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Tying it All Together: Music in Film Part 2

Written by Peyton Lawrence. Graphic by Moira Ashley.

WARNING! Spoilers ahead for Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, Us, and Across the Universe

Welcome back to today’s installment of the film and music series! Last time, we talked about a film’s score and what makes it work psychologically when it’s part of a scene. We looked at a little bit of film history and how a well-crafted score can help set the tone of an entire film. It’s no secret, though, that the score is only part of a soundtrack. Today, we’re going to be looking at the other part- the tie-in songs.

So, what even is a tie-in song? While a score is a primarily instrumental collection of music composed specifically to be the background for scenes in a film, a tie-in song is a song that fits the more traditional “radio-friendly” definition of a song. By this, I mean a song that follows a standard contemporary song structure, with verses, choruses, and more often than not, a lead vocalist (or two, or three, you get the picture) singing lyrics. These tie-in songs serve many purposes in a film. They can fill the shoes of the score, setting a tone and heightening the emotions of a scene, but with the addition of lyrics, we now have a more concrete reference telling us about what we’re seeing on the screen. In the iconic training scene from Rocky III, we don’t just get inspirational, uplifting music, but we also get Survivor singing at us about how the character is, “Rising up, straight to the top, had the guts, got the glory.” Subtle, right? On a more pragmatic level, these songs can be used as very effective marketing tools. Get a big-name pop star to write an original song for your film, and you’ve essentially secured yourself an audience of that musician’s fans.

Let’s take a brief interlude to explain diegetic vs non-diegetic sound in film. It’s pretty straightforward but it’ll matter when we look at how tie-ins can help with worldbuilding. Diegetic sound is sound that exists inside the world of the movie, i.e. a song playing out of the radio in a car the main character is driving. Non-diegetic sound is things we, the audience, can hear but the characters can’t. It’s important to note that scores are almost universally non-diegetic. Tie-ins, not so much.

There are two main sub-categories of tie-in songs. There are songs that were written specifically for a film and those that existed as a piece of music but were used in (and in some cases, made popular by) a film.

One of the most famous songs written for a film is Cèline Dion’s My Heart Will Go On, used in James Cameron’s 1997 blockbuster, Titanic. The main melody mirrors that of the track “Rose” from James Horner’s score but adds Will Jenning’s saccharine-sweet love song lyrics and pop ballad style percussion and guitar. The song became the main theme and end credits track for the film. The one-two punch of Cèline Dion’s popularity and the overwhelming commercial success of the film (it’s still the third highest-grossing film of all time) led to the song topping global charts and eventually winning many prestigious awards, including two Grammys and one Oscar. While this song specifically was written for the film, this is a prime example of a relatively common phenomenon- when a song becomes synonymous with the film it’s used in. Don’t You (Forget About Me) isn’t just another 80s pop success, it’s the Breakfast Club song. Eye of the Tiger is the Rocky training montage song. Can You Feel the Love Tonight is the Lion King song. When a film becomes a cultural juggernaut, its music often becomes inextricably linked.

I could write an entire article about the genius of the scoring and soundtrack of 2018’s Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, but I’m going to try to control myself. Daniel Pemberton is a master at establishing musical themes in his score that are then expertly incorporated into the tie-in songs. In my opinion, one of the most perfect examples of this is the establishment of the distorted elephant noise as a signifier of The Prowler, an antagonist who is revealed to be the main character Miles’ uncle Aaron. The revelation that a man he previously looked up to is actually working for his arch-nemesis and his subsequent death is devastating to Miles. Eventually, however, the Prowler musical motif is used in the song What’s Up Danger, a song that plays over the scene where Miles comes into his own both as an individual and as his own unique version of the Spider-Man. The usage of this motif is so powerful because it acknowledges and accepts that Aaron was both The Prowler and deeply influential to Miles’ growth as a person. Every single tie-in song in the film is an homage to Miles’ heritage as an Afro-Latino kid from Brooklyn, featuring prominent black artists like Denzel Curry and Jaden Smith. It’s really a beautiful example of how tie-in songs can be used to add layers of meaning to a film beyond just setting tone.

Now into the world of previously existing songs used in film. I’d be denying myself if I didn’t bring up a horror film in some capacity. One of my favorite contemporary horror films comes from only two years ago, Jordan Peele’s Us. The way Luniz and Michael Marshall’s I Got 5 On It is used is almost the anti-My Heart Will Go On. Remember how we talked about diegetic sound? The song is first heard playing on the radio as the lead characters, the Wilson family, drive to the Santa Monica Pier. This introduces us to the musical theme that is then repurposed for the score. (Whereas My Heart Will Go On was in the score first then turned into a tie-in song… get it?) Our first encounter with the song is one where the Wilson family is having a bonding moment before any of the action really starts. It lets us get comfortable with the song, to associate it with a sweet scene in the film. Before long, Peele metaphorically smacks us in the face with the same melody by using it (non-diegetically, I may add) during the apex of the story, the boss-battle between Adelaide Wilson and the main antagonist- her tethered, Red. The usage of this melody that we were led to associate with family creates some interesting questions about the nature of the film as a whole. Do the people who exist freely aboveground have some kind of familial obligation to the tethered, their clones? Did Adelaide rob Red of the life and family she could’ve had by switching their places and forcing Red to go underground when they were children? Philosophical questions aside, the adaptation of the song is a much more carefully crafted and impactful version of another relatively common phenomenon, when a tie-in song is slowed down or otherwise altered to create dramatic effect. I’ll try to avoid passing judgment on this tool, nicknamed “trailerizing”. You can see it in the trailers for films like 50 Shades of Grey using Crazy in Love or the 2015 movie San Andreas using California Dreamin’. I hesitate to even mention Us in the same category as these dramatic interpretations of well-known songs, because while trailerizing a song can be effective marketing, it often is just that and doesn’t add much substance. Us does it very intentionally in a way that adds value and depth.

Lastly, let’s talk briefly about a genre of film that’s taken off in recent years. I’m talking about the tie-in song’s theatre kid cousin, the jukebox musical. Jukebox musicals are films that take pre-existing music, often from only one artist or group, and create a story based on an interpretation of the songs. One of the most iconic is 2008’s Mamma Mia!, featuring the music of ABBA. A significant draw of the genre is the utilization of familiar music to tell an entirely new narrative. For example, in the 2007 Julie Taymor film Across the Universe, music from The Beatles is reinterpreted to tell the coming of age stories of an ensemble of characters in the late 1960s-early 1970s. While the film certainly has its issues, it provides an interesting perspective on some of the most universally known songs in history. For example, the song I Want to Hold Your Hand is transformed from a pretty standard love song to a song depicting the longing that a young woman feels for another woman, and how it feels like an impossible romance because same-sex relationships were still very taboo during the time period when the film was set. Jukebox musicals will often draw criticism from music “purists” who don’t want to see their favorite artist’s work be given new meaning, but I feel that as long as the music is handled with care, getting a fresh look at old favorites can be a good thing.

Like I mentioned last time, there really is no way to fit all of film soundtrack history into one neat little package, and there are so many fantastic (and terrible!) examples of tie-in usage that I couldn’t possibly cover them all. Ultimately, music and the impact it has on us is so deeply subjective that the examples you find particularly successful in films you love will be completely different from the person who read this before you and the person who will read this next. And that’s a good thing! Every person brings their own experiences with them whenever they enter a theatre or pull up Netflix, and this allows for an infinite number of unique perspectives on how the film made someone feel or what questions it leaves them thinking about for days to come. Just like last time, I really encourage you to listen closely to the films that have stuck with you. Your sound designer friends will thank you for it, and in all likelihood, you’ll find something more to love.

#peyton lawrence

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Women in Hardcore Part 3: Kelly Leonard

Written by Jennifer Moglia. Graphic by Moira Ashley. 

Welcome back! This is the third installment of a new series on Girls Behind The Rock Show, consisting of interviews with women and gender-diverse people in the world of hardcore and punk music. We’re hoping that these conversations will shine a spotlight on some of the most inspirational, powerful non-male people in the genre today, and show our readers that music has no gender, regardless of the genre - if you want to be involved in hardcore, you can be involved in hardcore, and your gender identity should never stop you from doing so. 

In this part of the series, we got to chat with Kelly Leonard. She’s different from the other interviewees in the sense that she isn’t in a hardcore band herself, but the impact that she has had on the genre is undeniable.

Leonard runs xSisterhoodx, a blog/zine/merch store/community/you name it dedicated to supporting straight edge women/gender-diverse people and women/gender-diverse people in hardcore. Hearing about how she became involved with the genre and how she got to where she is now was inspiring, and really got me thinking about what I can do for my own little section of this community.

Jennifer Moglia: Hey Kelly, thanks so much for doing this! Could you introduce yourself to our readers?

Kelly Leonard: My name is Kelly (Brother) Leonard, I’m 41 years old. I grew up in Pine Bush, NY, but I now live in Northford, Connecticut. My pronouns are she/her.

JM: How did you start listening to hardcore? Do you remember what first got you hooked?

KL: I grew up in New York, not the city, but not really upstate either...we were right in the middle between NYC and Albany. All throughout my freshman year of high school, I listened to punk. Most of what I had access to came from Vassar College Radio. 

It wasn’t until 1995, my sophomore year, that I was really introduced to hardcore. I had started dating a guy who was a drummer; he was super into progressive rock (think Dream Theater, Rush, etc.) and after we had started dating, he was asked to join a local hardcore band.

The singer for the band was a good ten years older than us; he was straight edge, married, and was one of those people with a brain like a trap. He had an encyclopedic memory for bands, especially metal and hardcore bands, and just about every week at band practice he would bring

us mixtapes and zines -  he essentially gave us a punk/hardcore education. I was hooked!

Looking back it’s hard not to see how lucky and spoiled I was - I was in NY in the 90s, when hardcore was exploding in the area, and the band my boyfriend was in was fairly popular locally, so they often got on shows with larger “brand name” bands. It was an amazing experience.

I can’t remember the first band that got me hooked, but I have a very clear memory of

when One King Down’s “Bloodlust Revenge” came out. We, my boyfriend, the singer of his

band, and his wife, were sitting on a bed in my boyfriend’s bedroom and we were listening to the record on one of those all-in-one CD player/speaker combos. 

I remember thinking that the drums sounded like cannons. We then went to see them at the QE2, and it was mayhem...it was awesome.

JM: What is it about hardcore that made you love it and want to be a part of it? Do you still feel that way about the music and the community now?

KL: Even though I didn’t live in NYC, living in NY alone allowed me to be heavily influenced by NYC’s scene. I was attracted to and bought into the concept of unity and brotherhood/sisterhood/family.

My house growing up was pretty chaotic, my dad was an angry man, and hardcore was an escape from that (the irony of that statement is not lost on me). It was a place I could go to be part of a different kind of family; I felt accepted, and I felt like I had found my people, as corny as it sounds. I loved that I could show up to a hardcore matinee on a Sunday and see my friends from different schools.

In a way, yes, I feel the same, but I’ve been going to shows since I was 15, and I’m 41 now, so it’s a bit different. When my husband I go to a show we meet up with people we have been friends with for 20+ years...it really is a lot like extended family. We show up, everyone hugs, we catch up, we listen to bands, we talk about our kids - it’s a great time.

JM: How did you get to be involved in hardcore, particularly leading xSisterhoodx?

KL: I wish I could say that xSisterhoodx was all my idea, but it wasn’t. The girl who did start it has asked me not to mention her name, so I won’t.

At the time I was running a small online club called The Girls With Moxie; I had created a website with profiles and I would hand laminate membership cards and mail them out. It was silly, but a lot of fun, and we had members from all over the country. 

When I started to get more into straight edge I began to look for other girls like me, and there weren’t many of us, so I started searching for a community. I found that with xSisterhoodx.

The girl who was moderating it decided she no longer wanted to do it and asked if anyone wanted to take over, so I raised my hand, so to speak. I took everything that I had learned from The Girls With Moxie (building up membership profiles and content) and poured it into xSisterhoodx.

Things were different back then - derogatory phrases directed towards women in hardcore like “no clit in the pit” and “coat rack” were common, and I was told over and over again that girls couldn’t be straight edge, or I needed to “know my role.” 

I remember feeling like I always needed to prove myself; it was especially hard because people

would assume I was into straight edge and hardcore because of my boyfriend when the reality

was that we came into it together. I knew there had to be others like me who felt the same frustrations.

A lot was going on in the 90s into the early 2000s in the straight edge scene that was pretty

Cringe-worthy and, at some points, toxic. I tried hard to ensure that xSisterhoodx was less like that, a place where their voice could be heard, uninterrupted, and without being instantly called a slut or a “band-aid” or having their motivations questioned.

Things started to come together for the site in the early 2000s, MySpace took off and made

networking much easier. By then my high school boyfriend and I had parted ways, and much

to the surprise of some, I was still going to shows, and still straight edge. 

I started working as the metal and hardcore director for the radio station at my college and I started to work on getting connections to start offering contests and giveaways on the site. I would do a weekly streaming radio show and upload it to the site too...just about every week a random guy would call and “test” my knowledge of the music, or accuse me of having someone else make my playlists.

JM: Do you think that the genre of hardcore as a whole could or should have more representation for women and gender-diverse people? Is there anything you think could make the genre a better place for you or for others?

KL: Would I like to see more she/her/they/them involved, absolutely! To be fair, there are way

more women/girls/gender-diverse people involved in the scene now than when I was growing

up, so progress is happening, slowly. 

Sometimes, I worry that the toxic masculinity present in pockets of the scene will force the community to contract. I can’t see today’s kids, who crave inclusivity and diversity being drawn to a scene that harbors, promotes, and/or accepts antiquated attitudes towards gender. My hope is that as the world re-opens, and we start to get more control over COVID-19, that a new

generation of kids will discover hardcore and infuse new life and ideas into it.

