Hamilton Punk/Hardcore: No (wo)Man's Land?

HEY LET'S TALK ABOUT SEXISM IN THE HAMILTON PUNK SCENE 

Don't you dare get your dick in a knot over me bringing up gender issues (because if you do, you're a fuckface), but I'm not gonna sugarcoat my opinion here: I'm not impressed by the embarrasing 100% complete lack of any female representation in this documentary short (as in, there is literally not a single female-identified person in this whole video except for maaaybe a quick glimpse of an audience member or something). I know it's just a silly little independent doc and perhaps I'm being a tad over-sensitive in that respect, but this video brings up a very important issue that is all too often glossed over. Microcosmic example of a macrocosmic problem (and not just in the Hamilton punk scene, obviously). The issue of sexism in punk (and music in general) is extremely important to me and understandably close to my heart, even if I'm not overly vocal about it all the time, and I'm going to discuss it even if it seems trivial to some people because actually, it's NOT a trivial thing.

Yes, many of the guys I know here are progressive and have feminist leanings and make a sincere effort to help quash sexism in our scene. They are allies, they are aware and self-critical of their own male privilege, they are intelligent and supportive of women's rights and are just awesome men in general. This is especially true of the incredible dudes I played with in my old band (Dismantle). But, because they are men and they still benefit from that privilege, they are still often blind to this problem because it is not presented to them almost every day of their lives. That's the way privilege works. Even if you support an ideal, it is still so easy to forget about others' struggles because you are not faced with that struggle every day the way they are. 

There aren't many current female musicians in the punk/hc scene here, but there are some. As an obvious example, I personally was in two punk bands who were very active during this time period, including one that was part of this particular corner of the scene, with some of the dudes in this video. Example the second - since a scene is made of more than just musicians and bands, I'll bring up the fact that one of the two owners/punk savants of the record shop featured in this video is a woman. Pretty lame to just leave women out all together. If you really wanted to make a documentary that fully represented the Hamilton punk/hc scene, you might include some of the many insanely talented, fucking awesome female artists/photographers/promoters/zine makers/etc. who contribute regularly and heavily to the scene. You might interview some of the rabid and dedicated local punk fans who are of the female persuasion (I could suggest at least ten right off the top of my head who would be fantastic and suitable interviewees) and not just males. Just a helpful suggestion for next time.

Also, I promise you, there aren't only 3 punk/hardcore bands in Hamilton. This perhaps should have been titled "Snake Charmer + TV Freaks + Born Wrong" instead of "Hamilton Punk and Hardcore," HOWEVER these bands are all excellent at what they do, work super hard, represent the fuck out of Hamilton and are full of rad dudes. Much, much love to all of those guys.

Worth watching to get a feel for things, but this is only scratching the surface of this city's vibrant, thriving and legendary punk scene. Rather than an actual documentary, this is more like a snapshot of a specific moment in time in Hamilton's punk history. 

Still... more chicks next time. Thanks. 

random 8am mumblings.

the thing about waking up from lifelong ignorance is that once you see something, you can't unsee it. once you know, you can't not know. the injustice, the inherent harm of capitalism, the absolute corruption, the racism and inequality weaved into the fabric of our society by way of programmed fear, the greed, the hatred, the fucking inhumanity… once it all becomes apparent, and you look into the raging, black eye of the machine, you can never be blissfully ignorant ever again, and that's why so many of us choose to remain willfully unaware. "i don't follow politics. did you see last night's episode of Dexter?" because even though deep down, way in the bottom of our hearts we know the whole world is paying the price for our privilege, it is so much more convenient for us to keep living our lives the way we're used to, follow the yellow brick road, turn a blind eye, drink your espresso and eventually die without having to face ourselves, without having to make real use of our most precious virtue, and the only virtue common to our entire species  - our humanity. 

"Dead Man's Boner," or, "How Ryan Gosling wormed his way into my panties: a short story."

The other night, after a long, perfectly lovely day of wine, music, giggles, and other peoples' animals, my man friend and I were in bed, smack dab in the middle of a very pleasant boner-trading session, when he looks at me and says, with a charming grin on his face: "Guess who we're listening to right now," referring to the music in the background, which by that point had become a warm swirl of random notes and frequencies licking softly at my eardrums, and resonating in other more uh... squishy parts of my body. So I took a moment to listen and considered it. The voice didn't sound familiar at all, but I was enjoying the haunting melodies and creepy back-up children's choir. 

