability to 'get in shape', so to speak. </span><br /><br /></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-61857400598876008132011-07-20T16:05:00.002-04:002011-07-20T16:22:01.899-04:00Everything needs to be illuminated.<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><span style="font-family:arial;">I was paging through tumblr a couple weeks ago when I came across this:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/5958409589/" title="Bukowskiquote by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6028/5958409589_d16e8aa5b5.jpg" alt="Bukowskiquote" height="374" width="500" /></a></center></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I'm not a fan of Bukowski (never did get into his work), but it's hard to not like this quote, or at least feel the truth in it. What isn't addressed in this excerpt though is that there are times when bringing one's own light to a dark situation can be really challenging. Tragedy and trauma can make it feel almost impossible to stay positive and approach things with energy and sensitivity.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I very recently learned this the hard way at rock camp. Last week I had the privilege of teaching guitar and helping out in the kitchen at <a href="http://www.williemaerockcamp.org/">Willie Mae Rock Camp</a> during their first girls' session of the season. But with everything else that I've been dealing with in my personal life for the past few months, it didn't really feel like a privilege. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/5958420373/" title="WMRCcap by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6137/5958420373_6ee5a9bb6c.jpg" alt="WMRCcap" height="337" width="500" /></a></center></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><center><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;">A screencap of the <a href="http://www.williemaerockcamp.org/">Willie Mae Rock Camp website</a></span></center><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It initially felt more like an expenditure of energy that I really couldn't afford, and I momentarily considered bailing at the very last minute. But both the guitar classes and kitchen were severely understaffed, and my desire to help trumped my panic. Rather than running, I chose to train my laser-like focus on making the best of the situation, and on being the most helpful guitar teacher I could possibly be.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I could write in this forum that things were great as soon as I made that choice, but I'd be lying. Anyone who's ever dealt with grief and/or depression knows that getting through it takes a lot more than an attitude adjustment. I chose to put my energy and time into rock camp, and found that I had to keep making that choice, over and over again, in a lot of little energy-conscious ways.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">In other words: all week, I had to be especially disciplined in the art of self-care, so that I wouldn't totally fall apart at camp. I had to discipline myself to go to bed at a decent hour and get as much sleep as possible, so that I wouldn't be a total crank in guitar class. I had to force myself to get up way earlier than I have in ages so I could drive to camp with minimal traffic and parking-related stress. And then when I got to camp, I would make myself eat a good breakfast and enjoy some iced coffee. Snacking throughout the day to keep up my energy was probably the easiest of these habits to maintain. (Rock camp provides WELL for its volunteers, my friends -- big ups to Marcia and Alison for feeding us!)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/5958969476/" title="rockcampwaffles by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6136/5958969476_3f19c87d87.jpg" alt="rockcampwaffles" height="320" width="240" /></a></center></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"><center><center>Friday morning surprise waffles for the volunteers, yay!</center><br /><center>Photo jacked from the illustrious and talented <a href="http://www.malblum.com/">Mal Blum</a>.</center></center></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Other stuff I did: I got in the habit of taking journal breaks once a day, where I would find an empty stairwell and take a few minutes to scribble down how I was feeling. I also tried to socialize and talk to the other volunteers as much as possible. My co-teacher and I kept up a constant dialogue about how class was going, and we were able to bring whatever issues that came up to the other guitar teachers and in one case, the camp staff. I also tried to talk as much as possible with the other kitchen volunteers while we were working there, and I did try, with varying success, to make some new friends.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Written out that way, all that self-care work might sound exhausting, and like, well, work. Yes, it was a lot of work, especially when one considers that most of it should just be a normal part of daily life -- you know, eat, sleep, hang out, <i>duh</i> -- but it was more than worth it. It took a lot of effort, but in the end, I felt better than I expected to about it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">What's kind of funny is that, for all of that work, the actual volunteer work wasn't that hard. Every morning I would sort of brace myself for guitar class -- I would take some deep breaths and try to let go of any negative feelings I had, and more or less pray that I wouldn't snap at an undeserving camper -- but it was never necessary. As soon as the girls came into the room and starting plugging in their guitars and fiddling with their amplifiers I would relax, and I would suddenly know what to do.