JM: What helps you feel welcomed as a woman/gender-diverse person in the world of hardcore? 

KL: That’s a really difficult question to answer. It’s not that I feel welcomed or unwelcomed, and I

think that comes from just being here for so long...I’m not a new face.

As far as making it a more welcoming space for younger/new people, I’m not sure. I think that it’s incumbent for those who have sway/”clout” to speak out against any abuse in the community.

I can understand why someone may have the instinct to gatekeep their scene; they care about

it, it means a lot to them, they’ve invested a lot into it. Sometimes new people show up and

immediately start trying to change things, and/or act as they know more or better. 

I think we all need to remember that we were kids once, too. In my case I had someone older and more knowledgeable to help me out, so I try to return the favor. I think if more people did that, we’d be off to a good start.

JM: What would you say to a young girl/gender-diverse person who wants to get more involved in hardcore but might feel intimidated or nervous?

KL: My advice to anyone new to the scene would be to take it slow - show up, absorb, try to

understand the dynamics, and talk to people! It’s like when you become a regular anywhere like your local coffee shop or supermarket; the more you show up and talk to people, the more they accept you as part of their group.

It’s important to not freak yourself out and convince yourself that you are on the outside. Talk

to people, take some risks; you’d be surprised how willing most people are to accept you into

the fold. And seek out other people like you - there are a few groups out there for networking like Women of the Pit, us at xSisterhoodx, and even you guys at GBTRS!

JM: A lot of times I feel as if women/gender-diverse people in hardcore are seen as just that, a non-man in the genre, and nothing else. What else are you passionate about?

KL: When I was growing up I always felt that I was seen as my boyfriend’s girlfriend or I was there for the wrong reasons. That was really frustrating for me. 

As for my passions, I’m a mom with three crazy kids, ages 13, 11, and 8, two girls and a boy...none of them care about hardcore music at all. I own a small business called Just Buttons, we produce custom pin-back buttons, magnets, stickers, yard signs, and so on.

I’m fairly crafty; I like to make my own candles, soap, and bath bombs, and I also crochet. I’m a gamer, an avid reader, and have always been super passionate about straight edge.

JM: I’m glad you mentioned straight edge! Even though everyone taking part in this interview series is involved in hardcore in some way, not everyone is straight edge. Could you talk about what being straight edge means to you?

KL: Straight edge, from a high level, means that I don’t drink, smoke, or do drugs, but it’s more than a clean and sober lifestyle; it’s a way of looking at my life and the world and making the best possible decisions for me. I knew when I was a kid that I didn’t want to drink, but everyone around me was telling me that’s what people do, that’s how people unwind and have fun.

Straight edge taught me that that was bullshit, that I didn’t need to drink to fit in or make people like me, that I could be exactly who I was, no apologies. I think it’s important to reflect and ask ourselves why we are doing the things that we are doing. Does it serve us? Is it making our lives better or worse? In my case, straight edge has always been a net positive.

I also think it’s important for people like me to not judge others, but rather show them that there are alternatives to going with the flow and the status quo, that you can be your authentic self without the trappings of drugs and alcohol. You are cool, loveable, acceptable, and awesome just the way you are and you don’t need a substance to enhance it - don’t listen to anyone trying to convince you otherwise.

JM: Thank you so much again for doing this! What's next for you and for xSisterhoodx? Is there anything else you want to say?

KL: My goals include continuing the xSisterhoodx interview project and one day creating a print zine/book from the interviews. I would also love to bring on more writers, get more people involved and invested. Thank you for this opportunity!

We hope you enjoyed this conversation with Kelly Leonard as much as we enjoyed having it with her! You can keep up with her by following her on Instagram @KellySisterhood and you can keep up with all things xSisterhoodx on their Facebook @xxSisterhoodxx, Instagram @xSisterxHoodx, and their website. Keep an eye on our website for the next interview in this series, coming soon!

#jennifer moglia

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The Revival of Music Videos

Written by Valerie Jackson. Graphic by Paula Nicole.

The golden age of MTV is behind us, VMA viewership has been dropping steadily for years with this year having the lowest views in history. Yet, we are still hearing about some of the most iconic videos of the year on social media. But what is drawing people to share and discuss them? Artists are redefining what makes a good music video, while opening up a social conversation in the process. Fans on social media sites like Twitter and Instagram act as a catalyst for drawing attention to certain artists, and often work like additional marketing. But all the credit can’t be given to the fans, as important as they are. These artists have given viewers something to latch on to, something to inspire, anger, mesmerize, or relate to. Many artists are telling stories that haven’t had much of a spotlight in past years. They are expanding their creativity into a new medium, and creating iconic pieces in the process. Some songs being more remembered for the video that accompanies it, demonstrates the impact of the visual aspect.  

Doja Cat has brought a new twist to the themes common in R&B and rap. Her video “Kiss Me More” is one of the most popular videos of the year, with it garnering over 200 million views on Youtube so far. The fascinating set and costume design really transforms the video into something unique, while also being a bit reminiscent of a 70s disco video. Her music video for “Say So” draws more direct inspiration from the 70s, using the same methods. The videos end up feeling simultaneously nostalgic and refreshing, which goes hand in hand with her music. It feels as if Doja Cat is upcycling the popular styles and trends from before to give them a brand new look and feel with all the best influences of the previous eras.

Lil Nas X has been one of the most iconic visual artists this year. The music video for his single “MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name)” was praised for telling a story of self-acceptance, and won “Video of the Year” at this year's VMAs. At the same time, it was criticized for its use of Christian imagery and an open display of gay relationship. His music video for “Industry Baby” challenges the expectation for rap videos. “Industry Baby” shows queer love and lust in the same ways heterosexual rappers have been demonstrating it in their own for decades. Sexual music videos have always been common in rap, homophobia is also incredibly common in the community. Lil Nas X is receiving so much backlash from the community because he has shifted the objectification from women to men, which is not something the rap community is used to.

Yves Tumor is another great example of a queer artist using music videos to really solidify their work. Their videos for “Jackie” and “Gospel For A New Century” perfectly complement the psychedelic sound of their songs. In “Gospel For A New Century,” Tumor used lots of religious imagery in a similar fashion to Lil Nas X did in “MONTERO.” It’s interesting that they both decided to represent themselves as the devil in their videos. The demonization of themselves shows how they have been perceived by society for their sexuality and gender identity.

Kpop artists are also bringing a refreshing style to music video styles. Groups like Loona and STAYC are producing fun, bubblegum pop type videos that are reminiscent of 90s girl groups with a modern edge. In addition to eye-catching scenes, they have phenomenal choreography that ties the whole thing together. In addition, these girl groups are singing about confidence and girl power, which is reflected in the clothes they wear. These girl groups have also had a large impact on fashion trends with bright colors and bold accessories being the style adorned in both their music videos and off-camera. Their influence has been spotted from Asia to the United States, stores like Forever 21 and H&M are carrying the classic preppy style that could be spotted in any TWICE clip.

As someone who grew up in the 2000s, it’s really exciting to see these kinds of music videos now that I’m older. When I was in elementary school I would watch the video for “When I Grow Up” by the Pussycat Dolls religiously on Youtube. My parents always played their favorite music videos from the 80s and 90s for me and my brother when we were growing up (“Remember the Time” by Micheal Jackson was a household favorite). I remember staying up to watch Iggy Azalea's  “Fancy” and Katy Perry’s “Last Friday Night” and then discussing them with my friends the next day at school. Seeing videos like “ASAP” by STAYC or “Rules” by Doja Cat reminds me of staring at my dad’s computer, being completely entranced by whatever artist was on the screen. Personally, I felt like there was a bit of a lull in terms of new and engaging music videos in the last five to ten years, but in the past year or two, it feels as if artists are stepping up their game and producing some really beautiful and thought-provoking work.

#valerie jackson

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Women in Hardcore Part 2: Lexi Reyngoudt

Written by Jennifer Moglia. Graphic by Moira Ashley. 

Welcome back to the second installment of this new series on Girls Behind The Rock Show, consisting of interviews with women and gender-diverse people in the world of hardcore and punk music. We’re hoping that these conversations will shine a spotlight on some of the most inspirational, powerful non-male people in the genre today, and show our readers that music has no gender, regardless of the genre - if you want to be involved in hardcore, you can be involved in hardcore, and your gender identity should never stop you from doing so. 

This part of our series is an interview with Lexi Reyngoudt of SPACED, a brand new hardcore band from New York. Their first demo came out this summer, and the love they’ve received for it has been genuinely inspiring. 

I got to chat with them about how their involvement in the genre started, what being in the band has been like so far, and what the future holds for her. In a time where so many conversations can be exhausting, chatting with Reyngoudt really recharged my mental batteries, so to speak, and got me excited about hardcore again.

Jennifer Moglia: Thanks so much for taking the time to do this! Could you introduce yourself to our readers?

Lexi Reyngoudt: My name is Lexi Reyngoudt! I am 25 years old and I grew up in a small town called Holley in western New York. My pronouns are she/they.

JM: How did you start listening to hardcore? Do you remember what first got you hooked?

LR: I began listening to hardcore in 2016 and I started out listening to mostly Every Time I Die. I didn't get super hooked on the genre until the first time I listened to the album “Laugh Tracks” by Knocked Loose. That record is what really got me into hardcore and helped me discover more bands.

JM: What is it about hardcore that made you love it and want to be a part of it? Do you still feel that way about the music and the community now?

LR: I attended my first hardcore show at the Waiting Room in Buffalo to see Every Time I Die play one of their Christmas shows. This was my first experience with hardcore and I began to listen to more bands afterward. 

I didn't fall in love with the scene until 2019 when I went to see Have Heart play one of their reunion shows outside at the Worcester Palladium. It was so cool to see so many people come together for one band and I was able to discover so many cool bands that day! 

I've grown to love the hardcore community even more now, especially with how well-received SPACED's first demo has been.

JM: How did you get to be involved in hardcore, particularly joining SPACED?

LR: Our guitarist Donny was also my tattoo artist and every time I would get tattooed by him we would end up talking about music. After the Have Heart show, I was getting tattooed by him and told him about how I wanted to get more involved with Buffalo hardcore but wasn't really sure where to start.

He mentioned that I should start a band, to which I said I didn't think I had what it took to be in a band since I don't play an instrument. At my next appointment with him, we started to tiptoe around the idea of starting a band together and getting our friends involved too. Next thing you know, he and the other guys in the band were laying down instrumentals and we were writing lyrics for the demo!

JM: Do you think that the genre of hardcore as a whole could or should have more representation for women and gender-diverse people? Is there anything you think could make the genre a better place for you or for others?

LR: Absolutely! I've met some really welcoming people in the hardcore scene, but there are unfortunately a lot of people still who don't want to make it more inclusive. One of the main reasons SPACED became a thing was to get more representation and diversity in hardcore. 

I try my best to discover bands with people of color and non-men in them because those bands need as much hype as possible. It's hard being a non-white male trying to put yourself out there and making a band because it's so intimidating. 

I think if we encouraged inclusivity and welcomed more people into the scene it would help immensely.

JM: What helps you feel welcomed as a woman/gender-diverse person in the world of hardcore? 

LR: I'm lucky enough to be surrounded by people who encourage making the scene more diverse. The guys in the band are so supportive of me and want more non-men and POC to be welcomed into the scene as much as possible. 

Like I said before, it's scary putting yourself out there like I did when joining SPACED. This is my first band and I have no prior experience, but when we went into the studio for the first time and I got into the vocal booth, the guys did nothing but praise me and hype me up to make sure I was as confident as possible! I'm so thankful to be in a band with guys who I can trust; all it takes is for more men to be like this to help make the scene more inclusive.

JM: What would you say to a young girl/gender-diverse person who wants to get more involved in hardcore but might feel intimidated or nervous?

LR: I would, first of all, give them my number and tell them if there was any hardcore show they wanted to go to, but were too scared to go to alone that they could always ask me to come with them! Going to shows can be scary, especially if it's in a scene you aren't familiar with! 

Making friends who want to go to those shows with you is the best thing you can do for yourself because it can ensure that you will have a good time. Who knows, maybe your friend who doesn't listen to hardcore would fall in love with it if you brought them to a show!

JM: A lot of times I feel as if women/gender-diverse people in hardcore are seen as just that, a non-man in the genre, and nothing else. What else are you passionate about?

LR: I went back to school during the pandemic to get my degree in English education so I can become a high school English teacher. I've really grown passionate about education and making it better for students in the future. 

As far as hobbies, I actually really love anime and K-pop! When it comes to anime I love collecting manga and have been working on getting some cosplays together for when I feel safe enough to go to conventions again. 

As for K-pop, that was something I really dove into at the beginning of the COVID-19 quarantine. I love discovering new groups and collecting albums. I also make and sell jewelry when I have free time.

JM: Congrats on the release of the demo with SPACED! What has the response been like so far? What's your personal favorite song on the demo, and why? What was playing your first show like? Feel free to include anything else about the band here, I really dig the tracks and am excited to see what's next for y'all!

LR: Thank you!! The response has honestly been kind of overwhelming, but so cool. This is my first band so having this many people be interested in something I'm doing is such a crazy feeling. 

My favorite song on the demo is “THINK I AM.” I love the message that it has about how you shouldn't have to listen to what people say or tell you to do. I'm big on being my most genuine version of myself because what's the use in hiding who you really are? 

Our first show was so much fun. We played in this weird abandoned parking lot and I saw a lot of my friends who aren't even that into hardcore come out to support the band. Honestly, I can't remember much of the set, but I do remember how much fun I was having up in front of everyone!

JM: Thank you so much again for chatting with me! What's next for you and the band? Is there anything else you want to say?

