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OUT OF EARSHOT: DAY 1

I arrived in St. John’s on Thursday afternoon with a few hours to spare before the first events for Out of Earshot. It wasn’t supposed to rain, but it started to drizzle as I made my way to Eastern Edge Gallery for the artist dinner and first show of the festival.

I met so many kind and wonderful organizers, performers, artists, and friends of friends as I ate my (delicious) tofu burger. It was quickly obvious that the organizers of Out of Earshot were attentive to creating a supportive, comfortable, inclusive, and safe environment.

Nicole, from Hard Ticket, was hosting the first event. With Amery Sandford’s (BBQT/Baby Bunny) installation behind her, she took the stage to acknowledge the land, review the code of conduct, thank everyone involved, and introduce the first act of the first show – Hopscotch.

Hopscotch (NL) is a trumpet, bass, and drum trio that captured my attention because of the way they play with volume and space. Many of their songs started quiet with a lot of empty space, and as the song progressed they filled that space through dynamics and added percussion pieces. It was dramatic in a way that inspired me.

Claire Whitehead (TO) followed Hopscotch and gave another dramatic performance. Half of her set was her solo project, called Claire de la Loopa, where she used her loop pedal to build up her songs using violin and guitar. I felt lucky, in a way, to be there and bear witness to the way she creates music.

Closing the Eastern Edge show was Baby Bunny (NL), also known as BBQT (QC), but with members Sarah and Noah. Although it was so sweet seeing Amery bounce around with her art installation behind her while wearing the custom guitar strap she made for herself, my favourite part of any Baby Bunny/BBQT set is the way Allison sings along while playing drums.

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Photo by Krystal Morgan

Following Eastern Edge, I walked up to Water St. to get to The Ship for the late show with Lo Siento (NL), Property (NL), Rabies (NS), and Laps (QC).

Lo Siento started as soon as I had arrived. Pepa Chan, a musician and artist, was playing between two of her installations of soft plushy toys strung up to the ceiling from the floor. My favourite part of this set was when everyone shouted “no! no! no! no!” along with Pepa during No Tengo Remedio.

Following Lo Siento was another local band, Property. It was during this set, specifically during a song about St. John’s, that I recognized how supportive St. John’s is of their local music scene. They showed up, wearing Property shirts, and stood as close to the stage as possible to sing along with Sarah Harris.

Rabies, from Halifax, played next. I was able to interview Rachel (guitar/vocals) prior to the festival and in this interview she explores the feelings she had before she started playing music. She wrote, “it’s so easy to feel embarrassed”, yet at this show she took the center of the stage and played with confidence that assured us she belonged there.

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Photo by Krystal Morgan

The first day of Out of Earshot came to a close with Laps (QC). Although, quite honestly, I couldn’t make it to the end of the night because I was coming down with a flu, I was able to see Laps earlier this week in Halifax. Stephanie Muise (“smuise”), who was at their show at The Ship said, “their sharp tone and chaotic riffs reminded me of North of America; they proved that math rock is very much alive and well“.


STAFF CONTRIBUTION: Nikki A. Basset

ALBUM REVIEW: “BE THE COWBOY” BY MITSKI

Two years ago, I was obsessively listening to Puberty 2 on my record player, on my phone, in the car, as I ran, by myself, or in company. I was swirling in the fuzzy, emotional depths that Mitski created and had encapsulated me during a shifting time in my life.

On August 17th, she released her fifth album, Be the Cowboy, on the label Dead Oceans. Be The Cowboy is an incredibly diverse, ambitious album that goes beyond an introspective account of personal experience and offers a world of performance and glam, a world created as a piece of art in itself.

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We are welcomed on the opening track, ‘Geyser’, by an organ and Mitski’s crescendoing voice singing my favorite lyrics of the entire album, “You’re my number one / You’re the one I want /  I turned down every hand that has beckoned me to come”. The burst into an orchestral sequence confirms Mitski is still tapping the audience’s emotions in her latest endeavor, but with each song we’re transported to a carefully crafted narrative.

It’s the dance beats of ‘Why Didn’t You Stop Me’, the country-esque vocals of ‘Lonesome Love’, the disco vibe of ‘Nobody’, and the pop synth melody of ‘Me and My Husband’ that proves Mitski is a dynamic, diverse songwriter. She’s a skilled composer with the ability to string these different genres into an incredibly tender, cohesive album. An album I’ll be spinning in my room, at a party, or on the go continuing to discover the moments of tension and allure. An album that only Mitski herself could create.