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Because the reality, in my experience anyway, is that being supportive isn't really that hard, and being supportive is really what rock camp is about. Teaching is never easy, but listening to someone, simply being <i>present</i>, and then saying "that sounded great -- good job!" to a camper doesn't actually take tons of energy. Simply being present, and offering a snack or some leftover lunch to a volunteer who is hungry, doesn't take tons of energy either. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">What required a lot of energy was taking care of myself. To bring it back to Bukowski (and from what I know of him, he would agree with this), sometimes <i>we</i> ourselves are that darkness, and we need to rely on other people's assistance. I think that I was able to get through this week, especially guitar class, because I had the energy of the campers and other volunteers to help me. There are times when we have to let others bring their light to us (frightening though that vulnerability may be); good thing we generally have a surplus of the stuff at camp.</span></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-80740196962778382712011-06-23T19:05:00.003-04:002011-06-23T19:21:41.559-04:00Out come the wolves.<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">A few days ago I was dutifully skimming through my Facebook feed when I came across what might be the most important thing I've ever seen on the site. It was a post from the much beloved <a href="http://www.slingshotdakota.com/">Slingshot Dakota</a>, which is easily one of my favorite bands of all time, and whose LP I listen to regularly.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thisjaneisplain/5724300549/" title="Slingshot Dakota by this is how you achieve, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3344/5724300549_1b786e2ec9.jpg" width="500" /><height="332" alt="Slingshot Dakota"></height="332"></a></center></span><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;" >Slingshot Dakota at a recent show. Sweet photo jacked from <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thisjaneisplain/5724300549/">Lauren Matulis</a></span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Slingshot Dakota's music is beautifully written, and they and their work are, in my humble estimation, radically positive. That's probably why their post shocked and even momentarily confused me: it was about a guy who's been accused of attacking women at shows on multiple occasions. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rockandthesinglegirl/5864426325/" title="SlingshotDakotaFacebook by Rock&theSingleGirl, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5304/5864426325_c07afaf876.jpg" alt="SlingshotDakotaFacebook" height="227" width="500" /></a></center></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><center><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-family: arial;"><center><a href="http://www.facebook.com/slingshotdakota">Source</a></center></span></span><br /></center></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I couldn't believe what I was looking at when I first saw it. I had to read the post several times before it sank in -- that this guy has <i>hurt</i> people, that he might be a danger, and that this band is doing their part to warn people about him -- and even then, I didn't believe it. For a second, I wondered if it might be some sort of prank, but I'm pretty sure that the members of Slingshot Dakota wouldn't joke about something like this. They've talked about sexual assault and supporting survivors before; I've even </span><span style="font-family:arial;"><a href="http://rockandthesinglegirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/musicians-speak-out-against-violence.html">written about it</a>. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">And yet, I still found myself kind of questioning the post, if not the band. I found myself having all sorts of messed up, Stockholm Syndrome, rape culture reactions. I thought how scary and dangerous it seems to call a guy out like that, especially in such a public forum. I thought how even if Slingshot Dakota meant well, maybe the original poster was misinformed, or lying, and that maybe I shouldn't judge this guy because I don't really know him myself, or anything like that. Unbelievably enough, I found myself worrying about <i>his</i> privacy.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Since I sort of started to go there myself, despite being a sex positive and radical postcolonial queer feminist, I'm sure that some people would see this as 'unfairly targeting' a guy. But if you think about it, you know what seems way <i>more</i> unfair? When rape survivors are called sluts, whores, liars and much worse after they come forward, and then have to put up with people questioning and judging their sexual histories, wardrobes, drinking habits, and other personal choices.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Because they were brave enough to make that post, Slingshot Dakota really got me thinking about assault, rape culture, and how it affects us all, and I feel like I owe them for it. It got me to thinking that I trust them, and that it's actually kind of really important to make sure you know something about a band's politics if you're going to support their work. I can say unequivocally that I trust them, and take their effort to warn their community about a potential danger seriously.