"Hmm... I'm really not sure," I said.

"...Ryan Gosling! Ha ha!"

"... yeah right."

Oh, The Gos (our lady-killing patron saint of James North? http://hamiltonryangosling.tumblr.com - lest we forget). He always seems to find a way into people's pants one way or another, doesn't he? And that night, sweaty and naked and none the wiser... he found his way into mine. I guess that's what happens when you're a smooth operator: girls who wouldn't look twice at you seem to find themselves unwittingly victims of your deceitful charms.

Some girls at that point would have probably closed their eyes and silently swooned, maybe imagining some scene from The Notebook, privately wishing our titular Romeo in place of their partner. Instead, I giggled at the absurdity of it all, trying to shoo Ryan Gosling's smarmy, brooding badger face out of my mind and get back to the (much handsomer) one in front of me. 

As hilarious as it was (and as dirty and violated as I felt), his music is, I loathe to say... actually pretty fucking amazing and lovely! If you love Timber Timbre as much as I do, you'll love this.

                                                       Dead Man's Bones - "My Body's A Zombie For You":

...But that doesn't mean I want him smarming his way into my panties. Goddamnit, you don't own every girl's vagina, Gosling! You and your perfectly sexy bedroom music, why I oughta... I f*cking hate you.

By the way, a gosling is a baby goose. That's right. A baby goose. Not so sexy now, is it? Unless you put a wind-swept dirty blonde wig on it and give it a v-neck t-shirt.

(For the record, Lars and the Real Girl is a really, really amazing movie. Okay?)

Also, this video is super great:

i heart ny.

Hi everyone.

I am in Brooklyn, half asleep in a rental car on a road called I think "Wythe Road". Just saw Kid Congo Powers play an incredible set at a place called the Brooklyn Bowl, totally on a whim. What a great venue; best luck in the universe. I think I'm already in love with NYC. And I've only been here less than 5 hours.
Ian is passed out beside me. Poor guy. Long, beautiful, fun drive out here. Went to a really cool bar earlier called the Library. I think we're going back again before we leave.

I'm only writing this because I'm a night owl, even though I only got about 4 hours of sleep last night. Tattoo party at some point this weekend. Some parts of NY remind me of Hamilton, but I don't miss it... At least not yet.

Cheers, and here's to an amazing fucking weekend, for us and for you.

Your favourite jackass,
L.

fracture theory.

It's bizarre that for as long as I loved you, I have virtually no photographs of you.
Almost as if you were merely a figment of my imagination.

An incredibly amazing dream, so powerful my heart could burst. A dark, stormy nightmare; one that I just couldn't seem to wake up from.

You were no ghost.
Your eyes were like tentacles, reaching into me and spreading me open. Your presence in my life was a cataclysm of proportions you can't imagine.
Wiping ash on my face after the fire subsided. That's no way to say goodbye.
That's not the kind of life I dreamed of for us.

I lied, there is one picture that I clearly remember. You are pretending to sleep on a large rock.
You always hid your face.
There were more. My memory misled me. But they are lost somewhere. In a box? In a fire? In the wind?

Maybe you were a ghost. I could never quite catch you.
I tried so goddamn hard.
Fading in and out. I remember all of the static that surrounded us.

I spoke in short sentences around you. I didn't want to give too much away.
But you took everything, anyway.
Electricity is a fickle child. Jolted awake but burned. An open-heart orgasm is no match for your pavlovian tricks.

The only thing I have to remember you by, still, is the picture I drew of you.
It's fuzzy and grey. You aren't looking at me. You're looking somewhere off in the distance.
It's probably better off like that because it makes you seem further away.
I've got you just where I want you. Just where I need you to be.
Somewhere in the distance, crackling branches in the night, asleep on a bed of bones.
We keep our distance on purpose. We hide our scissors, we fold pages in the right places.

Maybe you are a ghost. I've got no more proof of you. Just my drawing.
Just my fear, and the way I stutter when I talk about you.
And the ashes on my cheek that never seem to wipe clean.