STAFF CONTRIBUTION: Alycia Socia

OUT OF EARSHOT: INTERVIEW #6 – SOF FROM DOXX

As part of the media coverage for Out of Earshot’s inaugural festival on the weekend of August 23-25, 2018, not your boys club will be showcasing some of the truly wonderful people organizing, playing, and performing at the festival in the weeks leading up to it.

For the final interview in this series, I spoke with Sof (she/her) who does vocals for the hardcore band DOXX. She’s a student, bartender, and musician born in Irkutsk, Russia and based out of Ottawa, ON.

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Photo by Aidan Thatcher

How long has DOXX been making music music and how did everyone meet each other?

DOXX has been making music for about 2.5 years now. I met Britt (guitar) early 2014 when she was a TA in one of my first year gender studies classes at the University of Ottawa and we would see each other at shows in Ottawa here and there. Kieran (drums) and Britt are partners and they formed what was supposed to be a one-off show hardcore band with Jeff (bass) for a show Jeff was booking in I believe March 2016. Originally Britt was gonna be doing guitar and vocals but then it was like, no, this music is too fast to do both – who should we ask to front this band? Britt reached out to me because i would go off in the front row of the audience at every show but had never been in a band. We didn’t know each other super well at that point but I’m so glad they did because now Britt is my #1 ride or die. And I guess it was just too fun to let it go after one show. The rest of my bandmates are pretty much born and raised in Ottawa and so have known each other for much longer than they’ve known me. But we’re tight. I’m the baby of the band.

Were the issues that you sing about (capitalism, white supremacy, heteronormativity, etc.) what inspired the formation of this band?

I would say a heavy love of hardcore punk is what inspired the formation of DOXX, but these issues you mention are important to me/us generally, so naturally that’s what I end up writing lyrics about. I think it’s sick both if someone starts into doxx because they like our sound and then later get something from the lyrics, or vice versa if they’re really into our “”message”” initially and maybe later get more into hardcore and punk because it’s like, oh i actually really like this style of music and it’s not just all angry violent men yelling about “brotherhood” – maybe this music can be for me? The conversation about representation and politicization is interesting and definitely complicated. I put “”message”” in those quotes above because I don’t really think there’s one distinct message I’m aiming to convey with my lyrics…much like, you know, humans in general, there’s a lot going on in my brain and heart…some of it is contradictory, some of it is political, some of it is about my relationships, some of it is sarcastic, some of it is real serious and affecting, but for sure it is still very personal. Sometimes I feel my lyrics are over-analyzed, almost scrutinized, because of how my identity is perceived. It has made me more hesitant to define myself or our music in explicit ways. We’ve been criticized in the past for not being “queer enough” to call ourselves queer punk(s)…I don’t really know what to say to that. Ask my girlfriend. Actually, don’t. I don’t owe nobody shit, leave us alone (lol). Ultimately, I have some shit to say but also ya girl just loves a breakdown, you know? A decent amount of my favourite punk and hardcore bands maybe weren’t intended to resonate with me and my particular experience of life as a young woman…but somehow they do…but maybe if I went to see one of those bands live I wouldn’t feel totally welcome in the space. Like I said, it’s complicated. I guess the best thing about being in doxx is that i’m able to just say fuck it and take that space for myself and others like me, and I think that was definitely at the heart of the formation of the band.

Do you feel like there is a shift in which bands/individuals are given space in the Ottawa music community?

Yes absolutely! I like to think of this kind of growth as a tension between “being given” space and “taking” space – a mix of personal agency and community support that facilitates the status quo being challenged and shifted. There are many older and more established community members in Ottawa (even some cis white men, lol) who are unfailingly encouraging and helpful and recognize that making active efforts for the inclusion of marginalized folks not only makes our community more vibrant and fun but is just like…the right thing to do. For example, my bandmates, who reached out to me to front DOXX even though I had never been in a band before. There are also hella young/queer/trans/POC folks pushing more established community members to complicate how they understand the world and the scene. Both groups are valuable and sick as fuck and strengthen community. At the same time, there will always be those shitheads who are more about their own egos than community building and helping others learn – that’s fine. It’s obvious to me that that kind of attitude comes from a place of bitterness and insecurity and they will eventually become irrelevant and for damn sure aren’t having as much fun as we are.

