this song had a profound impact on me as a teenager re: concepts of “fame” and “celebrity” … it still very much resonates, it’s words echo around my head all of the time.
look, one of my main goals in life and in writing is smashing social hierarchy. there’s a verse in this song that says:
and like every major threat
they somehow find a way to buy it
they co-opt what we create
while they get rich and we deny it
the TV tells us there are stars and fans
and there’s just one way to make it
follow the label’s rules
use the master’s tools
and when the big deal comes you take it!
you’re selling hope to angry kids
who think that you’re the only ones
who sing about what makes them sad
who understand the way they feel
that’s just cuz your label pays
for multi-colored tour posters
so no one ever hears about
the kids doing it for real
"THE KIDS DOING IT FOR REAL" … this is literally a line that plays through my head when i write about bands with no labels or paid PR help for "big" sites/magazines. it does come at a price, which is me feeling sort of gross for writing for sites with ads. that’s why i’m actively trying to create sustainable ad-free alternatives.
i’m not going to stop talking about this because these are the most important things in the world to me and i won’t let someone else — someone who has never met me, and knows nothing about me — speak on my behalf.
~ Festival NRMAL coverage ft. interviews that criticize US mainstream media for perpetuating stereotypes about Mexico + also point out how indie rock is classist
~ potty mouth interview discussing sexism in music writing wherein ally shouts GENDER DOES NOT EQUAL GENRE
~ lollapalooza coverage, the little part where i get to shit talk InBev + fake “indie-sounding” beers at corporate festivals and how they’re a microcosmic example of fake “indie-branded” bands on stage that are actually backed by huge major labels. this really deserves a full feature and not just a few sentences, hey someday maybe, glad i at least got that part in
~ link to anarchist publisher crimethinc’s “capitalism is a period scheme” poster within opening sentences of this large feature. i’m hesitant to link to this piece because there’s a lot of parts i do not stand by anymore, a lot of mistakes and things i wish i didn’t write, etc. still one of my favorite moments writing for this site though b/c of discussion it caused. i learned a lot
~ excerpt from andrea dworkin’s “Mass Murder In Montreal: The Sexual Politics of Killing Women” in talking about ‘dead girlfriends’ … however you feel about the band, this ‘music media event’ was interesting and brought a lot of important conversations to huge audiences
none of these are huge deconstructions or in-depth analyses of social injustice or anything and maybe you think i am naive for thinking any of this matters but when you look at how crazy and terrible and boring online music media can be today, to have been able to spend ~ 2 years entrenched in a publication that reaches hundreds of thousands of music fans every day, and rip littles holes in it, and maybe get people to think about a perspective they’ve never been introduced to before, feels interesting
a few front page layouts of the media so far (well the top halves of them, anyway)
A benefit show for The Media's first print issue is at Silent Barn on Friday with Priests, Noun (mems. Screaming Females), Heavy Bangs (mems. Radiator Hospital), and Arm Candy (Nathan Albert's new band named after a Hysterics song). All of the bands feature at least one person who has contributed to The Media. The show will begin with a public editorial meeting (more on what that means here).
BROS FALL BACK is a zine i first stumbled upon this year at Ladyfest Philly. it is a great and important read - it talks about the sorts of deep embedded normalized oppressive behavior we all encounter on the regular. it deconstructs the influence of capitalism and social currency on identity and how that affects interactions within the context of punk shows — but really, shows are like little microcosms of the world at large, so in a way i feel like everything in this zine can be seen as just an example of over-arching dynamics that exist elsewhere in the world too. i’d advise anyone/everyone to keep that in mind, read thru this PDF, and then re-consider the sort of space they take up, whether that be physically at a show, or in conversations (that may or may not have anything to do with punk or shows or music at all) and also in communities (whether those be friends, families, neighbors, music scenes, co-workers, etc.) you can find a PDF of BROS FALL BACK right here.
author Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore speaking with Allison Francis about “critique as an act of love” for this week’s issue of The Media - they were specifically speaking about Mattilda’s work within radical/queer communities but I think the sentiment is really universally relevant + important to think about/remind yourself of from time to time.
It’s a Saturday night in August and my third-floor apartment is packed with the usual mix of friends and strangers, neighbors and college kids, traveling band members and Boston DIY scene staples. The room feels heavy and humid. There are 50 people in a room meant to hold 15, it’s 90 degrees outside, we have no AC, and the windows are sealed so as to not leak sound. The neighbors already threatened to call the cops once tonight. One of my favorite local bands, Krill, are playing through songs from their new-ish album Lucky Leaves, smart and sad and noisy as hell rock songs fit more for a basement than our living room. “This is our last DIY show with Luke,” Krill singer Jonah Furman says about the band’s drummer, a/k/a Lucky, who is about to move to London for grad school. (His drum set takes up half of the room.) Jonah hops over an amp and gives Luke a kiss goodbye, before tearing into “Theme From Krill,” wherein the whole living room sings along: “Krill / Krill / Krill / Forever / Krill krill / forever and ever,” the absurdity of which is only really apparent now that I’m writing it down. Tonight is also one of the last shows at Dreamahus, where I’ve been living and throwing shows with my friends for two years.
Three weeks later, it’s a Thursday night, almost 10pm, and I’m sitting in the passenger seat of my former editor’s car. We’ve just left an MIT panel on the history and legacy of Boston’s legendary alt-weekly newspaper The Phoenix, where we both worked in March when the paper folded. Now, we’re headed to pick up a salvaged red Phoenix news box; tomorrow night, ‘pallbearers’ will carry the news box in a procession downtown for the Phoenix Funeral. On our way, we pass the apartment that was once Dreamhaus. I think about the Krill show, and the long list of local and touring bands that played over the years: Quilt and Mutual Benefit, Tomboy and Bent Shapes, Majical Cloudz and Squarehead. “They’ll never know,” I think out loud, staring at the shadows of anonymous new tenants in the windows.
this on repeat
after 2 months of constant traveling i have concluded that all ppl in touring bands are robots or aliens thank u good night