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I've trusted them and taken them seriously since that first time I saw them, that first time that I heard drummer Tom Patterson speak at length about the impact that sexual assault has on both individuals and communities. I don't think I'll ever forget hearing him say, "…there are a lot of wolves in sheep's clothing" in our local scene, because when he said it I knew that he was right. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/FaMlO7ZaMRM" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="560"></iframe></center></span><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >A video of the song SD usually introduces by talking about assault, from the very show where Tom used the expression "wolves in sheeps' clothing"!!! No introduction on this video, but I still can't believe I found this! Huzzah!</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">When he talked about how there are tons of punk guys parroting progressive beliefs and using them to find and close in on victims (I'm paraphrasing here), it validated a lot of unarticulated and sometimes subconscious fears and discomforts that I've felt at shows. Tom Patterson validated a lot of 'bad vibes' I've gotten from various guys over the years, and made me feel like maybe I wasn't just being a judgmental jerk. So I owe Tom for that too, then. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Slingshot Dakota's post reminded me that I was totally entitled to all those bad vibes I got, both the ones that I forced myself forget about, and also the ones that I've written about on this blog. We are all entitled, if not obligated, to recognize potential or actual wolves in sheep's clothing. We have the power to call them out -- and to protect each other and demand accountability, safety, and better treatment for everyone in our scenes. </span><br /></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-31256637807518220972011-06-10T15:08:00.002-04:002011-06-10T16:26:27.734-04:00Exile in Lon Guyland.<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">When I wrote this blog regularly, my posts typically focused on events and musicians based in Brooklyn, and I do sort of still end up there a lot. But as part of my 'quest to heal' or whatever and figure out what to do with my life, I've been visiting my friend Cary a lot out in Long Island.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Cary and I while away the hours watching <i>Daria</i>, talking about sports and philosophy, going through his record collection, and taking the occasional <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D%C3%A9rive">derive</a>. Most of the time, his housemates are there, so I end up getting to hang out with them as well. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">A couple weeks ago we were in Cary's living room when he started telling me about the recent <a href="http://www.rumbletowne.com/rtr/">RVIVR</a>/Iron Chic show out there. Apparently the crowd got very unruly and violent during Iron Chic's set and the band was unable to calm things down, which bummed Cary out. But RVIVR's Matt Cannino wasn't having it: during their set, it seems that he chastised the crowd, and also called out the Long Island scene's culture of sexist exclusion. He referenced the song "Killing Me Softly", and asked everyone in the crowd to consider the song's themes of appropriation, and he referred explicitly to this coming weekend's Long Island Fest, and the lack of female musicians on the bill.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><center><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/xuxq4bbWP5c" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="560"></iframe></center></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><center>A great live video of RVIVR, in case you've never had the pleasure.</center></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">According to one of Cary's housemates, who was in one of the other bands on the bill that night, Cannino's comments drew the ire of the organizers of Long Island Fest. If I understand correctly, there was a heated confrontation after the show between Cannino and one of the offended parties. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">While this whole story kind of sucks, I feel like it's pretty awesome that Cary and his housemates -- both male and female -- and also Matt Cannino were unafraid to critique something that they thought needed calling out. I listened in Cary's living room as he and his housemates expressed their appreciation of Matt's onstage and off-stage comments, and further criticisms of the scene, Long Island Fest, and male defensiveness. It made me feel lucky to know them.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I felt even more lucky later that week when I went to a show in Hempstead, and Cary and his friend Dave joined me in discussing the matter with a Defensive Male. Well, actually -- it's more like Dave tried to have the conversation with this guy, and Cary and I joined <i>him</i>. The first thing I heard was this Long Islander saying "I don't understand why you're making it about there not being girls in the bands. Isn't that putting <i>that</i> before the music? Isn't it supposed to be about the music?