Empowering femme and non-binary people to participate and take up space in their respective music communities is really important to not your boys club and so I was thrilled to read in an interview that you put out a zine with Britt for femme and queer youth on how to start a band. What would you say was the most important (or the overarching) message you were trying to communicate?

Most important message: starting a band is probably easier than you think! Just do it! If you have questions about resources reach out to us!

Are there any femme and queer folx in your community making music that you would like to give a shout out to?

Yessssss:

TORPOR

TIGHTLIP

SAILOR JUPITER

Sailor jupiter sadly doesn’t exist anymore but are probably my favourite Ottawa band ever.

OMERTA

BONNIE DOON

OUT OF EARSHOT: INTERVIEW #5 – MEG HARNUM

As part of the media coverage for Out of Earshot’s inaugural festival on the weekend of August 23-25, 2018, not your boys club will be showcasing some of the truly wonderful people organizing, playing, and performing at the festival in the weeks leading up to it.

For the fifth installment in this interview series, I spoke with Meg Harnum (she/her), a musician/artist from St. John’s, NL. Meg has been playing drums in bands for over ten years (The Mudflowers, Punch Table, Hard Ticket, Thelma and Louise to name a few) and has been a drum instructor and band coach at Girls Rock NL for the past three years. In July, Meg was invited to Ojai, California where she was a drum instructor and band coach at Girls Rock Santa Barbara. Meg along with her partner and her two cats, Nanny and Poppy, will be temporarily relocating to Montreal for school at the end of August.

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Photo by Shabnam Ferdowsi

Hard Ticket recently put out Same Pal – an EP about friends with shared lived experiences that can relate and offer support during personal hardship and struggle. As it’s an album about friendship, I first want to ask you about when you met Nicole and Mopey, and how the members of Hard Ticket offer each other the kind of support and friendship that this album is about.

I don’t remember exactly when or where I met Nicole and Mopey; St. John’s is a very small city and often living here you know of people long before you really ~know~ them but I am so eternally grateful that I did (meet them). Hard Ticket is like a family, we all offer each other a ton of support and love one another unconditionally and without judgement.

The year or so leading up to the time that Hard Ticket was formed, I was in a bit of a musical slump, full of self-doubt and unsure of my place in the music community. Then along came my Tickies, so upbeat, so posi, so full of love and light and encouragement and it made me feel so much better about everything. It lifted my spirits in a way that only they could.

In April, you put out a two-song EP under your solo project scrambled meggz. One of these songs, 2 little lazy eyes, is a song about friendship with Pepa Chan (of Lo Siento and Ribbon Tied). You sing about how she inspires you – I’m wondering if you can share a little bit more about this and more broadly how other women/non-binary people in the St. John’s music community inspire, support, and empower you.

Pepa Chan is one of my favorite people on earth. She is so unbelievably kind and talented. And strange. A true freak. In the best possible way. She is bursting with creativity. Everything she does is just so distinctly ~Pepa~. She is strong and resilient and a wonderful friend. I love Pepa.

St. John’s is full of amazing women & non binary folx doing incredible things, making beautiful music/art and just, like, making shit happen. All of the board members at Girls Rock NL, SWIM, The Out of Earshot committee. I feel inspired all the time by the initiative taken by all of these rad folx to create such an inclusive community for us all to exist in. I am so thankful to be given so many opportunities to play, teach and contribute. Everyone is so supportive of everyone else’s endeavors, it is a beautiful thing.

During your time working for Girls Rock Santa Barbara and Girls Rock NL, did you experience and build similarly supportive friendships, and furthermore, did you witness these friendships being built among the girls attending the camp?

Holy heck, yes, absolutely. Teaching and band coaching at Girls Rock NL/Santa Barbara has been, at the risk of sounding totally cliche, life changing. It really has. The level of support and understanding  that each and every person I have worked with at camp provides is unbelievable, to the campers and to each other. Watching the kids at camp get to know each other and encourage each other is so absolutely heartwarming and inspiring.

On a final note, I was wondering if you would be comfortable sharing what friendships with womxn and people with other marginalized gender identities means to you.

I have been so lucky in my life to always find myself surrounded by the most bad-ass, powerful, talented women/non-binary friends and I think there is something very special about that. The constant encouragement and love from my bandmates and friends and girls rock family has made me a much stronger and more confident person. I am truly very blessed.


