Just a reminder that we’re playing in NYC on Saturday with Hop Along, Night Birds, and Bad Canoes.
Brooklyn Night Bazaar Saturday March 8th 6pm It’s gonna be rad!
Although the show is free, our friends from the @AliForneyCenter will be on hand to accept your donations of new t-shirts & socks & cash! Please visit them at AliForneyCenter.org to learn more about how you can help homeless LGBTQ youth. Check yr privilege. See you in Saturday!
This weekend, instead of celebrating football, an obvious metaphor for American imperialism (and it’s inherent futility), can we just all fucking agree to celebrate Dischord’s release of the S.O.A. demos?
Snow, in addition to being truly beautiful, one of the few things that can truly transform the cityscape, tends to create conditions that highlight both the best and the worst of what humanity is capable. We experienced the full range today, and it was a real shitstorm for awhile, but neighbors and strangers helping each other out is still the rule rather than the exception. We still got that PMA.
And here we are. We will play a *FREE SHOW* at the Brooklyn Night Bazaar on March 8th, joined by kindred spirits HOP ALONG, NIGHT BIRDS and BAD CANOES. This is, at the moment, our only planned east coast show of 2014.
Although the show is free (or maybe ESPECIALLY in light of that fact), our friends from the Ali Forney Center will be on hand to accept your donations of new t-shirts & socks, as well as monetary donations. Please visit AliForneyCenter.org to learn more about how you can help homeless LGBTQ youth. Check yr privilege. Many thanks to Noisey for making this happen. Hope to see you!
As we begin the new year and the editors have revealed their best albums of 2013, we’ve also got the reader-voted list of albums which saw Epitaph Records take the top two spots and three in the top ten overall. .
The PunkNews.org editors AND readers have BOTH named our “INVISIBLE” EP the #1 EP of 2013. And who are we to judge them?
I was maybe 12 years old the first time I got sexually assaulted in a pit. (Of course I didn’t think of it as sexual assault at the time.) It was a metal show, and some guy maybe 10 years older than me came up behind me and just grabbed my tits.
Of course we don’t want to spoil everybody’s holiday get-togethers with guilty conscience, but as punks, we feel its important to cultivate an awareness of the historical context of our more oppression-laden holidays. And if you’re joining us in having a meat-free feast, we salute you!
their high school principal
told me I couldn’t teach
poetry with profanity
so I asked my students,
“Raise your hand if you’ve heard of the Holocaust.”
in unison, their arms rose up like poisonous gas
then straightened out like an SS infantry
“Okay. Please put your hands down.
Now raise your hand if you’ve heard of the Rwandan genocide.”
blank stares mixed with curious ignorance
a quivering hand out of the crowd
half-way raised, like a lone survivor
struggling to stand up in Kigali
“Luz, are you sure about that?”
“That’s what I thought.”
they won’t let you hear the truth at school
if that person says “fuck”
can’t even talk about “fuck”
even though a third of your senior class
I can’t teach an 18-year-old girl in a public school
how to use a condom that will save her life
and that of the orphan she will be forced
to give to the foster care system—
“Carlos, how many 13-year-olds do you know that are HIV-positive?”
“Honestly, none. But I do visit a shelter every Monday and talk with
six 12-year-old girls with diagnosed AIDS.”
while 4th graders three blocks away give little boys blowjobs during recess
I met an 11-year-old gang member in the Bronx who carries
a semi-automatic weapon to study hall so he can make it home
and you want me to censor my language
“Carlos, what’s genocide?”
your books leave out Emmett Till and Medgar Evers
call themselves “World History” and don’t mention
King Leopold or diamond mines
call themselves “Politics in the Modern World”
and don’t mention Apartheid
“Carlos, what’s genocide?”
you wonder why children hide in adult bodies
lie under light-color-eyed contact lenses
learn to fetishize the size of their asses
and simultaneously hate their lips
my students thought Che Guevara was a rapper
from East Harlem
still think my Mumia t-shirt is of Bob Marley
how can literacy not include Phyllis Wheatley?
schools were built in the shadows of ghosts
filtered through incest and grinding teeth
molded under veils of extravagant ritual
“Carlos, what’s genocide?”
“Roselyn, how old was she? Cuántos años tuvo tu madre cuando se murió?”
