It’s rare to find writing that convincingly represents the world of punk—of show-going and show-playing; of earnest and eager youth; how formative and life-giving it can be to sing and dance in a room of crowded people—but the pieces published in this issue engage with music in a way that feels reliable, lived in. Jennifer…
Category: Issues
Emo Night
Lindsey Peters Berg The boys next to us crushed beer cans with their Converse. Ruth and I were linked at the elbow, prancing in place to generate heat as we waited in line outside the venue. I kept bending my fingers inside the sleeves of my zip-up. It was purple and from American Apparel. A…
wave of song
Jill Kitchen for johnette napolitano the moon exhales full across the sleeping mojave where you still need a jacket in these april winds where starlight trembles above the constellation of palm springs & the far-off glow of los angeles across this bloom of desert across a wave of song so fierce so full of flame…
Hey Man Nice Shot
Thaddeus Gunn The guy who pressed the gun against the back of my head said, What would you say if I blew your brains out right now? which is, I mean, come on, fucking hilarious on the face of it. It was August hot. The slice of sky above the alley was like polished opal.…
Something to Live For
Kim Weldin It’s the late nineties but we’re listening to music from the late seventies. Snarls from Joan Jett and Cherie Currie seep through the speakers of Sally’s 1970s Plymouth Duster. They’re singing something about justice. We can relate. Like we don’t discern any in our own lower-middle-class teenage lives. We’re restless and agitated. We…
Like No One Else
Jennifer Solheim After Quinn and her mom split from her dad and Quinn shaved her entire head save a thatch of dark ragged bangs, she and her best friend Esme started a band called Mouse. Quinn played guitar and keyboards and Esme played bass. They both sang. The drum machine on Quinn’s keyboard kept the…
On Queer Rage, or Laura Jane Grace Forever
Keegan Lawler At first, it is delight. A free parking space across from the venue. The short line to get in. The sun halfwaybehind the Olympic Mountains, that magic glow that makes spray paint and punk band stickers slapped onto fence posts gorgeous. Then, it is joy. The older person with the “Folk Punk Made…
Born in the USA
Priya Subberwal I’m ten years old, in the back of the car. Dad is driving, my sister is next to me. The radio is on, and a song starts. A quick pattering of electric notes, echoing synths and rhythms. Next, banging chords on a piano, then the wailing of an electric guitar, then the pulsing…
[While Reading Vallejo Before The Gories / Timmy’s Organism Show]
Ian Lockaby Dear Timmy, Hello. I was just thinking How the crust of yr psyche must Split open a lot In fuzz. Last night, I slept with the a/c on (fuzz budding up in the filters) But it’s December In New Orleans and tonight You’re playing with the Organism & the Gories In the quarter,…
Diptych
Annaka Saari I. Imagine that there are many of you, all tongue and brain and taut body. Let me make braids of you all, tie their legs up with butcher’s twine. Let the air harden and soften what it will. I can tell the story of what I saw up north that summer, the frogs…