LR: Right now we're working on some new songs and plan on getting back into the studio as soon as possible. We have a few shows coming up; we're playing with Gag in Cleveland on October 30th and with DARE and Life's Question in Wilkes Barre on November 8th! We're looking forward to getting some new tunes out and being able to travel and play to as many people as we can!

Once again, huge thanks to Lexi and to SPACED for doing this interview and for their amazing music and uplifting presence. You can find them on Instagram @SPACED_HC and Twitter @SPACEDHC. Keep your eyes peeled for the next interview in this series, coming soon!

#jennifer moglia

[girlsbtrs]

Women in Hardcore Part 1: Nicole Servetnik

Written by Jennifer Moglia. Graphic by Moira Ashley. 

This is the first installment of brand new series here on Girls Behind The Rock Show, consisting of interviews with women and gender-diverse people in the world of hardcore and punk music. We’re hoping that these conversations will shine a spotlight on some of the most inspirational, powerful non-male people in the genre today, and show our readers that music has no gender, regardless of the genre - if you want to be involved in hardcore, you can be involved in hardcore, and your gender identity should never stop you from doing so.

Our first part of this series is an interview with Nicole Servetnik. She’s the bassist of Connecticut’s Broken Vow, one of my favorite bands in hardcore right now.

They’re only about a year out from their first release, but it already feels unfair to call them “new” or “up-and-coming” - they’re just that good. However, there is so much more to Nicole than just being “the girl in the band.”

She’s working towards getting her Ph.D., she loves music and her friends, and she has high hopes for diversity in the genre. We talked about all of this and more in the interview below!

Jennifer Moglia: Could you introduce yourself to our readers?

Nicole Servetnik: Hi!! My name is Nicole Servetnik, I’m 19, and my pronouns are she/her/hers.

I grew up in and currently live in Westfield, Massachusetts but I also live at school at the University of Connecticut where I’m currently studying to get my Ph.D. in pharmacy. I play bass in the Connecticut hardcore band Broken Vow.

JM: How did you start listening to hardcore? Do you remember what first got you hooked?

NS: I got into hardcore in a very weird way! I was raised to believe that screaming in music is bad and I shouldn’t listen to it since it wasn’t a “girly” thing.

My sister was the first one to reveal the genre to me, back when I was probably 10 years old and she was 18. I remember telling her that I was scared of the music (laughs) but as I grew up I started falling into this pattern of loving punk and alternative music and in 2018 I was finally able to go to my first hardcore show with Counterparts and Emmure. After that show, I dug deeper, found different bands I enjoyed in the genre, and ever since then, my love for it has grown tremendously.

JM: What is it about hardcore that made you love it and want to be a part of it? Do you still feel that way about the music and the community now?

NS: Not only are the breakdowns, riffs, and lyrics a reason I love hardcore, but I also love the people I have met along the way. Huge shoutout to my friend Danny, who was one of the first people who exposed me to hardcore and showed me what I needed to know.

I do still feel that way today, especially with now being in a hardcore band, the friendships I’ve created throughout the experience are the best friendships I have ever made. Things change and people change, but the common interest of hardcore lives on forever.

JM: How did you get to be involved in hardcore, specifically joining Broken Vow?

NS: I met Tommy Harte, our lead singer, over the internet actually, leading to knowing we were interested in the same music and live pretty damn close to each other. The first time I met him in real life was at the Magnitude show in CT in March 2020, right before the pandemic.

He had asked me to fill in on bass for a previous band he was in but the show unfortunately was canceled. A few weeks after that, I got a message from him asking if I wanted to play bass for this new project he was starting, and in the blink of an eye, we were practicing, writing music, recording, and having so much fun doing so.

JM: Do you think that the genre of hardcore as a whole could or should have more representation for women and gender-diverse people? Is there anything you think could make the genre a better place for you or for others?

NS: I believe that hardcore should keep expanding, that hardcore should be inclusive to anyone that is willing to participate no matter who they are. We live with so much hate in the world right now and the scene needs to do its part in including more women and gender-diverse people.

The genre should be more diverse and I feel like it’s growing in that direction but it just needs participation. Whoever you are reading this, if you want to start a band, join a band, make music whatever, DO IT! No one is going to stop you!

JM: What helps you feel welcomed as a woman/gender-diverse person in the world of hardcore?

NS: I felt immediately welcomed when I practiced with Broken Vow for the first time. It was like a family I didn’t know I needed.

It just feels great to be treated like someone who’s important and someone whose contribution is as important as anyone else’s. Recently I went to my first show back since the pandemic - shoutout to Anxious, G.I Bill, and Wreckage - and I got to meet all of these amazing people that I’ve only talked to online and they accepted me with open arms. Just being able to talk to everyone in the scene with no hesitation is what makes me feel welcomed.

JM: What would you say to a young girl/gender-diverse person who wants to get more involved in hardcore but might feel intimidated or nervous?

NS: My advice mostly leads to this - who the fuck cares?? If you are committed and want to show the world what you can contribute to hardcore, it doesn’t matter what people think as long as you’re having fun and growing as a person. It might be a little bit intimidating since people may believe that the genre is overtaken with men, but once you find your place, anything’s possible.

JM: A lot of times I feel as if women/gender-diverse people in hardcore are seen as just that, a non-man in the genre, and nothing else. What else are you passionate about?

NS: I agree that sometimes I feel like just “a girl in the band” but it’s so much more than that. I’m passionate about learning and growing!

I know that sounds cheesy, but I’m living my life to learn new things whether it’s music-related or just something little in my everyday life. I’m passionate about spreading love and knowledge to those that need it and hopefully with this hardcore platform, I’ll be able to do that more and more!

JM: I know that you're going to UConn for pharmacy right now - how has that been going so far? What has it been like balancing that with the band and other aspects of your life?

NS: I just started this step in my education during the pandemic and it has definitely been tough. I won’t lie and say it hasn’t been difficult balancing everything in my life because it honestly has!

I’ve grown up to always prioritize things that others may think are important but life is so short, so I always think, “why can’t I do it all?” It takes more effort and more planning but it’s possible.

“Go with the flow” is my motto. I’m just living life one step at a time!

JM: Thank you so much for chatting with me! What's next for you and the band? Is there anything else you want to say?

NS: What’s next for me personally is continuing my education and continuing things with Broken Vow. So many things are happening soon which are very exciting and I cannot wait to share them all with the world.

Broken Vow just released our 2021 promo through Sunday Drive Records and New Morality Zine (shoutout to Jonathan and Nick from SDR and NMZ) on all platforms and there’s a cassette for sale through both SDR and NMZ as well. Later this year we are releasing an EP with those labels called “Sane Mind’s End” so keep an eye out for that!

You can follow the band on Instagram and Twitter, both @BrokenVowCTHC, and my music Instagram is @TurnYouBlue. Thank you for this opportunity and special thanks to you Jen for everything you’ve done for me and the band!

Once again, huge thanks to Nicole and to Broken Vow for doing this interview and for all the wonderful things they’re doing for hardcore as a genre and as a community. Be sure to support them and keep up with them using all the links above. Be on the lookout for the next installment of this interview series, coming soon!

#jennifer moglia

[girlsbtrs]

Keeping the Score: A Look into the Music of Film Part One

Written by Peyton Lawrence. Graphic by James N. Grey.

Girls Behind the Rock Show is a music-based organization, but it’d be ridiculous to claim that music exists solely in a vacuum- nothing does. Every single piece of information our brains take in is influenced by every other piece of information coming in at the same time. Ever notice how food just tastes blander when you’re congested? This phenomenon happens because our sense of smell is integral to how we taste things.

Our auditory and visual input are just as intertwined. Several studies have shown in recent years that the brain’s occipital lobe, the area responsible for vision, is activated when musicians listen to a song. It’s part of why album covers are such a point of contention- it’s a primer for what you can expect to hear on the album and the artist’s visualization of their music.

Since the advent of the motion picture, the history of music and film have been inextricably linked. It’s one of the most concise ways to experience audio and visuals together. Every sound is chosen and placed intentionally. You’re experiencing what the director wants you to see and what the sound designers and engineers want you to hear in real-time.

The first motion picture with a synchronized soundtrack was Alan Crosland’s Don Juan, released in 1926. Before that, pianos or, in the rare instance, an entire orchestra, would perform in the theatre alongside the screening. Don Juan was produced to show off Warner Brother’s newfangled device, the Vitaphone. It wasn’t until the second motion picture that utilized the Vitaphone and the first with recorded dialogue, 1927’s The Jazz Singer, came out that the world of film with sound took off.  Only a few years later, the Academy introduced the Best Original Score, and in 1935 it was first awarded to One Night of Love, directed by Victor Schertzinger.

In this article, we’re going to take a look at a film’s score as opposed to a tie-in song. What does that mean? The term soundtrack encompasses both of these, but a film’s score is the (mostly) instrumental tracks that were composed specifically for that film, called cues. These cues are the music playing behind almost every scene in a film. A tie-in song has two sub-categories. There are existing songs that are used in the context of a film and there are songs composed specifically for a film, much like a score, but they follow the more traditional two to four-minute verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus format. A good illustration of the difference is in the 1997 film Titanic. The track “Rose” is part of the score, a lyricless orchestral piece with some gentle vocalizations layered on top. The song “My Heart Will Go On” uses identical musical phrases but is a second category tie-in song. Besides the fact that the song went on to become a major commercial success outside of the context of the film, it has more pop elements (that synth!) plus Céline Dion belting out the lyrics. (I would say sorry for getting it stuck in your head but I’m not. It’s stuck in mine too.)

Our brains are hardwired to associate different sounds- be it a sound effect, a chord, or even a singular note, to different emotions. Likewise, our brains associate different visuals with emotions. A good score finds that perfect sweet spot. The composer finds the emotion in the script and refines it, translates it into a melody that accentuates but doesn’t overwhelm the picture. A great score is a character in itself, communicating emotion, intention, and even continuity through a musical motif. (Think of the James Bond theme. As long as those four notes are played in sequence, they can be performed in any number of ways and still be instantly recognizable.) A scene’s mood can change drastically based on what’s playing behind it. The most somber content can become comedic if a lighthearted, goofy song is being played.

That being said, it’s important to recognize that much of the psychology of music as a whole is cultural. There are exceptions to this rule, but generally, in western music, we associate minor chords and dissonance with sadness, tension, stress, and so on. This is reversed in some East Asian cultures, such as Japan. I can only speak from my experience as a person raised in the United States and most familiar with western film scoring traditions, but with that disclaimer out of the way, let’s talk about why some iconic film scores work.

Starting off strong, let’s talk about Nino Rota’s score for The Godfather. I don’t want to talk about the main waltz, but instead the Love Theme. The theme is first heard when the character Michael Corleone is in hiding in Sicily. He’s strolling in the picturesque mountain village when he meets Apollonia, the beautiful woman who will eventually become his wife. The relationship meets a tragic end when Apollonia is killed by a car bomb meant for Michael. The score is perfectly reflective of the narrative. It is romantic and tragic simultaneously. It draws heavily from Italian folk music, utilizing the mandolin and accordion. This is a very intentional choice made to mirror the setting of the sequence in which it is used. The vast majority of the film is set in New York, but this one tragic portion of the story takes place in Italy. The musical motif established in the Love Theme is used again throughout the cues in this portion of the film. It is reused in the song “Apollonia” with much less orchestration and more exaggerated tremolo on the mandolin in order to emphasize the intimacy of the scene. The motif is heard one last time in the score’s last piece, The Godfather Finale. It’s a final farewell to Apollonia and a nod to how her character was so influential to the man Michael would grow and change into by the end of the film.

Next, let’s talk about more accordion. No seriously. Yann Tiersen expertly uses the instrument throughout the entire score of the 2001 film Amélie. This accomplishes two main things. First, like The Godfather, it gives us a sense of place. The film is set almost exclusively in Paris, and the score feels like a Parisian score. It feels like a score you could hear being played by a performer on the corner as you sip a cafe au lait. This sense of localization pulls us into the movie, it sells us the “hey this is France!” story. Second, I want you to really think about how often you hear accordion in a film score. Not often, right? Amélie was released the same year as Pearl Harbor and The Mummy Returns, two major blockbusters composed by Hans Zimmer and Alan Silvestri respectively. These are both films with sweeping, grand, orchestral scores. Amélie… isn’t. We get plucky piano, accordion, and on occasion some strings. It’s not supposed to impress us the way the others are. These songs aren’t accompanying massive naval battles or supernatural fight scenes. The film is quirky, about a quirky girl and her life. The score reflects that. Not many scores use accordion as this one does, but not many scores follow such a strange, unconventional title character. It works.

Finally, we’re going to get a little old-school and a lot dissonant. The piece behind the famous shower scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho is aptly named “The Murder”. Bet you can hear those piercing strings right now. Even if you’ve never seen the film, the song has a very visceral reaction associated and has helped to cement the scene in the canon of popular culture. Initially, Hitchcock didn’t want any music over the scene, but composer Bernard Hermann was able to convince him otherwise, much to the benefit of film and music history as a whole. What makes this so effective though? It’s a combination of many different elements, but most notably the dissonance and the pacing. Dissonance in music is when a chord is unharmonious or unresolved. Listen to those chords. They really aren’t pleasing, at all. Our brains want chords to resolve, so when a composer doesn’t let them, they’re intentionally making us uncomfortable and unsettling us. This is extremely effective in horror, where the whole point is for us to be unsettled and on the edges of our seats. This cue is perfect for this scene specifically though because of the way the pacing of the shrieking strings matches the picture. It sounds almost like an alarm, starting the second the curtain is pulled back like it’s trying to tell Marion, the woman who’s murdered, there’s danger before she even turns to see what’s behind her.