STAFF CONTRIBUTION: Nikki A Basset

ALBUM REVIEW: “THE BLUEST STAR” BY FREE CAKE FOR EVERY CREATURE

On August 3rd, free cake for every creature (PA) put out a new full length soft-pop album called the bluest star. What started as a solo project for song-writer Katie Bennett, free cake has expanded to include long-term band members, Francis Lyons and Heeyoon Won, as well as a rotating cast of musicians and friends.

the bluest star was recorded over the latter half of 2017 in the apartment that Katie and Francis share; maintaining free cakes’s lo-fi bedroom-pop roots while also showing growth through collaboration and experimentation.

Composed with a heart wide-open, each song offers insight into Katie’s lived experiences and her feelings about them. She whispers about the simple and mundane, “eating clementines on the subway / put the peels on my blue jeans” (be home soon) and shares her existential musings, “walked for hours aimlessly / washed in the nothing, happily / the world went on without me / and I let it, happily” (sunday afternoon).

Every track has something special to offer: the drum machine in shake it out, the pedal steel guitar that keeps coming back, the whisper of Katie’s voice in goodbye, unsilentlylisten closely to the bluest star; you won’t want to miss anything.

Favourite track: sideline skyline

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Photo by Francis Lyons

STAFF CONTRIBUTION: Nikki A Basset

OUT OF EARSHOT: INTERVIEW #4 – VIOLET DRAKE

As part of the media coverage for Out of Earshot’s inaugural festival on the weekend of August 23-25, 2018, not your boys club will be showcasing some of the truly wonderful people organizing, playing, and performing at the festival in the weeks leading up to it.

For the fourth installment of this interview series, Samantha Fitzpatrick spoke with Violet Drake (she/her) who is a poet, graphic designer, speaker, and activist based in St. John’s, Newfoundland. Her work explores queer and trans intimacies, embodied trauma, and place-based poetics. She has engaged with academic, activist, and artistic audiences through conferences, workshops, speeches, and performances; most notably and recently as a cast member of the critically-acclaimed production ‘transVersing‘ (produced by Artistic Fraud of Newfoundland & For the Love of Learning). Her debut chapbook ‘estrogenesis‘ is forthcoming (2019).

violet drake

Photo by herself

What inspired you to apply for the Out of Earshot inaugural festival?

I think OoE’s pledge to represent emerging, DIY, and otherwise marginalized art forms is fantastic. I have an ever-growing desire to share creative pieces of my experience as a trans Newfoundlander with the world, and to meet and build connections with other artists across differences of experience and/or discipline. One very fulfilling aspect of my artistic practice is the ability to find – and to some degree begin to know – those who connect with my work, on- or offline, whether or not they are artists themselves. It helps me continue to touch and be touched by others, and moves me to keep making art, both independently and in collaboration with friends or colleagues.

You identify as an author, an artist, and an activist. How do these identities intersect in your work?

All of my creative work is informed by my entangled experiences as a writer, graphic designer, and activist. I have been writing poetry and designing digital media for over ten years, and have been visible as a local trans feminist activist for six. Both my ongoing activist labour, and the creative process that I cultivated throughout my adolescence, have led me to do things and meet people I never would have imagined as a young trans girl in rural Newfoundland. I am continuously inspired by the various forms of art with which I am engaged, the places I find myself in, as well as both the stories told and methodologies used by other artists.

Several questions consistently guide my artistic process: Why do I tell specific stories? How did I arrive within a particular moment? Who does or doesn’t have access to my work? Who is present? In this sense, both my thinking and creating are always political. In another way, I feel like I am just following the dreams of a weird 13-year-old kid that spent most of their time inside on a computer doing whatever they could with photos and words to pass the time, to make sense of their life, to dream a world of their own.

Your poem “Bookworm” presents books as safe spaces, avenues of escape but also realms of endless possibility—from Narnia to Hogwarts. It also suggests that literature can help us understand each other’s realities. How has your own writing allowed you to better understand yourself?