I guess this is the way I say goodbye.

(written in November 2009)

babel.

Your Tower of Babel came tumbling down,
I turned my cheek and walked away.
Bite your tongue,
you've said enough,
I should have never come this way.

my top ten albums of oh nine.

10. Sleepy Sun - Embrace




09. Heartless Bastards - The Mountain




08. Kylesa - Static Tensions




07. Dan Auerback - Keep It Hid




06. AA Bondy - When The Devil's Loose




05. Jay Reatard - Watch Me Fall




04. Lovvers - OCD GO GO GIRLS!




03. Fever Ray - Fever Ray




02. Wavves - Wavves




01. Dead Weather - Horehound (by a long shot)




Honourable mentions go to: Baroness "Blue album," Asteroids Galaxy Tour "Fruit," Beach House "Devotion," Future of the Left "Travels With Myself and Another," Municipal Waste "Massive Aggression," Crocodiles "Summer of Hate," The Sadies "Country Club," Neon Indian "Psychic Chasms," and Doomriders "Darkness Come Alive".

snow white masochist

This might be one of the most beautiful, amazing porn videos I've ever seen in my life:

http://www.tnaflix.com/view_video.php?viewkey=486be71b957e17dd996d

I actually got a bit emotional watching it.
Everything about that video is so heart-wrenchingly beautiful. Her realness, her desperation, her wonderful secret solo masochism ritual. It touched me* on a very profound, personal level that kind of gutted me a little bit.

I wish I knew more about this girl.
I saw myself in her.
She just made my night.

intergalatic revelry

Today's stellar sight from the Hubble Space Telescope advent calendar is a close-up of Omega Centauri cluster, which is located in the constellation Centaurus. There are over ten million stars in the entire cluster - pictured here are only about two million of them.

This photograph took my breath away. My obsession with space and all of its glorious contents makes my eyes glitter with amazement all the time, but I thought this photo was particularly captivating - it resembles an ethereal snowfall, which seemed appropriate, due to the fact that my city received its first snow of the season today. It wasn't much, and it was wet, but it was a small glimpse of what's in store for the next few months, and I couldn't help but be filled with the same feelings an 8-year-old might feel in the same situation.

Bring on the snowfall, and let the stars take my heart.

glamour in the hammer.

I attended the Hamilton Music Awards ceremony this past Sunday with my lovely friend Lasha. It was my first time, and I was honoured to attend. Kinda felt like I was showing a little representation for the bar I work at, who by the way, won Best Live Venue at the industry awards the day before. Go Team Hollywood!

Lasha's husband's band, The Vapids, won a long-overdue award for "Best Punk Recording," for their 45" "The Point Remains The Same." She went up and accepted the award for them, stating that "The Vapids couldn't be here tonight - they're on tour in Japan" (they weren't) and went on to thank herself and drummer Scotty's girlfriend Lisa for being "the best band wives." That girl is a hoot. Congrats to The Vapids, and also to Monster Truck, who took home the award for "Best Loud/Metal Recording," and who were also hilariously awkward onstage in their flannel and beards.

Anyway, I'd recap the highlights of the evening, but they include less awards show hob-nobbing and more post-awards beer and cigarettes at a friend's house. Not a late night - to a lot of us girls, the most long-awaited part of a fun evening out is just getting home and prying off those fucking heels.

wild fire

Today is a good day.
Today is a good day.
Today is a good day.
Today is a good day.
Today is a good day.
Today is a great day.

1:12pm, the 19th of November - Thursday

I'm so bored.
I'm the Chairman of the Bored.
My hair has kinks in it from the night before.
It's grey outside. I can see two bikes from my vantage point.
I just stood by my bedroom door and peered in for a bit to watch my cat sleep.
Other things I can see from where I sit:
three lighters
three lights
one glass of water
four cameras
chapstick
an empty plate of food
dirty eyeglasses
two boxes of white christmas lights
a keyboard
six altar candles
four guitars
paperwork (only half filled-out)
a metal beer stein
cigarette butts in a sea of ash
The song I'm listening to just started skipping.
Maybe it has some backwards satanic message.
Maybe I should listen to what it's telling me.
Oh, it's just a recipe for shortbread cookies.
The meteor shower ended this morning.
I didn't see a single star.
An old band from my youth just came over the speakers
and I had flashbacks of teenagers and zines and crowded halls.
As I was saying, I didn't see a single star.
Let alone a meteor.
Most days I curse living in a booming metropolitan area
because all I really want in life is to be able to see the stars.