There’s no way to neatly summarize the history of film scores or to talk about every score that’s influenced the practice. Think of this as a primer, a sample into this vast and infinitely complex world. Even still, there are some seriously incredible contemporary scores across genres that I haven’t even touched on. (On top of that, the way scores are mixed with foley and dialogue and so forth in order to create the audio landscape of a film is a whole ‘nother world.) I encourage you to go forth and listen very closely to your favorite movies. Really examine the emotions it’s making you feel and how it heightens the scene. You may just be surprised by what you hear. I’ll see you again in a couple of weeks and we’ll chat about those tie-ins I mentioned earlier.

[girlsbtrs]

Patriarchy and Pop Punk

Written by Theresa Cambe. Graphic by James N Grey

Yes, misogyny exists in almost every genre of music. Rap and country are usually at the forefront of this conversation, however, today we’re going to dive into the misogyny in pop punk. Lets face it, the misogyny is just covered up with layers of nice-guy, sad boy introspection but deserves the criticism just like everyone else. Just because a man holding a guitar gets vulnerable for a second, it doesn’t mean he is exempt from possessing misogynistic tendencies.

Despite the sexism built into this genre, I am more than guilty of partaking in my fair share of pop punk music. I would try to be at every State Champs, Neck Deep, Real Friends, The Story So Far, and every band of the sorts in between, concerts in Southern California between the ages of 14-16. I finger pointed and yelled those angsty lyrics right back at the bands while crowd surfing towards the stage in whatever sweaty venue in LA they happened to be playing at the time. I bought the merch, I hung their posters up in my room, I reblogged their concert pictures on Tumblr, I was about it. And trust me, “No Good” by Knuckle Puck could come on shuffle again and have me passionately screaming the lyrics while driving alone in my car around my god forsaken hometown (but I love my hometown, contrary to the popular sentiment). However now, I am more conscious of its problems.

I think this is the case for many other non-male enjoyers of this music when they also recognize its misogyny. Of course, there is nothing wrong with enjoying pop punk nor do I think enjoying this music makes you a bad person or inherently anti-feminist. A good portion of the demographic for these bands are women. With this large and important part of the fan base, we should start considering the safety of the environments and attitudes they create.

The attitude of misogyny and objectification is built into the foundation of pop punk. It is apparent in whichever “wave” of pop punk you want to point to. Early Blink 182 and All Time Low music videos had women in them to be silent sexual objects parading around the rock star band. There’s Weezer’s infamous sexist, nerd-rock anthems. “Thank God for Girls” sings “Called upon to employ your testosterone / In a battle for supremacy and access to females glued to the TV”. In a Genius lyric annotation of the song, lead singer of the band, Rivers Cuomo himself wrote “I’m so jealous of the hooker-uppers. Seems like it’s so easy to get laid now. All these good looking athletic guys are getting so much free sex. It kills me. Such a bummer. Such a bummer. To be evaluated by women. To be graded. To be rated. Where do I stand? How big? How strong? How enduring? How energetic? How inventive? So sad that it comes to this. So sad. It IS a competition and I AM being compared”. It is really quite ironic that Cuomo writes this but in the same breath has lyrics “The thing I finally found with these other girls in town / She got hot, and they did not” from the song “The Girl Got Hot” and also “You come like a dog when I ring your bell / I got the money and I got the fame / You got the hots to ride on my plane” from the song “The Greatest Man That Ever Lived”. Then there’s also every song on the album Pinkerton that we don’t have time to get into. Even if this self-deprecating behavior is no surprise from Cuomo, it’s concerning and rooted in some serious hate. If you want to argue that it's all satire, they’re still weird thoughts to have.

I can go on about these recurring lyrical themes. For example, there is The Story So Far’s song “Roam” with the lyrics “I know where you’ve been, you’re ruining men, never again will I let someone in”. And the classic from “Mt Diablo” that sings “Do you look at yourself straight in the eyes and think about who you let between your thighs?”. Then there’s FIDLAR’s song “Whore” which as we can expect from the title, says “Why did you go betray me? / You’re such a whore”. Then there’s the mess of “Me vs. Maradona vs. Elvis'' by the band Brand New, which writes “I got desperate desires and unadmirable plans / My tongue will taste of gin and malicious intent / Bring you back to the bar / Get you out of the cold / My sober straight face gets you out of your clothes.” Look into any corner of pop punk and you’ll find these questionable attitudes, but I digress.

These men play the nice guys and aim at making you believe he is the protagonist in every situation. The commonality between all these artists is that they obsess and fantasize over a girl then turn completely sour once rejects them or leaves a relationship. They want a “cool girl” to listen to underground music and really comfort their sad, misunderstood selves but won’t allow them to make a decision outside of his own benefit. Because god forbid these women have their own thoughts and exercise their own actions! Their fantasy is essentially a manic pixie dream girl that doesn’t speak or act out against anything. These men beg to be at the center, and get aggressive when they aren’t.

This is not to be confused with writing a sad song after you got broken up with or hurt by someone in a relationship. This is also not to say that all women are exempt from having toxic behaviors or from being written about. The guise of the patriarchy also harms those it seeks to benefit and therefore enforces rules of masculinity that restricts men from expressing their frustrations and emotions. I believe that writing music about unrequited love or difficult feelings is a healthy way to combat these roles. However, there is a major difference between processing rejection and hating women for rejecting you, which is an area many of these men seem to blur together.

I still have love for these bands and this genre. I can still go to their shows and have the time of my life, easily. But it wasn’t until I got a little older and more realized with my femininity did I revisit these songs and wake up to the fact that it might have not always been in my favor . I was probably too young to notice or care and was distracted by the catchy, yelly tone and how fun it was to jump around to that I never really sat with what some of the lyrics really meant. It was a major factor in my own internalized misogyny back when I was in the throes of it all. I didn’t want to be like those awful girls that these pop punk dudes kept singing about. They were always described in such a terrible way, that all they do is betray and backstab people. They wanted a “cool girl” to understand them and not be like them. So I rejected femininity and disliked other girls as if I’m in this sort of competition for the sad band dude’s attention. I was idolizing these men whose music mainly centered around their disdain for the women they had experiences with so much that it stuck in my brain that I shouldn’t be like them, that I should be appeasing these people I look up to. But I’ve grown to realize that I was only hearing one side of the story. It was a straight white man’s voice constantly, no one else. This one sided narrative created a false perception of reality, one rooted in a sad boy victim complex, that women are the enemy that shouldn’t be trusted because they couldn’t fit the weird male fantasy these dudes possess. Rarely are women represented in this music except through the lens of a man, which as we saw is almost always disdainful or as a character rather than a fully realized and autonomous person. Women are portrayed as commodities to obtain. It alters our perception of reality.

But with most things you love, you want to see them get better. This music has a fond place in my heart and signifies a really fun time in my life where I found my love for music and concerts. But the genre and the spaces it creates has its own set of problems that I want to see improve.

We have to realize that music has a greater impact on culture. The attitudes that create the genre of pop punk affects the audience that consumes it. The one-sided narrative they build implants harmful ideas about relationships and dynamics into their young fans, as it did to me. Regardless if you want to say lyrics are just lyrics and are meant not to be taken so seriously, artists have so much influence on their fans. They are perpetuating the nice guy narrative that men are owed something from women. And sometimes we unfortunately see this point of view reflected in these band member’s actions. The accusations against them for sexual assault, grooming, and manipulation of young girls runs rampant in these spaces and remains to do so. They abuse their positions of power and influence. Using self-pity in songs does not excuse the shitty things you do.

#Theresa Cambe

[girlsbtrs]

Weird People Have Cool Role Models

Article by Ella Jarrard. Graphic by Allison Thompson.

As a highly unphotogenic person, I can honestly say that this is the first time I wish I could input a photo into my writing. I say this because I’d like all of you wonderful readers to truly grasp the picture I am about to paint for you. 

I'll start this way. I was not a cool kid. I was four foot three til I was fourteen. Because of that, I rode with and carried a booster seat for the car until fourteen as well. I was a little shy, terminally unathletic, and, as a wonderful cherry on top- pretended I was a horse till 8th grade. Jumping over bus benches, hedges, and cantering (instead of running) was my preferred method of transportation- everywhere. I’d like to add that I in no way am ashamed of any of this- I miss my booster, I still get carsick without it, and I feel running consistently proves less effective than a good, brisk canter. 

While this un-coolness seemed to be part of my blood, it wasn’t. My parents are cool- and I mean genuinely cool. My dad was a punk in the seventies and eighties, worked at the Minnesotan equivalent of CBGBs, seeing the starter shows of punk bands we now see on polyester shirts at department stores. He came from a bloodline of cool too- his Irish Catholic parents dabbled in being super-fans of the B52s, Janis Joplin, and early Gipsy Kings- his siblings followed as well. My mom’s first album was an ELO record, which served as a poppy base for a life filled with conflicting tastes- Led Zeppelin, New Order, Stevie Wonder. On the nights I came in early from pretending I had just won the Kentucky Derby, my parents would show me  a plethora of grainy concert videos of forgotten bands from the 80s, or sit me down at dinner for a lecture on how Ice Cube defined the diss track. 

It was on one of these nights that I found my first cool rolemodel. Sweaty from explaining to my dachshund how what she was doing was not, in fact, a proper horse trot, I came inside to find a movie playing- it was called The Punk Singer. There on the screen was Kathleen Hanna, frontwoman of Bikini Kill and Le Tigre, and a leading voice of the Riot Grrrl movement of the 90s. I was instantly enthralled. 

It shows Hanna explaining her vision, her immense adoration for Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon, her love of clothespin jewelry, and her dauntless reactions to male violence while onstage. Although Hanna has that kind of effortless, messy beauty one tries to repeatedly replicate, her beauty wasn’t what struck me so deeply- it was her unwillingness to succumb to unrelenting disrespect and violent threats. She spoke of dodging beer cans thrown by pseudo punks who were angry about women infiltrating the Seattle scene, and, expectedly, of how those men proved to be the least punk punk fans ever made. 

In The Punk Singer, her natural intelligence oozes out of her- it seems almost blasphemous to think that anyone- whether it be the press, fellow musicians, pseudo punk fans- could doubt or disrespect her, but they did, and constantly. The Riot Grrrl movement and Bikini Kill were both horribly disrespected by publications. They consistently implied Bikini Kill and other Riot Grrrl bands were young, untalented women parading around in their underwear instead of being prolific musicians who tried to make room for women in the physical and metaphorical punk mosh pit. 

My starter level reverence for Kathleen Hanna grew astronomically within the hour and twenty two minute documentary. As I sat agape my thoughts of how to distress every Gap t-shirt in my closet in time for 7th grade tomorrow swirled rapidly. Soon the sparkly slogans like “Sassy and Classy” disappeared, replaced by a blunt tip sharpie which wrote “Anarchy in the U.K”. Gone was Monte Carlo from my Netflix favorites, it was now “Who Killed Nancy?”

There comes a time in many teenagers' lives where the wardrobe turns darker, the eyeliner gets thicker and deeper into the waterline, and the presence of self ripped black tights becomes constant. Despite it being possibly embarrassing, or horribly shameful to some parents, this time is so vitally important, especially to women. I say this backed solely by my own profound experience with a badass female role model. It was vital to me. 

Having an authentic, self-founded role model who finds us naturally, through pathways of shared interest- leads to further activation of our goals, aspirations and arguably, personal fulfillment. The term “self founded” is particularly vital in this role model concept. The narrowcasting of hyper feminine, largely stereotypical TV shows, movies and books where the main character is an overused archetype meant to define the female psyche, is damaging and polarizing to young women and gender diverse people everywhere. When one doesn’t fit into this stereotype, the stereotype often being thin, white, and secretly immensely privileged, one’s sense of self instantly becomes uncertain. Being prescribed a role model crafted by (most likely) all white men sitting in a writers room at Disney channel isn't what young women and gender diverse people need- they need to find someone who identifies with them deeply, who shows what they could become, someone who fulfills our future ambition just by being their cool, untamed selves. 

Finding Kathleen Hanna was vital to me and my future. I no longer felt shy, no longer was embarrassed by my kind of dorky ‘horse’ habit, and felt much more inclined to express myself with music, art, and interests that weren’t widely shared among my peers. I loved hearing a young woman like Hanna be loud, and instantly wanted to start announcing myself like Bikini Kill did in the beginning of their songs.  I could combine interests like Hanna did with her passion in third wave feminism and her love with punk, and be comfortable knowing all of my interests were valid and correctly placed- horseback riding at stuffy equestrian centers was now accompanied by a perpetual soundtrack of the Sex Pistols, The Clash (much to my dad’s delight) and The Damned. 

Looking back on my childhood now is like watching slides of different phases pass quickly, old interests vanished and were replaced by my big new thing. I feel proud of that, and as much as I am deeply embarrassed of some parts- like when I made my friends call me Ellore instead of Ella during my punk stage- a time they never have let me forget- I feel like each phase and role model is still deeply embedded in my soul. Kathleen Hanna made me who I am- I’d be nowhere as comfortable with myself and with my strong, unrelenting opinions without her and her strength in the RiotGrrrl movement. I never saw myself within the role models prescribed to me as a young girl, and it made me feel so deeply confused as to whether I was doing the whole preteen girl thing right. 

I saw myself in Kathleen Hanna. I saw in her what I wanted to be, I saw in her what I wanted to say and fight for, and through that- I began to see myself.

#ella jarrard

[girlsbtrs]

Sinner Get Ready Album Review

Written by Peyton Lawrence. Graphic by Moira Ashley.  

Horror, love, and God all coexist in the decaying kingdoms of rolling fields and remote settlements of Appalachia. 