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Dave and Cary were gracious enough to let me respond, even though this guy wasn't really talking to me. I told him that it's not just about Long Island Fest, but that it's about the larger, structural issues that prevent girls from participating fully in their local arts communities. Bro said "Okay, fine, I understand that," and I said "I don't really think that you do," and he said, "Okay, fine." I told him that bands and artists have a responsibility to their audience and community, and he said "Okay, fine," to that, too. He was civil, but just barely, and though I don't even know this person, it felt to me like he was pointedly refusing to listen to me or consider anything that any of us said.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I feel grateful that Cary and Dave let me speak, and that they supported me. I feel grateful that they made their own arguments, and that they challenged him. They didn't try to shut me up, and they didn't try to shield me, either. They held to their critiques, and they didn't back off when this guy said he felt they were 'ganging up' on him.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I might have been most grateful for Dave's final comment though. He said something to the effect of, "Three days and not a SINGLE girl in the lineup? What kind of message does that send?" This question cuts straight to what I believe is the crux of the matter. Both Cary and Dave asked why there aren't any bands with female musicians playing Long Island Fest when the island definitely has its share of talented female performers. Defensive Male claimed that it just happened that way, that it's just a coincidence, that it's not his fault that none of these bands have girls in them -- but we know that that isn't entirely true. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Three days of bands comprised entirely of dudes is absolutely NOT an accurate representation of Long Island's scene. Worse, that complete lack of representation of female musicians actively discourages would-be and aspiring Long Island girl musicians from getting involved, whether or not Defensive Male gets that. (I'm still pretty sure that he doesn't.) </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Remember those larger, structural issues I mentioned earlier? Well, this is one of them: the disproportionately low numbers of girls involved in music aren't given the credit they deserve, they aren't represented, and it keeps other girls from trying to participate. If you're already disadvantaged, if you lack support, and then you don't see other girls managing to get onstage and makes themselves heard, why would you think it's possible? Why would you keep trying?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It's because of this myth that punk and hardcore is only for straight white male middle class audiences, and the continuing limited visibility for female artists in the genre, that I really want to continue writing here despite how absurdly complicated my life is right now. I'm certainly not the only person talking about these issues, but there is strength in numbers, and I <i>want</i> to contribute my voice. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">But in case I can't: I want to use this space to encourage any one who might be reading who feels like they are being marginalized in their scene to say something about it. Because trust me, you are not alone. If you see something that makes you feel unsafe or uncomfortable or disempowered, say something about it, somehow. Because that's how you'll find other people who feel the same way and who will support you. My experience is that that's how you stop being and/or feeling like an exile, wherever you are. </span><br /></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-26110598755931422142011-06-06T00:27:00.002-04:002011-06-06T11:39:16.374-04:00DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK…because I'm not sure if I can come back at this point.<font style="font-family: arial;" size="2">So, I decided that I needed to take a break from blogging back in November. I really didn't expect for that 'break' to last seven months though.<br /><br />Initially I stopped blogging because I wasn't able to enjoy it anymore. My posts felt forced, and reading them back was painful and slightly embarrassing. But after a certain point I wasn't able to write anymore. It started early last winter, I think in December. I wasn't able to concentrate enough to write or read, especially the dense, theoretical literature that I was supposed to be reading for school. I would look at a blank page, put a pen to it, and then no thoughts or words would come to mind. Or I would look at a printed page, and the letters would run together and swim in front of my eyes. It was terrifying.<br /><br />My powers of concentration were destroyed by an emotional trauma that I am still dealing with right now, and that I will be dealing with for a really long time. It's been difficult for me to accept this: both to deal with the loss, and to attempt to move on and be and feel 'normal' again. For a very long time, I couldn't really think about anything else, even organizing and publishing new content here.<br /><br />After a few weeks of being 'on leave' I read a <a href="http://jessicavalenti.com/2010/10/07/my-new-normal/">blog post</a> that <a href="http://jessicavalenti.tumblr.com/">Jessica Valenti</a> wrote about the traumatic and nearly fatal birth of her first child, Layla. In it Jessica mostly describes the birth and how she and her family have been affected, but she does briefly mention her experiences in relation to her occupation as a writer: "It feels strange <i>not</i> to write something so life changing. Because truly, I am not the same person that I was before Layla was born…I think there's something about trauma that just shifts your consciousness."