I wrote “Bookworm” for all of us who have used literature to cope with, and imagine futures beyond, the varied trauma of our social and political worlds. I also wrote it as a love poem to the kid who sat out during gym class with a novel in hand, and the teen who found the strength within the pages of their introductory sociology textbook to finally come out as trans to their parents. For me, there is no greater method through which I have learned more about myself than the tangled joy of reading and writing. I have loved books since I was old enough to read, and I am forever grateful to my childhood and teen self for never ceasing to consume as many stories as their heart desired. I have always been, and am now more than ever, moved by the power of storytelling to create possibilities for both readers and writers.

I think that regardless of age, gender, class, and other markers of difference, books can be a beacon of hope for people who are struggling. Stories and theories offer us multiplicities and possibilities. They can encourage us to enter a world beyond the chaos and violence of our lives. We can also find ourselves in the stories we read, and recognize our strength and courage to face our world beyond paper with a willingness to make it better – to imagine, think, and desire otherwise.

In a previous interview (Rogers TV), you talk about poetry being a way to “facilitate connection” (4:13).  How does your work help connect people?

When I write and perform, I think about the vulnerability and intimacy I share with an audience – whether that includes those who engage with my work on the written page, or those who hear my voice shift and see my body move during a reading or performance. Poetry is an art form I use to both create and sustain an emotional bridge between my life history and an audience with whom I bear witness. I can only hope that new thoughts, feelings, and/or experiences arise in our convergence. In this vein, I see my work as a tool to foster connection between not only an audience and me, but also those present in the lives of anyone my work touches.            

Daze Jefferies referenced your work in a recent article, “Crossing Lost Ends: Writing Trans Women’s Histories in Newfoundland and Labrador” (WORD 29.2 Spring 2018), suggesting that it was helping contribute to the beginnings of the documentation of “trans [Newfoundland and Labrador] women’s lives” (p. 10). What are your own thoughts on trans representation within our province’s cultural spaces, literary or otherwise?

I think that trans representation in Newfoundland and Labrador is never simple. It is complicated by the long-gendered politics of archival documentation that re-member only a handful of (patriarchal) lives. Subsequently, the stories of many people in our province – including cis women, as well as Indigenous, working class, and queer and trans communities – have been lost over time. The creative work that Daze and I produce is absolutely informed by Viviane Namaste’s extensive research on trans archival invisibility (see her 2000 book Invisible Lives).

There is an enormous and irreparable erasure of trans people, especially trans women, from the historical record of this province. Do I think our invisibility is intentional? Not outright, but our archival absences speak to the power and reach of cisnormativity across both space and time. The erasure of NL trans history must be understood as a particular kind of trauma that has consequences for generations of trans people with and beyond us right now. This is why, as Daze argues in “Crossing Lost Ends”, that it is so important for trans women in our province to make our lives visible when we feel emotionally prepared and resilient enough to do so. As we inscribe our histories in our own words and on our own creative terms, we can begin to remediate archival anxieties and trauma.                

Acknowledging how we are ruptured in place and time is just one way for us to meet this hurt and answer to it. When Daze says that trans women in NL are “situated within torn cartographies” (10), she means that all of us are trying to find just where and how we belong in a province with very little visible trans history. If our historical lives were ever written here, they are on a missing page torn from a precious book. That is why trans art, writing, and performance matter. Ultimately, I share my art because I want to make it easier for young trans people here to understand that they are not alone. I want others to find solace in my work. Beginning to stitch together a comforting quilt of trans histories and temporalities is a crucial part of our communal healing, no matter how torn the edges of its patchwork appear. I must stress that this is a deeply personal and political project for both trans communities and the people who love and live alongside us.

You’ve been involved in lots of exciting projects lately, including performing in and, soon, being published with transVersing. Would you care to talk a bit more about that and any other arts-based projects you may be working?

I am certainly ecstatic to find myself working in different artistic spaces throughout the province, my favourite of course being the opportunity to work with my transVersing family. I am honoured and privileged to be a part of the ground-breaking force that is transVersing – a project that further pushes theatrical boundaries in NL by showcasing the talents of trans youth.

Outside of the transVersing world, I am sharing some of my poetry on Aug 14 at Ask Me About My Feminist Agenda, an open mic night organized by local feminist company Persistence Theatre. You can also look for my poetry display at the local feminist art show Feminisms {Re}Framed taking place between Aug 24-6 at St. Michael’s Printshop.

Further, I am currently completing my debut chapbook, estrogenesis, with a publication date sometime in the near future. It is the brainchild of my past four years of living-growing-being, and I can’t wait to share it with the world.