It’s been two years since Kristin Hayter released her album, CALIGULA, under the name Lingua Ignota. The rage-filled tracks used religious imagery and musical motifs such as ambient organ and choral tracks paired with piercing screams to examine the long term pain and trauma of abuse, betrayal, promise, mercy, and vengeance. God is “almost always interchangeable with the abuser or the lover.” The record feels claustrophobic and complex. The brutal anger in her music refuses to let itself be dampened or silenced by the expectation of an “appropriate” or “polite” response, and the end result is tremendous. We’re viewing divine rage sans the lens of propriety. 

Hayter’s music is characterized by haunting, echoing vocals and up until now, influences from noise and extreme metal. (It is important to note, however, that these are just influences, and Lingua Ignota really does transcend genre.) Many fans expected a continuation of the sound heard in CALIGULA, but with the release of the new album, the music has taken a more raw, intimate tone. It relies heavily on her powerful voice, piano tracks, traditional folk instruments, and carefully placed moments of disquieting silence. An audio clip professes in the first song, “Everything has a rhythm and a beat and the silence is one of the most soothing one.”

Despite the new album’s departure in sound, it still ties back into Lingua’s previous works. In fact, the album title, SINNER GET READY, comes directly from the lyrics of her 2018 song “All Bitches Die.” The artist stated “I wanted the listener to pay attention to the way the lyrics from these two worlds were interacting with each other, and what that meant.” She has also said that her three albums can be viewed as part of a trilogy, they are “all building on the same world, approaching different emotions using different means but still all in the same language.”

The album is filled with nuance, at first seeming like a tale of rural religious fanaticism and submission to an all-powerful, vengeful God. Upon closer listening, it reveals itself to be much less black and white and much more personal. Hayter was “was living the record as it happened,” and each song reflects the emotional state that she was experiencing as she wrote it. The album starts with declarations of power and calls for violence before winding through a fruitless search for God and culminating in a quiet acceptance of loneliness, all set against the backdrop of rural Pennsylvania. 

The album begins with “THE ORDER OF SPIRITUAL VIRGINS,” a track that sets the tone for the rest of the album, both thematically and musically. We hear the first choir-like layered vocals, dissonance, and most importantly, we hear the first references to eternal devotion, relentlessness, and the seed is planted for the fear associated with silence and solitude. The song is a tie to CALIGULA, bridging the gap between the electronic synths and the subverted traditional instruments, preparing the audience for what’s to follow.

Listening to “I WHO BEND THE TALL GRASSES” feels like listening to an enraged preacher leading a congregation as they plead with God for retribution. It is despairingly brutal and feels like a call home to the rage of “All Bitches Die” and CALIGULA, albeit in a different way. This rage feels like it’s bubbling beneath the surface, masked behind attempts of pacifying the higher power being addressed. The rage bares itself in both the words and the way they are sung in the lines, “I don't give a fuck, Just kill him, You have to, I'm not asking.” (Side note: the first time I heard the aforementioned lines, the impact was so physical that I actually had to go lay down for a while.) We also first encounter the symbol of fire in the lyric, “fiery arrows studded with stars,” a symbol that reappears time and again throughout the album. 

“PENNSYLVANIA FURNACE” references the Pennsylvania Dutch folktale of an ironworker who threw his dogs into a furnace in a fit of rage, only for them to return and drag him to hell. The artist released a statement on her instagram saying the song, “is about loneliness, absence, and the inevitability of God’s judgment.” The legend embodies the rural Pennsylvania landscape that inspired the album’s creation. Hayter moved to the area due to a relationship, and became transfixed with the isolation and rejection of modernity that many religious sects there prescribed to. Fire is juxtaposed as a cleansing, formative, and destructive force, and in the entirely self-produced music video, Hayter uses red smoke to represent both this “alchemizing force,” and the blood of Jesus, explored as an all-powerful agent of absolution in the track “PERPETUAL FLAME OF CENTRALIA.” 

“MAN IS LIKE A SPRING FLOWER” is desolate and hopeless. It compares the heart of man to an open gulch, a gate of hell, a fiery pit, and a burning barn upended. The music is hauntingly complex, with layers of banjo, mourning vocals, and building rhythms. It is the culmination of all of the previous tracks, a realization being made that can only mean one thing.

The final track of the record is a fitting conclusion to the journey taken. The song, “THE SOLITARY BRETHREN OF EPHRATA,” has the cadence of a hymn. It is the quiet contrast to the beginning songs, despairingly asking for forgiveness for the brash anger shown before. It accepts the inevitable home that must be found in loneliness and solitude, and the despair that accompanies that acceptance.

This record is devastating. The entire Lingua Ignota discography feels like being stepped on squarely in the chest. It manages to be both transcendent and have a physical presence, and it cannot be listened to passively. Every single choice was made intentionally, and every single choice carries such an impact that cannot accurately be described. There’s nothing that exists quite like this, and I sincerely doubt there ever will be again.

#peyton lawrence

[girlsbtrs]

Growing Up One Step Behind Lorde

Written By Lila Danielsen Wong. Graphic by Paula Nicole. 

It’s late July of 2015. It’s a little past two a.m. and I’m in the basement of my parents house. My parents left me home alone for a night, so I did what any newly 16-year-old would do; I got a bottle of cheap vodka from someone’s older brother and threw my very first small party. Two of my closest friends are sleeping inches away. Out of my cheap drugstore headphones come a slow synth build, sounding distant and underwater. It erupts into a pulse, just too fast to be a heartbeat. Lorde’s “Ribs” pushes on in all its teenage glory. “Mom and Dad let me stay home,” she tells me before confiding “it drives you crazy getting old.” In the next pre-chorus this morphs into the more tender, “I’ve never felt more alone, it feels so scary getting old.” 

Before a live performance of “Ribs” in 2014, barely 18-year-old Lorde tells the audience that she wrote this song about a big party she had when her parents left town when she was 16. She was with her best friend afterwards at 4 a.m. unsuccessfully trying to go to sleep. He asked her what was wrong, and she said, regarding the party, “There’s something really crazy about throwing a party like this and doing something this huge. It feels grown up, and it feels like a rite of passage, and that's cool. It's cool to do stuff for the first time, but it also really freaks me out because once you do something that feels grown up it's really hard to come back, and if you've only ever been a kid the thought of having to be an adult is really terrifying.”

Three years after Lorde had this conversation with her friend, I’m sitting in my own basement all the way across the world after my own party listening to that very song and letting every word vibrate through my entire self. It feels so scary getting old, but hearing a girl from suburban New Zealand say exactly what I was thinking makes me feel a little bit less “so alone.”

In 2013, Ella Yelich O’Connor wrote an EP called The Love Club with local musician Joel Little and put it on Soundcloud under the name Lorde. To the surprise of both of them, it blew up. After collecting 60,000 downloads, UMG released it commercially and it managed to hit the charts in New Zealand and Australia. However, it was the release of “Royals” as a radio single that put Lorde on the international radar. 

“Royals” was penned as a sort of wry defiance to celebrity culture and a call out to it’s disconnect from the general public. She noticed that many popular musicians based their clout on trashing hotel rooms and diamond watches, and this was so removed from her and her friends, at a house party not knowing if they would get a ride home. “Royals” and The Love Club EP were followed by Lorde’s debut album, Pure Heroine, a collection of songs about “the feeling of being [her] age” and “the weird social issues that come with being a teenager.” 

After her global success made her visible worldwide, those who would be attracted to listen beyond “Royals” and become fans were fellow teens at fellow parties who also were “counting dollars on the train to the party”. 

In 2017, Lorde released Melodrama. If  Pure Heroine is about what it’s like to be a teenager, Melodrama captures life as a fledgling adult. Lorde has said that Melodrama is an album about a break up. She also has called it a concept album about a house party, telling The New York Times “it’s a record about being alone. The good parts and the bad parts.” 

This release coincided with my high school graduation. It was the soundtrack of my final months of childhood and what I listened to through the transition to the next phase of life. 

I spent my first year after high school in my hometown. I remember sitting in my house in September after all my friends had left for college and listening to “Liability”. My parents had left for a weekend trip and I was home alone, this time with no one to invite over. “Liability” is the second single from Melodrama. It’s a stripped piano ballad about the depths of insecurity, driving people away until you find yourself startlingly alone. “Every perfect summer’s eating me alive until you’re gone,” she sings; getting older comes stark changes in social circles and lifestyles, some of which can leave periods of time in which you find yourself startlingly alone.

I related to these feelings of disconnect and isolation and felt the song intimately just as I had felt “Ribs” two years earlier. Whereas the loneliness in “Ribs“ was the feeling of distance from everything you know when you’re on the cusp of adulthood; this loneliness comes from the other side of this cusp, when you look up and everything has changed. Melodrama ushered me into adulthood, and Lorde was like a voice from the future reassuring me that this was normal. If two years ahead of me Lorde the international star was sitting in a taxi feeling the exact same way I was feeling, then perhaps this happens to everyone and is just part of growing up. 

The following summer, after a party I helped someone else host, I put on “Ribs” before I went to bed and was surprised to find that it didn’t “vibrate through my entire self” anymore. That stage of coming of age had come and gone for me. 

The parties in Melodrama had grown up too; we’re no longer worried about getting caught by our parents. “Green Light,” the lead single, Lorde described as a song about the girl at the party who is a crying mess but doesn't seem to care. “Sober” asks about the morning after; “But what will we do when we’re sober?” “Liability” is looking in the mirror and not feeling so great about who you are and where you are. Growing up is reframed as self-discovery, mainly through the common young adult experience of a house party. 

Sometimes, this is where I lose her. 

In “Sober II” she cites the “glamour and the trauma,” and my life is nowhere near “glamourous”. The desperate feverishness of these more grown up parties of Melodrama are not what my life looked like. At the end of the day, I was reminded that she’s a pop star who already has her life financially set for her, and I was a college student with a limited social life and a whole lot of homework. 

I wonder if I am just ready for the next album to usher me into the next phase of my life, or if this is this where our paths diverge.

Although the reception of “Solar Power” has been relatively positive, some fans noticed that the new single was missing some of the, well, angst of her previous catalogue. This is especially striking because for a lot of us this year has been somewhere on the spectrum of angsty to agonizing. Her most recent release, “Stoned at the Nail Salon,” ponders the nature of being settled. This second release contextualized not only “Solar Power,” but also why some fans may be feeling a little disconnected from her newest era. I listen to Lorde talk about how she loves her quiet, stable life, with “the vine hangin' over the door, and the dog who comes when [she] calls” from the corner of my sublet of someone’s living room, which I rent as I apply for yet another job that isn’t really hiring because of covid or is going to be taken by one of the millions of 2020 and 2021 graduates who got a serious delay on their quest for the peace and stability Lorde is talking about. This is not to say that me or any of her other listeners won’t relate to her new music, especially as she sprinkles in lines such “as all the music you loved at sixteen, you'll grow out of”, but it’s still up in the air whether or not the fact that she is a wealthy pop singer from New Zealand will finally effect her ability to “vibrate souls” of her younger fan base like she once did. 

Lorde’s fanbase is just enough younger than her that, so far, once she has written an album about whatever phase of life she just went through, they are on the cusp of experiencing it. Teenagers are known for their “no one understands me” angst, and growing up one step behind Lorde reminded me how deeply universal the feelings and experiences that came with growing up are. Whether it’s coming from a teenage girl from suburban New Zealand (who must have been way cooler than me because her first party topped mine by about 100 more people) or a full blown star crying in a New York taxi, Lorde captured the most intimate moments of youth, offered them as a preview of the next age to her young fan base, and gently reassured them that these glimpses of fear and loneliness are perhaps what unites us as humans who are slowly but somehow rapidly getting older. However, how much longer will her experiences be this universal? As an artist whose fan base is largely built around her ability to connect and relate, will she be able to maintain this intimate connection as her life looks significantly different from most of the people she entertains? Perhaps the appeal of the Solar Power era will be more in the preview of the growing security of your mid-late twenties. Perhaps none of the differences of her lifestyle and her fan base will matter, because she will continue doing what she does best, stripping memories down to their universal truths, and feeding them back to a slightly younger generation with just a bit of dramatic lighting. 

Sources:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lorde

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=88oR5GjjZ6k

https://genius.com/Lorde-royals-lyrics

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/arts-and-entertainment/wp/2013/10/24/5-things-to-know-about-lorde/?utm_term=.1072aea0ec9c

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/04/12/magazine/the-return-of-lorde.html

https://www.thenation.com/article/lorde-grows-up/

#lila danielsen wong

[girlsbtrs]

The Evolution of Women’s Wrestling Through Music

Written by Jennifer Moglia. Graphic by James N Grey.

If it wasn’t already obvious, judging from the fact that I write for a publication called Girls Behind The Rock Show, music is one of the most important things in my life. It has helped me form lasting friendships and relationships, given me some of the best memories and experiences, and has pushed me to find what I truly want to do with my life. However, another one of my interests, one of my favorite things in the world, actually, is something I don’t talk about quite often - professional wrestling.

No, I don’t mean the actual activity of performing professional wrestling (my body would probably snap in half), I mean watching professional wrestling, or as it is often described, “sports entertainment.” The type of professional wrestling made popular by WWE, storytelling through combat sports, is something that I got hooked on instantly.

The reason why I love writing so much is that I love telling stories, whether those stories belong to me, someone I know, or even someone I have no connection with. At the end of the day, once a story is written, it belongs to the world, for them to fall in love with and interpret in their own way.

As a writer, I feel as if I watch wrestling differently from other fans, as pretentious as that may sound. Rather than being focused on the punches and kicks or even the costumes that each performer wears, my mind is constantly zeroed in on the story being told.

Who are these characters? Why are they fighting against each other? What do they have to prove, to themselves, to their opponent, or to the world? 

What will they gain if they win this match? What will they lose if they fall short? How will they move forward, regardless of the result? 