<br /><br />After reading this piece I realized that I do want to write about what I've been through. Even if it doesn't have anything to do with punk and gender. Even if it's really personal and it's scary to even think about sharing it with other people. Even if it seems like a dangerous blurring of the private/professional line. <br /><br />But it's a lot harder than I thought it would be. I just haven't been able to find the words to describe how I've felt for the past six months, and I get frustrated every time I try. So I've kind of been putting it off. The frustration makes me nervous; It makes me worry that even if I want to, maybe I shouldn't be writing here, or anywhere. Maybe I don't have anything to contribute anymore, or at this point.<br /><br />But the problem certainly is not a lack of material. A lot of stuff is happening, both in my local community, and on a national, if not international level. In the past six months there has been a proliferation of punk feminist activity on the internet, on the printed page, and in 'real life': the release of the <a href="http://www.girlgangunderground.org/wordpress/">International Girl Gang Underground zine and launch of the accompanying website</a>, the ongoing <a href="http://ilivesweat.tumblr.com/">I Live Sweat blog series</a>, the emergence of <a href="http://thepermanentwave.tumblr.com/">Permanent Wave</a>, <a href="http://girlganggigvolume.tumblr.com/">Girl Gang Gig Volume</a>, and yet another Anti-Valentine's Day Riot Grrrl Cover Band Show are just some of the ones that I've been following or involved with. I know that there's a lot more out there; that doesn't even begin to cover actual bands or releases.<br /><br />This is important, not only for its own sake, but also because it helps me to relax a little bit about all of this. There are other girls and young women paying attention to issues of female participation in punk and arts communities, and they continue to do something about it and also to invent new ways of facing these issues. There are other people documenting these phenomena, and the dialogues that I was interesting in opening up are happening in various places. As I sit here, struggling against a blank page and a cluttered brain, the scene thrives, and will continue to do so. Whether I come back or not.</font>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-79770006076446418172010-10-20T20:00:00.001-04:002010-10-20T20:04:59.171-04:00Hump Day Treat, Twenty days late edition<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Yesterday, I read over at the <a href="http://www.forthebirdscollective.org">For the Birds blog</a> that October is Domestic Abuse Awareness Month. In the <a href="http://www.forthebirdscollective.org/2010/10/october-is-domestic-violence-awareness-month/">post</a>, author Jessy writes that the month is "a time to honor survivors of domestic violence and intimate partner violence, to raise our voices against abuse and to think about working towards prevention." She also asks us to think critically about what we think domestic violence is, and what our attitudes are towards it. As she writes, one month doesn't really seem like enough time for such a heavy topic, but it could be a good time to start.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">"Domestic violence" and "intimate partner violence" make me think about a lot of things. I have a lot of opinions about these issues that have been formed mostly by personal experience, as well as by readings in feminist and postcolonial theory that I've had to do for school. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">But long before I began college, I listened to the song "Icy Blue" by Seven Year Bitch. I was maybe 13 when I first heard it, and I remember listening to the words and slowly comprehending what it was about. Somehow, 15 years later, the song is still powerful and timely. Listen and learn on this hump day. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><center><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Bsu6KObW7Hk?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Bsu6KObW7Hk?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object></center></span><br /><br /></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-43478577118933819972010-10-13T13:26:00.001-04:002010-10-13T13:28:05.024-04:00Hump Day Treat, Overshadowed Record Release Edition<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Corin Tucker isn't the only </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.killrockstars.com/">Kill Rock Stars</a><span style="font-family: arial;"> artist who debuted an album last Tuesday. On the very same day, New York City's own </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.myspace.com/marniestern1">Marnie Stern</a><span style="font-family: arial;"> released her </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://killrockstars.com/press/krs516/">third and self-titled album</a><span style="font-family: arial;">. You can get it via Kill Rock Stars on CD, as a digital download, or as an instant download with an LP order.