What can an audience expect of your performance at Out of Earshot?

Expect an invitation to learn more about what it means to live, love, grow, and exist as trans in this province through poetry. My poetry can be emotionally challenging, but it showcases my absolute truth. I want the audience to connect with me, unfold with me, and gain insight about my life and work. I hope to conjure questions, sate curiosities, and create possibilities for all of us to begin to imagine and design a world that is more uplifting for trans and gender non- conforming communities.


GUEST CONTRIBUTION: Samantha Fitzpatrick (she/her) is an arts administrator, writer, and avid volunteer. Her poetry has been published nation-wide in magazines, journals, and anthologies.

FESTIVAL: SAPPYFEST

Before ever visiting the east coast, my partner, who I met in Ontario, repeatedly told me that not only was the east coast the best place in the whole world but Sappyfest was the best weekend of the whole year.

I went to Sappyfest 12, and during my flight home, I felt like I was missing something – why didn’t I feel how my partner told me I would feel? The weekend was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting; I couldn’t keep up with the names and faces I was being introduced to nor were there many moments where I felt at ease.

After graduating from my Master’s program this spring, my partner and I decided that we would spend our summer in Sackville before moving to Halifax mid-August. Although I was apprehensive, it didn’t take much time in Sackville before I felt what they told me I would feel on the east coast. I have seen the landscape, I have gotten to know the faces that I previously (yet briefly) met, and I have been answered when I’ve asked for help or support.

sackville

Sappyfest 13, though still exhausting, was a beautiful and life-giving experience. I felt less like an outsider – or an extension of someone else – and more like a whole person that contributed in some way to the moments that make Sappyfest as special as it truly is.

Before offering a few of my favourite moments – that maybe you bore witness to as well – I want to make a quick note of something about Sappyfest that I think is notable, though shouldn’t necessarily have to be noted.

Sappyfest promotes diversity, marginalized folx, and Canadian artists. The line-up, of all Canadian artists and musicians, was predominately womxn: queer womxn, womxn of colour, indigenous womxn. I applaud Sappyfest for having a lineup that celebrates music from non-men, and especially non-men with intersecting identities, and encourage other festivals to do the same.

Anyway – here are not your boys club top three Sappy 13 moments:

1/ Witch Prophet (TO) is Ayo Leilani, an independent, queer, Ethiopian/Eritrean mother. She played early on Saturday night as people were just starting to make their way back to the tent after an already full day of music and art. Her layered vocals and harmonies over hip-hop and jazz inspired beats captivated the crowd and had everyone in the tent dancing. What had already felt like a powerful performance, brought me to tears before her last song, Love Shock. Ayo told us how she wrote this song for someone she fell in love with too quickly who didn’t reciprocate these feelings until they heard this song. They asked Ayo if she would perform this song, and confessed they would like to be present every time – and they have been – this person is Ayo’s DJ, Sun Sun, who was on stage with her.

witch prophet

2/ Rotten Column (TO) played late on Saturday night at the (sweltering hot) Legion after Washing Machine (HFX). Penny, who fronts the band (vocals/tin whistle), kindly asked everyone to be pillows for each other once people started to mosh. A friend of mine, who was enjoying the show from the front, was definitely not enjoying the boy that kept bumping into her despite her obvious irritation. Jarrett (bass) not only recognized this discomfort but also stepped in and placed his body between the mosher and person who didn’t want to be moshed against without missing a single note. Taking care of each other and keeping people safe is as punk as it gets.

rotten column

3/ On Sunday night, Julie & the Wrong Guys (TO) closed the main stage. I know it was a great set because I remember recognizing how much fun everyone was having, but I had a difficult time being attentive to Julie’s soft vocals and the Wrong Guys heavy rock music. Earlier that day, I promised my partner that I would crowd surf for the first time with them and the anticipation made me too nervous to focus. I had never crowd surfed before for two reasons, 1) I’ve never trusted a crowd to keep me safe, and 2) I’ve never wanted to put someone in a position where they involuntarily have to keep me safe. I still stand by the latter, but I do trust the crowd at Sappyfest.

julie & the wrong guys

Also – many of you said hi to me and expressed you knew who I am and what I do, visited me at the zine fair, and even bought and wore an nybc shirt or pin. Thank you. Your support and encouragement is so meaningful to me.

See you at Sappyfest 14.