Will this feud wrap up before the Summerslam in August, or by Wrestlemania in April? All of these questions and more swirl around my head when watching Monday Night Raw, NXT, and Friday Night Smackdown every week.

There are a ton of things that a performer can do to answer these questions, from outfit choices, to the way they speak to the audience, to how they celebrate when they win or how they react when they lose. One of my favorite ways that wrestlers’ stories are told is through their theme music.

Wrestlers’ entrance songs are some of the most iconic things about them. Whether someone is a fan of WWE or not, they’re sure to recognize John Cena’s “My Time is Now”, Hulk Hogan’s “Real American”, Triple H’s “The Game”, or CM Punk’s “Cult of Personality.” 

Music has also played an important role in some of WWE’s most iconic feuds. The quintessential video package for Daniel Bryan’s “YES” Movement and feud with Triple H leading up to him finally winning the world championship at Wrestlemania 30 was set to “Monster” by Imagine Dragons.

This is widely considered one of, if not the best, video packages that WWE has ever produced, due to the detailed way it chronicles Bryan’s entire career, from being considered an underdog and “B+ player” to winning the company’s most coveted prize in the main event of their biggest event of the year. The song, with lyrics about a man who feels like an outsider and has become something bigger than himself, elevates the emotional weight and epic feeling of the video.

With all that being said, it’s time to note one crucial detail. Notice how all of those recognizable theme songs and moments were for male performers?

Women’s wrestling has always taken a backseat to men’s wrestling, for way longer than WWE would probably like to admit. Matches with “bra and panties” stipulations, storylines centered around men and romance, an in-ring “live sex celebration” broadcast on TV, a championship belt shaped like a pink butterfly, and matches consistently being cut from shows or clocking in at under 10 minutes, sometimes even under three minutes, sadly were the norm for a very long time.

However, in the 2010s, the women’s wrestling Evolution kicked into high gear, as the women of WWE demanded to be seen as more than just “Divas.” In February 2015, after a three-hour episode of Raw had only one women’s match that lasted just over 30 seconds, fans on Twitter begged the company to #GiveDivasAChance.

The hashtag trended on Twitter and was acknowledged by WWE legends like Mick Foley, before the company’s CEO Vince McMahon tweeted the hashtag with the message “We hear you. Keep watching.” 

The next few years saw the Women’s Wrestling Evolution taking center stage, with three of the four horsewomen of WWE (Sasha Banks, Bayley, Charlotte Flair, and Becky Lynch) debuting on the company’s main roster just a few months later in July 2015 after spending the last few years taking the NXT brand by storm. Over the course of the months that followed, women and their storylines were highlighted more than ever, setting up a red-hot feud for Wrestlemania 32 in April 2016.

What was so special about Wrestlemania 32? For the first time ever, the women would not be fighting for the Divas championship, battling to wear the glittery pink and purple butterfly belt. 

For the first time in history, the woman who won the match would be winning the WWE Women’s Championship, with a belt that looked just like the one that the men fight for. In addition, female performers would no longer be referred to as “Divas” - they would now be called Superstars, just like the men.

The next couple of years saw many more “first-ever” events for women’s wrestling. Between 2016 and 2018, fans would see the first-ever women’s Hell In A Cell match, Money in the Bank match, and Royal Rumble match, stipulations that had been staples for men for decades.

This all culminated in the first-ever all-women’s pay-per-view event, aptly titled Evolution, at the Nassau Coliseum in Long Island, New York. The night included matches that fans would look back on fondly for years to come, including wrestlers that had worked incredibly hard for years and undoubtedly deserved to have their special moments.

Women’s wrestling continued to rise in popularity in 2019, with two of the four horsewomen becoming the first-ever WWE Women’s Tag Team Champions (Sasha Banks and Bayley) and the other two (Charlotte Flair and Becky Lynch), along with Ronda Rousey, made up the first-ever Wrestlemania main event to only include women.

In the years since then, there have of course been many hardships for the women of WWE, but the fanbase is behind their favorite female Superstars now more than ever. And, of course, just like the men, women’s wrestlers have used their entrance music to help build their characters and put themselves on the radar of the WWE Universe.

The aforementioned four horsewomen are a great example of this. Sasha Banks’ “Sky’s the Limit” has lyrics about reaching for the stars and achieving the dream regardless of a dark past or people who may have doubted you. This theme perfectly fits her character of “the boss”, a gritty underdog from Boston, Massachusetts who ultimately made it to the top.

Bayley’s character is a bit more complex, going from an energetic, happy-go-lucky, child-friendly character to a villain who laughs at the pain of others and betrays her friends. Her theme songs have reflected this, as her first song “Turn It Up” includes lyrics about dancing with everyone around the world while her most recent theme “Deliverance” is instrumental, filled with intimidating choir-like background and wild guitar riffs.

Charlotte Flair has never struggled with living in the shadow of her father, legendary wrestler Ric Flair. Her physicality, confidence, and general dominance made her a force to be reckoned with regardless of any men she was related to.

Her theme, “Recognition”, is a remix of her father’s music, much like how the robes she wears for her entrances are a tribute to the costumes he once wore. She maintains that she loves her family and acknowledges where she came from but is still her own person.

The final horsewoman and possibly the most popular, Becky Lynch’s theme “Celtic Invasion” seemed to doom her from the start, the music poking fun at her Irish background and setting her up to be seen as this archetype forever. However, she was able to turn the tables and become an iconic character in modern media, not just in WWE, and fans sing her music louder than the speakers play it every single night.

While the four horsewomen are often considered the poster children for the WWE Women’s Evolution, there are countless women’s wrestlers who have used their theme songs to build on their characters. Asuka’s “The Future” boasts the line “I am the future”, bringing the character’s larger-than-life, confident personality to life.

The legendary Paige’s “Stars in the Night” reads more like a pop-rock heavy-hitter than a wrestling theme, which matches her studded gear, black hair, and dark makeup perfectly. Even new rising stars like Bianca Belair have capitalized on their entrance music, embodying the line “They see that I’m way better than before, I never needed you at all” from her theme “Watch Me Shine” every time she steps into the ring.

Seeing two of my favorite things in the world in wrestling and music come together like this, especially to empower women, is something that makes my heart so happy. If you don’t already watch wrestling, I hope that this has made you want to give it a try. If you don’t plan on it, at least give some of these incredible women’s theme songs a listen (playlist linked here).

#jennifer moglia

[girlsbtrs]

How Countercultures turn Politics into Culture

Written by Lila Danielsen Wong. Graphic by Paula Nicole

In 1969, an academic named Theodore Roszak published “The Making of a Counterculture” and coined the term “counterculture” in order to describe the ant-mainstream youth movements of the 60s. Counterculture’s are not inherently good or progressive, both the punks and the skinheads are countercultures. Counterculture just means, according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, a culture with values and mores that run counter to those of established society.

I’m not here to critique these movements. I am not writing this to critique how the Bohemian Romantics won respect for the arts because they mostly came from upper class backgrounds, and I’m not here to discuss the lack of intersectionality in the riot grrl movement. After starting this article I realized I had pitched a whole academic thesis, and maybe bit off a little more than I had intended to chew (why can’t I just pitch a listicle?). So, instead of focusing on the nitty gritty of what prompted these social movements and academically exploring their effects, I want to talk about the “culture” part of counterculture.

Nearly all countercultures are birthed around shared political ideas, but many seem to start within the culture itself, perhaps as a musical movement, a literary movement, a visual art movement, or even a fashion or aesthetic. As the movements expand, they come to encompass more of those aforementioned arts, and thus the politics that prompted the original movement become a culture. 

An early example of a western subculture is the Bohemian Romantics of Europe of the 19th century. In pre-revolutionary France, artists were lower class tradesmen. Artists were seen as dirty and immoral. However, in post-revolutionary France, disillusionment prompted young bourgeois men to reject the typical hierarchy and launch the bohemian artist lifestyle we are more familiar with today. A critical event on this timeline was Victor Hugo’s “Romantic Army,” or his mob of young men that he assembled to protest theatre censorship by absolutely trashing a theatre. The Bohemian lifestyle often manifested as wealthy young artists electing poverty to reject the traditions they were born into, and to spend their time creating art unrestricted. Bohemian fashion was more utilitarian and rustic than the upper-class styles.  The music of the Romantic era is categorized by its vigor and passion, pioneered by Beethoven himself. Beethoven challenged the strict and sometimes formulaic sonatas and symphonies of the past, favoring expression and inventiveness. Thus, prompted by the rejection of bourgeois values and principles, a culture was created: a lifestyle, an aesthetic, a literary movement, a new musical style. 

Nearly 150 years later and 5000 miles away from Bohemian France, the riot grrl movement was brewing in the Northwest United states. The riot grrl movement, created by a group of women working to combat sexism in the western Washington punk scene, was a counterculture within a counterculture. While the Romantic movement originated in literature, the punk movement, and then the riot grrl movement, was born as a musical movement. 

In 1970s Britain, the government was nearly bankrupt and giant cuts to social services were making life hard and creating a sense of alienation between the ruling class and the working class. British Punk emerged from this alienation. The youth used music to communicate their frustrations and anger. The rips and safety pins of punk fashion weren’t originally fashion, the punks just owned ragged clothing. The disillusionment with the political landscape and frustration with older generations resonated with youth all over the world, and it’s not hard to see why a Post-Vietnam and Watergate America would embrace the Punk movement with open arms. However, where British Punk was rooted in working class frustrations, American Punk took root with the middle-class suburban crowd, who, similar to the Bohemians, choose to reject the comfortable life they were born into. A notable difference that this created in the music was British punk had more pointed and explicit politically leftist lyrics, whereas this was not the focus of American punk lyrics. 

This is especially important to understand when talking about the riot grrl movement because they put the politics in American Punk lyrics. In the early 1990s, a group of women from the Olympia, Washington punk scene had a meeting to address the sexism they faced in Punk. They started writing lyrics centered around the sexism and misogyny they face in Punk and in life. They created their own literature through zines when they could not get coverage. They wore clothing specifically intended to look like what respectable women weren’t supposed to wear. Again, we watch a group of people turn their politics into a culture, as a way to spread and practice their ideologies. 

If you want a modern example of turning politics into culture via a counterculture, look no further than cottagecore (yes, really).

       As I said at the beginning, countercultures don’t need to be radically progresive to be countercultures. Cottagecore dwells on romanticized pastoral ideals of a fantastic yesteryear that never really existed. Cottagecore gained some traction on TikTok as an “aesthetic,” made up of imagery such as women in long button up dresses flouncing through fields and making picnics. Absent were the rise and grind aspirations of pre-pandemic America. Absent were any signs of the labor often associated with pastoral living. It is no surprise that a counterculture that emphasizes solitary retreat, rest, nature, and crafting blew up during the first year of the covid-19 pandemic during which many experienced forced solitary retreats, a change in work environments (not to mention the want to not work), and boredom that could only be remedied with solitary activities such as crafting and enjoying nature. The pandemic dismantled all of the systems of normal life as we knew it, and cottagecore invited us to grow from this space, perhaps embracing a simpler, slower life. This political message was so subtly delivered through our social media scrolling that if you weren’t paying attention, you might not have even realized cottagecore had political ideals at all. 

The rise of cottagecore is important in the conversation of how countercultures turn politics into culture because it showcases very blatantly how countercultures are not created, or at least do not catch on, without need and reason. Taylor Swift most likely did not create her surprise albums Folklore and Evermore (the unofficial cottagecore soundtrack) solely to cater to the cottagecore TikTok crowd, she created these albums as a form of personal escapism from how her own life was turned upside down by the pandemic, as a form of connection with her fans who were also experiencing the effects of the pandemic on their lives, and as art that represented certain feelings that came along with the pandemic. 

Her albums came about for the same reason that cottagecore really caught on in the first place: it was what some people felt that they needed due to the circumstances of the time. It was for this reason, I would argue, that Folklore won album of the year. It was indicative of the times. 

So, countercultures are born from a need. From this need comes politics, be it post revolution anti-bourgeois sentiments, mid-century British leftism, or a quiet call to slow down and reject hustle culture for a simple life. From politics comes art, and from art, culture. 

Let’s talk about this in terms of an up-and-coming counterculture, hyperpop. 

       Though Wikipedia currently defines hyperpop as a “micro genre,” hyperpop’s rise is looking anything but “micro.” Hyperpop is described in The Spectator as “catchy synthpop or bubblegum bass tune with elements of EDM and typically a focus on either queer culture or Internet futurism”. The term “self-referential lyrics” is often thrown around. In the least complicated words possible, hyperpop uses it’s sounds and lyrics to make a camped-up parody of popular music. Hyperpop pioneers that have some mainstream following include SOPHIE, Charli xcx, and Caroline Polechek. Hyperpop often uses carbonated synth sounds and vocal modulation, and many of the trailblazers are part of the LGBT community. 

What will hyper pop fashion and literature look like? What are hyper pop’s politics?

As for politics, there is something inherently political about queer artists carving out a space for themselves in pop music. Orange Magazine describes this as “pushing pop music to its limits and satirizing the gendered music industry. There’s an enjoyable sense of irony and juxtaposition.” 

       As for fashion, if we’re following the patterns we’ve established, hyperpop might bring gender non-conforming fashion that satirizes what’s been proclaimed normal. In terms of literature perhaps a Hyperpop literary movement will come from the controversial direction of Alt Lit, a community of minimalist writers that use the internet form and often reject intellectualized creative writing, create things that are weird for the sake of being weird, and use all caps and other purposeful spelling and grammar mistakes. A hyperpop literary movement might share the “self-referential” themes of hyperpop movement, while examining gender, sexuality, and personal identity in the internet age, seeing as the need to examine these themes in music indicates a need to examine these themes in other art forms. Maybe it will find creative ways to use internet platforms, as Alt Lit originators such as Steve Roggenbuck, a YouTube poet (well, a poet depending on who you ask), already have. 