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I myself do not yet have the album. But I have listened to the two free mp3s offered by KRS (...and perhaps a few more tracks at a certain streaming video wesbite....), and it seems like on this record Marnie continues to expand her songwriting and singing, while attempting to further develop the guitar skills that made her name. Stern has since shied away from her signature virtuosic fingertapping style, as if she is no longer willing to hide her voice and thematic content behind it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">But don't take my word for it. Listen to not one but BOTH free mp3s, and judge for yourself on this slow-going hump day.</span><br /><br /></span><center style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><object height="306" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/s1O0nrrF1MU?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/s1O0nrrF1MU?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="306" width="500"></embed></object></span></center><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span><center style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><object height="400" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hIUTxmRnf8Q?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hIUTxmRnf8Q?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="400" width="500"></embed></object></span></center>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-83544567982700246522010-10-12T14:22:00.001-04:002010-10-12T14:24:04.910-04:00Feminist Media Literacy 101: The Sexist Media Stunt and the Case for Feminist Media Literacy<span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" ><p><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v713/oftheatlantic/BitchOldIssue.jpg" alt="Bitch Magazine" width ="185" height="240" align="left" /> Anyone searching for proof that feminist analysis of pop culture is a thriving, necessary, and useful occupation need look no further than <a href="http://www.bitchmagazine.com">Bitch Magazine</a> -- especially its <a href="http://bitchmagazine.org/article/target-women-the-rise-of-the-sexist-media-stunt">Target Women: The Rise of the Sexist Media Stunt</a> piece from earlier this year. In the piece author <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jessica-wakeman">Jessica Wakeman</a> looks at a very specific and deliberate type of mass media misogyny and gives it a name: she calls out articles that invent negative, anti-woman, anti-feminist trends as Sexist Media Stunts (SMS).</p><br /><br />The SMS comes in many varieties, as Wakeman demonstrates; in addition to discussing the original "Is Feminism Dead?" SMS, she cites articles that question women's leadership capabilities and attack their sexuality, and pretend to be cutting edge in their un-p.c.-ness. The articles come from all kinds of mainstream publications, from women's magazines to national newsmagazines that allegedly have some sort of journalistic credibility.<br /><br />They're not the only ones, though. Publications and websites on popular music are no strangers to the SMS, as anyone who has ever read Rolling Stone's annual women in rock issue knows. Music magazine SMSs are typically subtle -- rather than outright questioning women's place in the industry, they treat female artists and fans as The Other, continually emphasizing gender over artistic output and consumption. Sometimes they Otherize by being hostile towards female artists, and sometimes they Otherize by being apathetic or negligent towards female artists and fans. Sometimes they Otherize by appearing to embrace female artists, as with the Women in Rock issue, while refusing to acknowledge women as artists regardless of their sex or gender.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v713/oftheatlantic/RSWomen.jpg" /></center><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><center>Aptly described by Carrie Brownstein as 'a ghetto'.</center></span><br /><br />The most dangerous aspect of these stunts is how subtle and pervasive they are. If you're exposed to nothing but articles that normalize such disrespectful treatment of women musicians, why would you ever treat female artists -- or females in general (ZING!) with any kind of respect? <br /><br />But then, that's the apparent purpose of all Sexist Media Stunts: to create a climate of hostility, meant to keep women 'in line', and to scare female and female-identified individuals away from speaking up, either in public or in their own lives. It's not 'just a magazine article', or 'just a headline', or 'just a bad review' -- it's a weapon of the patriarchy, and we have to learn to recognize it if we want to find a way to break it or use it against them. <br /><br /></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-78353373330615316952010-10-06T16:31:00.000-04:002010-10-06T16:32:35.662-04:00Hump Day Treat, Return of the Queen edition<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Corin Tucker is officially <i>back</i> -- the much anticipated <i>1,000 Years</i> was released on <a href="http://www.killrockstars.com">Kill Rock Stars</a> just yesterday. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Never having been presumptuous or diva enough to work alone, Corin's new release is technically by The Corin Tucker <i>Band</i>. She's backed here, and on her upcoming tour, by collaborators and friends Sara Lund and Seth Lorinczi.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><center><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v713/oftheatlantic/thecorintuckerband.jpg" /></center></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">My fellow fans of Tucker's work with Heavens to Betsy and Sleater-Kinney may find <i>1,000 Years</i> a bit quiet, but devotees of Corin's distinct songwriting style, of her talent for succinct, emphatic storytelling through sensuously embodied images, will not be disappointed. Oh, and yes, her voice is as thrillingly powerful as ever, even though she seems to be working hard at singing a bit differently this time around, just as she seems to have modified her vocal style with each new project she undertakes.