(Shut) Up The Punx?

Disclaimer: I totally gacked the title for this blog from a song by Bomb The Music Industry!, but I’m pretty sure they won’t care. Also, what follows is my personal opinion on the positives and negatives of being involved in both the DIY punk scene, feminism and socialism, and I welcome any debate and disagreement, but please respect that I am talking from my own experience. Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. I’m aware I’m not perfect, but I am working hard on everything I do and personally aspire to the ideals I outline in the article below. It’s my greatest wish that we can approach the scene in such a way as to make everyone feel safe and welcome, to inspire and learn from each other and for everyone to try and give as much as they take.

Bomb the Music Industry – (Shut) Up The Punx!!!

The Clash: eternally inspiring.

I can pinpoint my punk rock epiphany to a precise moment: aged 14, in my bedroom, listening to the Clash for the first time. With that band came an expansion of my mind. I realised that many of the things I felt, my view of the world and what I wanted to happen socially and politically jived with what Joe was rasping through my speakers. Those bands from over 30 years ago, and the musicians they inspire today, speak to me more than most anything else I’ve come into contact with. The same was true when, at roughly the same age, I discovered Marx and Trotsky and became more aware of the inherent inequalities in capitalist society. The more I consumed books, zines and albums, the more I came to realise that I identified deeply with socialism, feminism and punk rock. On paper, these three aspects of my character gel perfectly. In practice, I have found that I’ve come up against various barriers and stumbling blocks on this journey of self-discovery.

As I grew older, and grew into my identity, I began to be more involved in my local punk scene. I met some amazing people and made some fantastic friends, many of whom shared similar politics, notions of fairness and equality that we somehow found lacking in others. We formed a support network, swapped zines, put on gigs, provided touring bands with a place to sleep, a hot shower and breakfast in the morning. Our nights were often capped by staying up late, putting the world to rights. Any disagreements we had were talked through and only helped to further expand my world-view and to open my eyes further to the hidden aspects of the scene.

What I’ve described so far sounds idyllic – a bunch of idealistic kids trying to change the world, or even just their small corner of it. So far, so awesome. However, increasingly I have begun to notice a creeping apathy within the scene. Despite the charity music fests, the vegan recipes in zines and the stalls/stickering for Palestine Solidarity, there’s a fairly strong body who do fuck all but pay lip-service to what I feel is the true spirit of punk. These negative-Nancies drag down the good actions that I see in my small group. I’ve seen their attitudes begin to infect previously strong activists and scene linchpins and it makes me sick. I’ve begun to feel uncomfortable at gigs, and more and more violence, fighting and casual misogyny have become the order of the day.

Maybe I’m just getting older, maybe my rose-tinted glasses have slipped, maybe what I’m seeing has always existed. All I know is that it gets me down when I think of the effort my friends and I put in to everything we do and compare it to the actions of others. I think of the bands who play for pennies, barely hoping to break even or fill their petrol tank. I think of the hours spent meticulously cutting and pasting and photocopying zines, of the time spent flyering and stickering and lobbying with letter-writing, the meetings and rallies and marches. I think of the familiar faces I am seeing less and less down the front at gigs and it makes me intensely sad. I think about all the times I’ve been punched, spat on, pushed about simply for being a woman with the gall to go in the pit. I think of the times I’ve heard homophobic or sexist insults aimed at people I care about. I think about the times I’ve seen punches thrown*, glasses shattered, people pulled apart by those brave enough to try and stop the violence. I see all this and I become more and more convinced that a large part of the scene has lost it’s way, that it’s no longer in touch with it’s roots. There’s far too much take and not enough give. Those people who so selflessly provided, organised and rallied round have dropped out, through lack of support and too much selfishness from their peers.

Sheena Ozzella is fucking amazing

There are a few shoots of hope. Bands like the King Blues, Bomb the Music Industry**, Andrew Jackson Jihad, American Steel, Bridge and Tunnel, Propagandhi and Leatherface continue to write sensitive, politically aware songs that resonate deeply with me. I feel proud and inspired when I see strong, female artists like Laura Stevenson, Lauren Denitzio*** and Sheena Ozzella on stage, holding their own in the middle of what is, in effect, the biggest sausage party ever. They make me wish I had the nerve (and the talent) to get up on stage and vocalise my passions and politics. For every horrifically-monikered crust-punk crashing my friend’s parties to do lines of coke off coffee tables****, there are inspiring and passionate people who really believe in the politics of the left and the DIY ethic of punk rock. They are the ones who keep me going through all of the shit that I see, and I am so grateful to them for being there for every post-gig rant and to nurse the bruises to both my body and my confidence in others.

Punk is about being different. It’s about the social, the political and the personal. Punk spaces should be safe spaces – gigs should be inviting and open, without violence, homophobia, racism or sexism. Zines should inspire, provoke discussion and yes, make people laugh. We need to continue to cultivate those practices which make us stand out: the resourcefulness, determination and devil-may-care attitude of those 1970s pioneers; and the sensitivity, thoughtfulness and enthusiasm that I first experienced as a wide-eyed 14 year old. I continue to hope these qualities remain somewhere within the scene today.

Ghost Mice – Up The Punx

* The guy in the fight in this video is Ben from Screeching Weasel, living proof that being in a self-proclaimed punk band doesn’t make you immune to being a complete and utter arsehole. This dude is pretty well hated in the scene for talking shit on hard-working bands and generally being awful.

** Please check out Jeff’s record label, Quote Unquote Records. MP3 albums for donations/free! Pay what you think it’s worth, and if you can’t afford anything, you can have it anyway! Democratic music distribution!

*** For proof of the shit these women take, please take a look at this article. Read the comments at your peril.

**** Yes, this actually happened. Same guy also completely shut me down when I tried to explain why it isn’t cool to call women “bitches”. What a swell dude. Stellar.