What I find most exciting about hyperpop is that it has the potential to create a culture guided by music first, similar to the punks or to disco. Fashion and visual art and literature all inspired by the glittery new sounds created in music. Maybe hyperpop will stay a “microgenre,” but maybe we will get to witness the rise of something new. 

SOPHIE once said “I think all pop music should be about who can make the loudest, brightest thing. That, to me, is an interesting challenge, musically and artistically… just as valid as who can be the most raw emotionally,” and isn’t that a phenomenal thing to bring with us into a pent-up, fed-up, thoroughly exhausted, and newly vaccinated decade? 

 Sources

https://monoskop.org/images/b/b4/Roszak_Theodore_The_Making_of_a_Counter_Culture.pdf

https://www.sfgate.com/books/article/When-the-counterculture-counted-2835958.php

https://www.classicfm.com/discover-music/periods-genres/romantic/

https://www.mtholyoke.edu/courses/rschwart/hist255/bohem/tlaboheme.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Punk_subculture

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Riot_grrrl

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theodore_Roszak_(scholar)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bohemianism

https://www.nme.com/blogs/nme-blogs/brief-history-riot-grrrl-space-reclaiming-90s-punk-movement-2542166

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/05/03/arts/music/riot-grrrl-playlist.html

https://www.nypl.org/blog/2013/06/19/riot-grrrl-movement

https://www.nypl.org/blog/2013/06/19/riot-grrrl-movement

https://wildezine.com/3528/opinion/a-brief-history-of-punk/

file:///C:/Users/8lila/Downloads/history_initiates_vol_iv_april_2016_01_brooks_alison.pdf

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2021/03/hyperpop/617795/

https://www.billboard.com/articles/columns/pop/9595799/hyperpop-history-mainstream-crossover/

https://www.stuyspec.com/ae/hyperpop-the-defining-genre-of-the-digital-age

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyperpop

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0YRl4Kdnl2E&list=LL&index=4

https://theface.com/music/sophie-behind-the-boards-pop-scottish-producer

https://orangemag.co/orangeblog/2020/10/15/exploring-the-trans-roots-of-hyperpop

https://thebluenib.com/the-rise-and-fall-of-alt-lit-by-ada-wofford/

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/pc-music-are-for-real-a-g-cook-and-sophie-talk-twisted-pop-58119/

#lila danielsen wong

[girlsbtrs]

An Interview with PLEXXAGLASS

Written by Olivia Khiel. Graphic by James N Grey. 

Non-binary dark pop artist PLEXXAGLASS has found their identity and carved out their own space in the music world. With the pandemic putting things on hold, they took to TikTok, reaching a new community of queer fans to connect with through songs like “Liar” and “Lilith” (the latter produced by Linkin Park’s Mike Shinoda). GBTRS spoke with Plexxaglass about collaborating with Shinoda, their gender identity journey and what they hope listeners will connect with in their music.

Girls Behind the Rock Show: Now that you have more music out, how would you describe the evolution of your sound from when you started to where you are now?

Plexxaglass: I love that question. Because it's kind of funny- I feel like I made a little bit of a circle. I say that because the first two songs that I put out- "Lament en Route" and "Liar"- they're pretty similar sonically to the songs that I'm putting out. So much so that I'm actually going to include those songs on the LP that I'll be releasing, tentatively in October. There's an interesting little gap between those first two songs, and then I put out three other songs that was like my experimental phase. I'm always having fun, but I was trying some different things. I'm happy that I did that and there were two music videos that came out of that cycle or phase. Those songs are "Dead-Eyed Monsters" and "Ana Thema". But I feel like I found my way back to what I found initially, which is really interesting and fun to realize now.

GBTRS: What's the story behind your latest singles? What was it like collaborating with Mike Shinoda on "Lilith"?

Plexxaglass: "Lilith" was a half-finished song honestly- maybe even a quarter-finished song when I even got in touch with Mike. That happened so serendipitously-I had a listener who was also a regular viewer of my Twitch channel and a huge Linkin Park and Shinoda fan in general who hit me up on Instagram and was like, 'Mike Shinoda is producing independent artists' tracks, you should totally submit'. 

I submitted what I had of "Lilith" at the time, which was only a verse and the hook. It was a song that I loved and I knew that I wanted to be finished. I'm not one of those musicians that can just be like, 'alright, I'm gonna write a song today'. I really have to be called by the Muses or some shit. I have to be very inspired. But when Mike reached out to me, that was incentive and inspiration enough. I think when I was sitting down to finish it, I finished in maybe 20 minutes. That's just how it happens sometimes. When it's there, it's there and I finish songs really quickly. The process of working with Mike was amazing, and him and his team told me in the beginning that it was going to be pretty hands off on my part. I knew going in that I was gonna have to take it or leave it, which was sort of scary. I was like, oh shit, what if I don't like it? Am I gonna have to tell Mike Shinoda that I don't want to release the work that he did on my track? Oh my god, that's so scary. But no, of course, he's just so versatile. He really is a musician's musician, and he just gets music in general- doesn't matter what genre it is. I believe my song is the one that he finished the fastest, which is very flattering. It made me feel like it was just very ready. He didn't really have to do too much to it. It was a really, really cool experience that I just will cherish forever and ever and ever.

GBTRS: The song came out beautifully so it's great that things worked out so well.

Plexxaglass: Yeah! And the inspiration behind that one- I wrote it out of a fascination with the second season of The Handmaid's Tale. I found that dynamic so fascinating. I find women or femme-presenting people who [are] in a marginalized group who buys into very oppressive religious practices horrifying and fascinating at the same time. That was the inspiration behind writing that and really sitting with wondering if there's ever an awakening with those people. That was really the basis for that whole song.

GBTRS: You've gotten to collab with Mike Shinoda, but is there anyone else on your list that you'd love to be in the studio with in the future?

Plexxaglass: Oh god, yeah. So many. Right off the top of my head...I love Bishop Briggs, I love Dermot Kennedy, Bon Iver, Annie from St. Vincent, Florence Welch. Those are the big ones. I would die happy if I ever got to collaborate with any of them. That would be amazing.

GBTRS: What else do you find yourself drawing inspiration from these days?

Plexxaglass: Up until this point, it's been very autobiographical. It's been very much things that have happened in my life. I am trying to get away from that because I'm somebody who writes more somber music. I have some anthemic stuff that's more uplifting, but it is dark pop. I am at a point in my life where I'm generally- I'm mentally ill- but I'm generally a happy person. There's not a lot of dramatic tragedy going on in my life at 30 anymore. I'm trying to write a little more abstractly these days, but the themes that seem to always reoccur are very social justice motivated. Writing about mental illness and mental health are all themes that I tend to write about over and over again in different ways.

GBTRS: You've been very vocal and open about your gender identity and that's very important to so many people who are looking to find themselves in the people that they listen to. Do you have any advice for people who are struggling with that, or even advice for creatives who are in the industry who are working through that as well? 

Plexxaglass: So my coming out as non-binary is still honestly pretty new. I came out publicly about it a little over a year ago. It's something that I always knew, but growing up we just didn't have the language for it. I didn't really know why I felt so out of place and that it felt like such a struggle to present as feminine as possible so as not to feel like I was an outsider. I spent many years trying very hard to conform. 

I think a lot of it was literature that talked about neo-pronouns [that] was something that happened for me that was really an eye-opener. I knew at that point that there were people who used they/them pronouns [and] identified as non-binary, but for some reason, it didn't really click until a book called Black Sun. They have a character that uses neo-pronouns. It just really slapped me in the face. 

I'm really lucky. My friends and family have been almost apathetic about it- like 'that totally makes sense'. The other thing that really helped me was honestly TikTok as well. There is a large trans and non-binary community on TikTok. That was where I really found community, because it was scary to me, because I have conformed for so long. Being a woman was something that I made a very clear part of my identity for so long, that I was scared to lose that community.

I would just say to anyone who is afraid of that: anyone who doesn't still want to welcome you in their space isn't a person you want in your life anyway. I've been lucky that I haven't really had a lot of that. It was a struggle to let go of that. After I came out publicly, I was looking through my closet and I have all of these shirts that say Girl Club and Badass Woman [and] all of these because I was trying so hard. It was difficult to let go of that and come to terms with the fact that it really never was me- it was a mask that I was putting on to feel included and normal.

GBTRS: Do you have a song in your catalog that particularly resonates with you?

Plexxaglass: There's a song that's coming out in August. It's the last single off of this record [and] it's called "Tall". It is about being a trauma survivor- my trauma- and just a rallying cry for trauma survivors in general. I have put out little teasers of it on TikTok and it does seem like it's really resonating with people, which is very exciting. But out of the catalog of songs that I have out currently, the song "Liar"...it's kind of similar in tone. I wrote it after I was diagnosed Bipolar II. It's a song that's very clearly about mental health struggles and I think anyone who does struggle with depression really does relate to that song. That song was the one that really gifted me listeners from TikTok. So that's a song I'll always cherish for many, many reasons, but it has definitely brought me my little music family.

GBTRS: Now that you're starting to connect even more with your listeners, is there anything specific that you hope people take away from your music when they hear you for the first time?

Plexxaglass: I think, like most people, I wanted to create a little community, and I do feel like I'm finally getting to a point where I'm doing that with my music and connecting people and their experiences. 

GBTRS: Now that things are starting to move forward, what's coming up for you?

Plexxaglass: I want to get back to playing shows. I definitely want to pair a show with the release of the record, so I'm hoping I'm going to book some shows for the fall. Get back into rehearsals with a band and get that going and just keep writing and coming up with new material for the next wave of music.

GBTRS: Is there anything else that you want people to know about you or your music, or is there anything that you wish you got to talk about more that you might not get asked?

Plexxaglass: Wow, good question. I think a lot of people don't realize that musicians- especially independent artists- this is this is our small business. It takes a lot of work, obviously, it takes talent and patience, but it takes money. That's why they're there are gaps in time of when I put music out, because sometimes I just legitimately can't afford to- which is sad, I wish that the US had more support for artists like I know other countries do- I know that the UK is really good about grant opportunities for their artists out there. 

I know that people are happy to consume music, but I think people don't realize- especially in the independent side of things- how hard it is to be a musician who's trying to make it in this country. I appreciate everyone who has ever just randomly sent me like $2 on PayPal. It means so much to me because it means that they get that and I think that is something really special and cool about the family that I'm building with my music because they think that they really see me and they appreciate the work. It's people who genuinely want to be involved in my work, and that is something I've never experienced before until the past year or two. That's awesome because myself and my producer, Kevin...we love this project to death. It's awesome to see response from people who love it just as much as we do.

[girlsbtrs]

Eliminating Gatekeeping in the Music Industry: An Interview with Shelby Hancock

Written by April Bredael. Graphic by Paula Nicole.

When it comes to breaking into the music industry, resources are not only needed, but essential and can make or break one's access to opportunities, networking events, and even job postings. Here at Girls Behind The Rock Show, we are proud to be one of those resources, existing to promote and further the education and experience of underrepresented people seeking to enter the industry and make a change in the infrastructure of the entire industry. 

I had the chance to meet virtually with Shelby Hancock, a 2020 graduate of FDCU and founder of Music Industry Entryway, a resource dedicated to sharing resources with others and providing a compilation of ways to get your foot in the door. While Shelby is well known and an established hard worker in the music industry community, she shares that it hasn’t always been this way. 

“When I began to apply for jobs, I wasn’t getting anything. I was getting tons of rejections, I was kind of unmotivated. From there I went back to LinkedIn and was starting to get more serious. I found more resources like Girls Behind The Rock Show, Amethyst Collab, The Digilogue, everything like that. These are amazing resources, but I realized they were hard to find if you didn’t already have a surrounding of like minded people in the industry. From there I realized that it would be so great if there was a place where people could come together, get all these resources, get to know each other, and be surrounded by opportunities.”

From there, Music Industry Entryway began to come to life. With an emphasis on resource sharing and community building,  Shelby created something that hadn’t been done before; a one stop place to access the many vital and innovative resources for people to utilize, whether they were just beginning and hadn’t heard of any of them, or more immersed and wanted more communities to join. What began as a Google Sheet filled with links turned into a fully functional website in less than 24 hours. She shared that since she’d already compiled the resources, why not share them if it would help someone else?

After then expanding her community onto other platforms including Clubhouse, Instagram, LinkedIn, and Twitter, Shelby realized that she wasn’t alone in the rejections and difficulty breaking into the music scene. 

“I think that we are kind of taught a mindset of all competition when we’re first going into it. In college, we’re taught that we’re all competing for the same job. When I began to apply I kind of had that mindset, but when I started to meet other people I realized, this is not a competition. These are people I might be working with in the future. If I get this job, that’s great. If they get this job, that’s great …. I’m definitely wishing and hoping that the barriers to get into the music industry will be broken down soon and I think that this generation will be the one to do so.”

Providing resources that often don’t even apply to her, Shelby shares that she enjoys helping others and sharing information whenever she can to create opportunities for others, “If doing something as simple as sharing a post of information is going to help someone get an internship or have access to an event that will teach them something important, why would I not?” As a postgrad young professional, Shelby wishes that she would have had a Music Industry Entryway when she was still in college and eligible for many of the internships only offered to college students. Fueled by her compassion and drive to help others, Shelby is avid in her support of like minded people in the industry. Whether it be speaking at panels or setting up networking calls with those that look up to her, Shelby is a team player in every sense of the world. 