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Corin has talked in interviews about this record's content. She's charmingly and self-deprecatingly referred to <i>1,000 Years</i> as a 'middle aged-mom record', calling it "not something a young person would write". The lyrics do feature mature themes, like marriage woes and the strain of providing for a family in the current economic climate. But Corin also sings about the excitement and the uncertainty of personal transformation, and in a way that feels quite relatable, and surprisingly comforting. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The album is <a href="http://www.buyolympia.com/krsnew/Item=KRS520">available on CD, for digital download, and as an LP with download</a>. From what I understand, if you order it directly from KRS, you can get the download instantly, right after you make your payment. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">But the album isn't the only thing that made it's debut yesterday -- the music video from the record's first single is out now too! So enjoy some brand new Corin on this pleasantly sunny, autumn hump day. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><center><object width="640" height="360" id="delve_player_object" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"><param name="movie" value="http://pitchfork-cdn.s3.amazonaws.com/player/DelveMoviePlayer.swf"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"><param name="flashvars" value="mediaId=97b10aa9e46449a4ad1d8bd6a57b66f9&adConfigurationChannelId=f41db15d64b449eaa0064d5529d83f23&autoplayNextClip=true&defaultQuality=HD"><embed src="http://pitchfork-cdn.s3.amazonaws.com/player/DelveMoviePlayer.swf" name="delve_player_embed" wmode="transparent" width="640" height="360" bgcolor="#000000" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/go/getflashplayer" flashvars="mediaId=97b10aa9e46449a4ad1d8bd6a57b66f9&adConfigurationChannelId=f41db15d64b449eaa0064d5529d83f23&playerForm=88a26316a62d4655a806dda0da4e95ca&autoplayNextClip=true&defaultQuality=HD"></embed></object></center></span></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-75519185412878215532010-10-01T14:50:00.001-04:002010-10-01T14:54:00.465-04:00On 733 days of making my own media.<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">That's right, as of this past Tuesday, Rock and the Single Girl is officially two years old! I can't believe it either. Actually, I guess what I really can't believe is how much this blog has changed in a year, and how much I've changed as a writer, critic, sometimes-musician, and cultural agent.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">About a year ago <a href="http://rockandthesinglegirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/lets-get-metaphysical-doctumenting-kate.html">I posted about</a> <a href="http://wisdomtoof.blogspot.com/">Kate Wadkins'</a> <a href="http://wisdomtoof.blogspot.com/2009/09/girl-germs-brooklyn-scene-report.html">Girl Germs Scene Report</a>, and it very unexpectedly had a major impact on my life. Posting about the Brooklyn 'scene', and the <a href="http://girgangunderground.tumblr.com">International Girl Gang Underground</a> wound up drawing me into that very network. And having that network, that community, has changed how I understand both myself and my work. I am eternally grateful. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Since getting involved with the feminist musicians, artists, and activists working in my own city, this forum has become very community-oriented. Having a specific place, and a group of acquaintances/friends/colleagues to write about, has given me the opportunity to write about the issues that us girl, queer, non-anglo, differently-abled, differently-incomed, geographically dispersed DIY activists face on a regular basis. And I think, or hope, that this has enabled me to write in a way that is more constructive, and that helps readers to figure out strategies for dealing with discrimination in their own lives. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Writing for a year about community and space has also meant writing about the media produced by these artists. It's meant looking at that media -- records, zines, videos, websites -- as well as more mainstream media in a new way. And as a result, I've learned some things: </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>1. The mainstream media has more power than any of us realize, and they're not using it for good.</b> When I posted about what l learned during my first year of blogging, I wrote that there were more female and feminist artists and musicians out there than I realized, but that there weren't enough sympathetic journalists to cover all of us. But I think that I was wrong about that. From what I've seen, read, and heard in the past year, it seems to me like the mainstream media works actively to diminish and discredit punk feminist activism, and it certainly, without doubt, works to devalue and marginalize feminist activism in general. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>2. Which means that we need to start paying more attention.