“My mother had 32 years when she died. Ella era bellísima.”
they’ve moved from sterilizing “Boriqua” women
injecting indigenous sisters with Hepatitis B,
now they just kill mothers with silent poison
stain their loyalty and love into veins and suffocate them
Ridwan’s father hung himself
in the box because he thought his son
was ashamed of him
Maureen’s mother gave her
skin lightening cream
the day before she started the 6th grade
she carves straight lines into her
beautiful brown thighs so she can remember
what it feels like to heal
This is worth checking out and checking into, not so much because of Dan’s interview, but because this whole project is pretty crucial and inspirational. It’s an interview archive addressing the history of Philadelphia punk/hardcore, especially the DIY variety. The project as a whole is refreshing and invigorating in the face of the proliferation of documentaries in which punk veterans complain about how punk ended or became irrelevant after they dropped out. All history is revisionist to some extent, but Loud! Fast! Philly! shows history for what it really is: multiple narratives, multiple truths. Drink deep!
So, festivals in general can be pretty weird and alienating. The intimate and authentic experiences that we crave in basements, VFW’s, and church social halls are often lost in large venues. But tonight we felt a special connection with our philadelphia friends and travelers from all over the country, a connection that’s really unusual in a room so large. Sometimes we worry that we’re not a good fit at shows like this, or that no one really wants to hear what we have to say in a situation that seems, on the surface, to be so entertainment-oriented. Thank you, everyone at TIHC, for making us feel welcome, and for sharing with us the spirit that moves us to make this music in the first place.
“TO BE HOPEFUL in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness.
What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places—and there are so many—where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction.
And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.”—Howard Zinn
To all those working tirelessly to dismantle rape culture, we stand with you. And we all need to fucking blast Facebook and their advertisers with demands to address our concerns about pages/profiles that glorify violence against women. Starting now.
Fellow Punks, It is with a coupling of anti-ambivalence and no small amount of disbelief to announce we have somehow managed to move both heavens and earth to make ourselves able (or, if you prefer, to Enable ourselves) to perform at least twice more in 2013. And lucky us, both shows are on home turf: Philadelphia, PA (August 11th) and Gainesville, FL (November 2nd). We will play our songs. We will not sell t-shirts.
People seem to be curious about the pressing info for our new 7”, so we took a few days off work and did some intensive detective work (or, slept until 3pm and texted Var). So here it is. We sold all the pink and clear at the record release show and the yellow and white were all for mailorder. We’re told the only thing left is purple but who knows? Word is these are going fast too, so I dunno. Maybe buy one if you care about physical things? Or not, whatever.
Hey everyone, we’re excited to inform you all that we now have our own BANDCAMP page and as of this writing the entirety of our recorded output — including some songs you may have never heard before — is now available for immediate streaming and (paid, sorrys) download in your choice of high-quality MP3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire. This is cool, spread the word:
I’ve got a problem with the way you see, your eyes are always trying to take something from me. I’ve got a problem with the way you hear, only listening to the bankers & the bombardiers. But for now I’m not invisible. I’ve got a problem with the way you think. Respect could keep us afloat, but you would rather sink. I’ve got a problem with the way you act. Run your mouth, confuse opinion with fact. Your stare, the weight of your glare, pinned & mounted, but you best beware. And if I don’t make any sense to you, well, I never really wanted to. Through fictions fed & feelings misconstrued, at least I know my aim is true. I learned to crawl, to stand, to fall. I even learned to scale those fucking walls. I learned to scream, to swim upstream, and to subsist on optimism & caffeine. Ice will melt. Seas will rise Iron will rust. Fire will fall from the skies. Hearts will break, but ours will mend, once we’ve spent all that we can spend. We will turn against ourselves, we will feel fear. We are a moment, and we will disappear.
"Irony and cynicism were just what the U.S. hypocrisy of the fifties and sixties called for. That’s what made the early postmodernists great artists. The great thing about irony is that it splits things apart, gets up above them so we can see the flaws and hypocrisies and duplicates. The virtuous always triumph? Ward Cleaver is the prototypical fifties father? "Sure." Sarcasm, parody, absurdism and irony are great ways to strip off stuff’s mask and show the unpleasant reality behind it. The problem is that once the rules of art are debunked, and once the unpleasant realities the irony diagnoses are revealed and diagnosed, "then" what do we do? Irony’s useful for debunking illusions, but most of the illusion-debunking in the U.S. has now been done and redone. Once everybody knows that equality of opportunity is bunk and Mike Brady’s bunk and Just Say No is bunk, now what do we do? All we seem to want to do is keep ridiculing the stuff. Postmodern irony and cynicism’s become an end in itself, a measure of hip sophistication and literary savvy. Few artists dare to try to talk about ways of working toward redeeming what’s wrong, because they’ll look sentimental and naive to all the weary ironists. Irony’s gone from liberating to enslaving. There’s some great essay somewhere that has a line about irony being the song of the prisoner who’s come to love his cage." — David Foster Wallace
Obedience ingrained, so discreet. Our chains rendered obsolete. Post-everything. Feel nothing. Ironic detachment replaces outrage. I’ve grown comfortable in my cage.