One of the crucial questions I had for Shelby is how people can work to eliminate these barriers to entry in their day to day lives without everyone having the resources and time to create an entire community. She shares that the first step is acknowledging that clear barriers exist. Whether that be unpaid internships, geographical barriers, or something as simple as not being in college and therefore ineligible for many opportunities, breaking in is tough, and acknowledging that everyone doesn’t have the same access to opportunities is key. Secondly, she shares that having these conversations with people and altering your mindset from competition to community is what creates an open and supportive environment in the industry. Acknowledging that established music industry personnel are often so ‘go go go that they may not even realize the difficulties’ is another idea Shelby mentioned. Throughout the duration of COVID-19 and everyone being forced to slow down, she adds that ‘people are beginning to take a step back and have time to share more information. The pandemic was obviously a brutal thing but from it a lot of beautiful connections were made.’

With these resources and mindsets, it is entirely possible to break down these walls in order to build a more accessible future and easier entry to the industry of our dreams. Following the example of leading industry personnel like Shelby, it is easy to envision a future where all of this is made possible. One thing I know for certain is that with her strong and kind-willed mindset and abundance of determination, Shelby Hancock is on track towards a wonderful future and making steps towards a greater change. I am endlessly grateful to know her and call her a good friend in my life. 

For a complete list of all of these resources as well as more information on Shelby Hancock, check out Music Industry Entryway online. 

#april bredael

[girlsbtrs]

Songwriting Double Standards

Written by Ella Jarrard. Graphic by James N. Grey. 

I’m really fucking nosey. I love listening to strangers' conversations when they sit next to me at a restaurant. I like guessing their status or commitment to each other. When cute couples seemingly break up, I like scouring their instagram feeds for clues. I read my seat neighbor's phone on airplanes. I look at strangers’ book choices on the subway and guess their political affiliation. John Gersham - generational Republican? Joan Didion - moderate liberal? The mystery is fascinating. 

I would like to say my compulsive habit comes from an innocent thirst to understand human beings and the way they operate, and justify myself as a silent observer of the world and its intricacies, but that would be a lie. I’m just really fucking nosey. 

My innate nosiness is the reason I love breakup records. I pride myself on not diving into gossip magazines, and have a nonchalant attitude towards the lives of celebrities. However, a good breakup record? Delicious. A breakup record where we know who the musician is singing about? Even better. 

But as a self proclaimed lover of breakup tracks, I couldn’t help but notice a gigantic discrepancy between male musicians who write about failed love and female musicians who do the same. Typically- men write songs about the women who broke their hearts, and the audience becomes their ride or die supporters- one begins to inadvertently hate the subject. However, the audiences’ role of acting like they’re comforting a drunk girl in the bathroom over her cheating boyfriend is not always as easily extended to female musicians. 

Sexism is multifaceted, and takes its place in every industry, hobby, social subset. To properly attempt to dismantle the misogynistic stronghold, we must first understand the more clandestine ways in which women are treated unequally. 

The concept of vilification is at the heart of double standards in songwriting. It’s natural to resent your ex if they've hurt you, and it's oddly satisfying to have your friends resent them as well. On that point, for music fanatics, it's almost natural to feel so connected to the artist that you resent their ex too. The problem lies in how far that fan support stretches, as it often fails to extend to female counterparts. Instead, they are greeted with the horribly repetitive response of “Why would you share this private thing in such a public sphere?” or “That's so inappropriate to share publicly” , and “All she does is write about ex boyfriends”. In both spheres, songwriter or song subject, woman equals villain. 

My favorite breakup song, “Jane Says”, by Jane's Addiction, is not a breakup song. It’s about a heroin addict who is trying to kick both drugs and her toxic boyfriend Sergio. It’s an igniting plea for a break, a self-dealt wakeup call for a better life, wrapped up into a beautifully desperate chant that fits every mood. It’s a perfect song for several reasons, but the most important being that it passes the ultimate break-up song sexism test. It’s a pitiful ode to a woman the narrator is losing; and you can sense they yearn for her to ‘kick tomorrow’ as much as Jane wants to. The lyrics make it impossible to resent her, and therefore the woman, Jane, is free from vilification. 

The issue presents itself most robustly in the age of social media. A rumored breakup can trend faster than the couple can block each other on instagram. Summarizing the general publics’ opinion of a certain musician has never been easier- a quick scroll through Rolling Stone Magazine’s comments suffices. 

Don’t believe me yet? I stumbled across Stevie Nicks instagram post regarding Lindsay Buckingham’s heart illness a couple weeks ago. It was a normal, PR agent screened post filled with well wishes. Her comments however, were filled with scornful messages criticizing her for his departure from Fleetwood Mac. Internet bullies are a constant component of life in a social media obsessed world, but comments scorning her for tracks she wrote, decades ago, concerning her and Lindsey’s breakup, were shocking. 

One perfect example of the vilification of female subjects is the fan reaction to Harry Styles' Fine Line. His whimsical album, which intends to speak on “having sex and feeling sad”, attempts to breach a level of transparency and self deprication Styles had seldom reached before. In the first lines of “Falling”, he blames ‘his drink and his wandering hands’ for the coming breakup, presumably with his ex-girlfriend Camille Rowe. Instead of listening to the beautifully sincere and apologetic lyricism contained within Fine Line, and appreciating the honest confession a superstar like Styles has given, fans immediately villainized Rowe- her comments were subsequently turned off, and hate pages flooded in. Styles openly admits his shortcomings, his apparent toxicity, yet still- the woman is villainized, and even worse- she is villainized by other women. 

The amount of female musicians who are villainized is never ending. However, the way in which their art and talent is disrespected, downplayed and shamed for its transparency can vary. For example, women are more likely to be assigned as an ‘industry plant’, and therefore more susceptible to having their work under-appreciated. Phoebe Bridgers’ devastatingly beautiful Punisher momentarily draws from her abusive relationship with Ryan Adams. The music industry and its fanatics' response to Bridger’s claims were as predictable and disappointing as Ryan Adams' last record. Instead of Bridgers’ Punisher being the final nail in the coffin for Adams, unspoken claims of Bridgers being an industry plant arose instead, covering the tracks of yet another mediocre male musician and tarnishing the work of a talented young woman. 

For a moment, it felt as if my odd hobby was nearing a disheartening end. I couldn’t feed my nosy habit without feeling guilty that I was also feeding into double standards that vilify women on each end.  Then, miraculously, a purple beam of light rose over the metaphorical mountain and reminded me I could still be nosey. Thank God! 

The consistent underestimation and mistreatment of female subjects and musicians is the reason I love the excitement surrounding Olivia Rodrigo. In Sour, Rodrigo highlights every post breakup emotion in the book- jealousy, yearning, resentment, misplaced fondness. She does this skillfully, and avoids berating her ex’s new girlfriend, keeping every emotion preciously coddled between herself and him. Even from a non-fan perspective, it's refreshing to have a wounded woman write a raw, wonderfully young album about an all consuming breakup, and receive fame and respect without being villainized for breaching the mythical line of privacy. 

With SOUR, Rodrigo delivers a perfect example of how to write with honesty and gumption as a young woman. With “Jane Says”, male musicians show how to write of yearning and loss without vilifying your subject. Together comes a map for embarking on the task of a breakup song, and gives us all a way to stay nosey without guilt. 

As Jane would say, I’m gonna kick [my habit of vilification] tomorrow. 

#ella jarrard

[girlsbtrs]

Crying in H Mart: A Review

Written by Theresa Cambe. Graphic by James N. Grey. 

Michelle Zauner, a Korean American musician who is commonly known from the indie-rock band, Japanese Breakfast, released her memoir earlier this year entitled, Crying in H-Mart.

Michelle Zauner was born in Seoul, Korea from her Korean-native mother and her American father. The family then moved to Eugene, Oregon to call home base. This book centers around the most prominent part of Zauner’s life, her mother and her love through food.

Every page in this book is so real that it is uncomfortable to have to sit with. She brings to light the darkest parts in human lives that we dread to think about. The book outright tells the story of what many of us often push down into the deepest parts of our mind, the thing that most of us dread to think about, and what is the hardest to come to terms with, which is the loss of our closest loved ones. Zauner cared for her mother after she became sick with cancer until her unfortunate passing. This book honors her story, through the thick of it all.

Zauner takes us through her relationship with her mother, starting from early days of tough love to the teenage years of stubbornness to the turbulent young adult life. Zauner did not always have the best relationship with her. Since she was an only child, there was strong pressure to be a perfect child in the eyes of how her mother wanted. Every detail was to be criticized; how to look, act, and live a certain way, resulting in more rebellion and tension between the mother and daughter in her teenage years as she focused more on music instead of going to college. I believe that many other first-generation kids can find themselves in this aspect. Parents often want the very best for us but can miss the mark on understanding the cultural differences of growing up in America and the other ways one can be successful. Zauner compares herself to the other kids at the Korean language school she attended and states, “…I struggled to relate to the obedience that seemed to possess them…they wore the visors their moms bought them without protest…” (Zauner 81).

She talks about what me, and I am sure many other Asian Americans can heavily resonate with: our connection to our culture. The tug-of-war of growing up wishing to look and act like the other kids to getting older and realizing that you have disconnected too much from your culture that you find it harder to relate to your roots, trying to find that part once again. Once Zauner realized she wanted to reconnect with her Korean side, her mother’s life was cut short. She expresses her concerns that the only form of connection to her culture is through her mother, fearful she would lose that without her.

But no matter what part of her life Zauner takes us through, there is food along the way. If it was packing school lunches or preparing fresh home-cooked meals for her daughter to come home from college to, her mother was happy to do it, and even took pride in it. They bonded through food. However, when her mother was diagnosed with cancer, that relationship with food changed as it became harder and harder for her to stomach the food that once represented delicacies, social events, tradition, and significant points in life because of her chemotherapy and worsening health. After the passing of her mother, Zauner turned to cooking the foods that she grew up with as the most effective form of therapy and healing; using taste as a way to connect her back to her mother once again. Reflecting on the fermentation process used for kimchi as it relates to her, Zauner writes, “The culture we shared was active, effervescent in my gut and in my genes, and I had to seize it, foster it so it did not die in me” (223).

Not only is Crying in H Mart a wonderful book of insight into Zauner’s life but it also gives Japanese Breakfast fans further context and appreciation of the music. It explains that Japanese Breakfast’s debut album, Psychopomp, released in 2016, 2 years after the death of her mother, is the creative musical product of her dealings with grief. The album cover features an old photo of her mother in her twenties, using her watercolor paintings on the vinyl disc. Songs like “In Heaven”, which opens the album, sings the lines: “Oh do you believe in heaven? / Like you believed in me / Oh it could be such heaven / if you believed it was real”. This particular line refers to her mother not practicing Christianity, which is uncommon in the Korean community, and dealing without the comforting belief of a heaven after one’s life on Earth. Many of these stories and backgrounds discussed in Crying in H Mart can also be found throughout their following album, Soft Sounds from Another Planet, making this book the gateway into the world of Zauner and Japanese Breakfast.

A few weeks following the release of Crying in H Mart, the band Japanese Breakfast released their album Jubilee. And as Pitchfork announced just a few days following the album release, Zauner’s memoir will be adapted into a movie with MGM’s Orion Pictures accompanied by a soundtrack from the band themselves (https://pitchfork.com/news/japanese-breakfast-memoir-crying-in-h-mart-being-made-into-a-movie/). With big projects released this year as well as many in the works, Japanese Breakfast is truly breaking through into their deservedly earned success. What started off as Zauner taking inspiration from Karen O to buy her first guitar during her early teen years, turned into a world touring band at the forefront of the indie-music scene.

This story is deeply real and heavy. It is a human and authentic way of dealing with family, love, loss, self, and healing, making Crying in H-Mart very rightfully well received by a wide array of audiences. The legacy of her mother lives on forever through Zauner’s work she has created to honor her life. 

#theresa cambe

[girlsbtrs]

Fake Friends: A Review

Written by Aja Landolfi. Graphic by Moira Ashley. 

Have you ever had a friend that you thought was your best friend but then turned out not to be? Well, if you have Jillian Jordyn's debut single, "Fake Friends" is the song for you.

"Fake Friends" was written by Jillian as a song that people of all ages who have felt the rise and fall of friendships could relate to.

"Growing up, I was always taught that friends are supposed to build each other up and support one another, but life quickly taught me that's not always true," Jillian said. "Fake Friends is about discovering the truths and how my eyes become wide open to the reality of some 'friendships.'"

The song starts off reminiscing on the days when things with a so-called "friend" were good, slowly transitioning to conversations dying over time and how there was no goodbye in losing this person who you thought was supposed to be a friend. Jillian's catchy pop song shows the emotions of what the rollercoaster of having fake friends is like. 

But the message of empowerment stands out. As Jillian sings, "I don't need fake friends," this track is a reminder to everyone listening to the song of the importance of what being and having real friends means.

"This song is me wanting to share my hopes of empowerment, the importance of kindness and inclusion," Jillian said. "We need more ambassadors in this world to be examples of what a true friend should be. Through this song, I hope to convey a message to everyone that we need to love and support each other whenever we can."

So, if you're facing a fake friend's situation and need a reminder that you are stronger without them in your life, listen to Jillian's song and let "Fake Friends" remind you that you deserve nothing less than real, amazing friends who always have your back.

Listen to "Fake Friends"

Check out the music video below!

Jillian Jordyn (formally promoted under Jillian Rose) is an actress and a rising singer-songwriter. Jillian has been singing for as long as she could speak and could only ever see herself being a performer. Jillian booked her first professional gig in 2017, singing at Madison Square Garden for a half-time show. She has also performed the national anthem at Citi Field for the New York Mets and Barclays Center for the Brooklyn Nets. 2019 was a big year for Jillian Jordyn. She went on the Boys of Summer Tour, performed at Winter Lights Orlando, and she appeared as Attica Staines on Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.   Jillian is now focused on her music, she will be releasing many tracks and music videos for her listeners to enjoy throughout 2021 and beyond.