</b> No one wants to read and feel marginalized, and as a result, most of my friends and I ignore mainstream media. But because of that, sometimes even the most aware and dedicated diy activists aren't entirely aware of just how powerful the media is, and how connected it is to other powerful groups in society. This troubles me; rather than ignoring the mainstream media, I think we need to work on our mainstream media literacy skills. We need to learn to read the subtle and underhanded messages that are being disseminated all around us.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>3. But what we really have to do is keep making our own media.</b> The mainstream media doesn't want us to know it, but there are tons of girls blogging, joining bands, and venturing forth into hostile territory and reporting back to us about it through zines, blogs, songs, videos, and more. These artifacts, albums, zines, etc., are more than just cultural byproducts; they <i>are</i> our culture. They are important in and of themselves, not just as materializations of our feelings and ideas and experiences. They <i>are</i> our feelings, ideas, and experiences, and they also convey information about how and why we've chosen to document certain parts of our lives. They also serve the paramount function of connecting us to each other and helping to create community.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I have to admit that I've had a good time learning all of this -- I've learned it through going to shows, hanging out with like-minded people, reading about music and listening to an untold amount of cds, tapes, 7-inches, and the occasional 12-inch. In general, despite some hardship and tragedy, I have had a good year writing this blog and dialoguing with all of <i>you</i> dear readers. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">So, thank you. Thank you for a good year, and thank you in advance for this coming year. I hope that you'll make it a good one with me, and that you'll all be inspired to make some of your own.</span><br /><br /></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-83037705586673146572010-09-29T11:37:00.001-04:002010-09-29T11:39:25.758-04:00Hump Day Treat, "Haaave you met my friend Amy?" edition<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: arial;">So I was trying to think really seriously about this blog reaching its two year mark, where this blog is at, and what I've learned here in the past 365 days. But then my friend and fellow rock camp volunteer Amy, who plays in Titus Andronicus posted a kick ass and unfortunately short video of her band doing an awesome cover:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><center><object width="400" height="300"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=15291012&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=1&color=&fullscreen=1&autoplay=0&loop=0"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=15291012&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=1&color=&fullscreen=1&autoplay=0&loop=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/15291012">Titus Andronicus -- "Rebel Girl" (Bikini Kill)</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user4816543">mehan jayasuriya</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p></center></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><center><a href="http://amyandronicus.tumblr.com/post/1202537565/titus-andronicus-plays-rebel-girl-by-bikini-kill">via Amy's fantastic blog</a></center></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Readers might remember Titus Andronicus from <a href="http://rockandthesinglegirl.blogspot.com/2010/04/red-hook-highs-men-can-stop-rape.html">my post on Red Hook High's Men Can Stop Rape benefit concert.</a>. For anyone who hasn't had a chance to listen, here's a music video featuring the lovely Amy. Don't be fooled by the beards and touches of plaid or the 'critical' acclaim from places like Pitchfork on this sunny hump day. Just enjoy the great songwriting, wonderful energy, and a band that knows how to use their love of the E Street Band for good, and not evil.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><center><object width="450" height="278"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/08fqHr_KGPY?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/08fqHr_KGPY?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="450" height="278"></embed></object></center></span><br /><br /></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3958755632551920246.post-58238281993832100992010-09-22T20:15:00.001-04:002010-09-22T20:18:23.953-04:00Hump Day Treat, Last week's show this evening edition<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Though I admittedly did a lot of crying last week on my birthday, I ended up having a really good time at a fantastic show that night. Completely by coincidence friend and fellow volunteer Angie was playing that night with one of her bands, </span><a style="font-family: arial;" href="http://www.myspace.com/littlelungsnynj">Little Lungs</a><span style="font-family:arial;">, and so I ended up seeing and hanging out with a lot of other volunteers, friends, and hometown diy heroines. Still feeling grateful for the entire experience on this damp hump day.</span><br /><br /><center><object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dSuVgLau8J8?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dSuVgLau8J8?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="340" width="560"></embed></object></center></span>jamiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09384263137383065723noreply@blogger.com1