I'm still looking for some meaning in the day-to-day.
And every night I look to the moon.

albums of the day: nov 17 09

Black Mountain's "In The Future"

My favourite jams being "Wucan," "Queens Will Play," and "Stormy High."
Perfect album for a smoked out afternoon just like the one I'm rockin' today. It has just the right amount of ambient transcendence, juxtaposed by bone-crushingly slow riffs.

Perfect listening for: a satanic orgy, getting stoned in the forest, playing a videogame about extraterrestrials.


Air's "Premiers Symptomes"

Some say that Air have perfected "la musique de chambre," and I can't bring myself to disagree. Lulls you into the sweetest limbo between lustful and the most relaxed state you've ever tasted.

The best tracks: "Brakes On" for its hip-hop meet early Chemical Brothers sensibility, and "J'ai dormi sous l'eau," which is like a sailboat ride on a rainbow superhighway, traveling in slow-motion and hyperspeed all at once, twisting throughout the cosmic curves of the Milky Way.

meet the author//subways.

this is not a sober face.

people are fragile, desperate, glued-together, sweating, sleeping, living beings clamouring to find their place, always lost and wandering, generating electricity and heat and making each other's arm hairs stand up on end. nubile, nervous, awkward and sexual. i lose my breath when i remember the way certain people used to make me feel and i love that no one can ever take those memories from me. i sigh with relief thinking about the way some of the creatures in my life tickle me right on my bones every day without thinking, without reason.
we are walking our paths, every day, crossing the paths of our neighbours and our future lovers and our distant pasts and our parents' parents, giving each other shivers and passing tiny electrical currents back and forth like ping pong.

best news of my life!

From the Faith No More Facebook page...


"Faith No More's Official Return

Today at 6:47pm
The official statement from the band:

Faith No More has always stood out as some sort of unique beast; part dog, part cat--its music almost as schizophrenic as the personalities of its members. When it all worked, it worked really well, even if the chemistry was always volatile. Throughout our 17 years of existence, the mental and physical energy required to sustain this creature was considerable and relentless. Though amicable enough, when we finally split, we all followed paths seemingly destined to opposite ends of the universe.

Yet during the entire 10 years that have passed since our decision to break up we've experienced constant rumors and requests from fans and promoters alike. Nevertheless, for whatever reason, none of us kept in regular touch, much less to discuss any possibilities of getting together.

What's changed is that this year, for the first time, we've all decided to sit down together and talk about it. And what we've discovered is that time has afforded us enough distance to look back on our years together through a clearer lens and made us realize that through all the hard work, the music still sounds good, and we are beginning to appreciate the fact that we might have actually done something right.

Meanwhile we find ourselves at a moment in time with zero label obligations, still young and strong enough to deliver a kickass set, with enthusiasm to not only revisit our past but possibly add something to the present. And so with this we've decided to hold our collective breaths and jump off this cliff....
BACK, GOD FORBID, INTO THE MONKEY CAGE!!!

We can only hope that the experience of playing together again will yield results erratic and unpredictable enough to live up to the legacy of FNM.
Who know where this will end or what it will bring up...only the future knows. But we are about to find out!

FAITH NO MORE are:
Mike Bordin, Roddy Bottum, Bill Gould, Jon Hudson and Mike Patton"



!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
slk;dfja;sdjf;asdjfla.ksdjf;asdjflkas/

THIS PART:
"with enthusiasm to not only revisit our past but possibly add something to the present."

MAKES ME DIE!!!

My heart is racing, I AM SO HAPPY.
So happy.
Freaking out.

8 going on 80

I just had a realization: I am Benjamin Button.

When I was a kid, I did line-dancing (for 2 years!), I cross-stitched, and I did folk-art painting (I even took a weekly class with a bunch of middle-aged ladies). My two favourite shows for a few years were Golden Girls and Empty Nest. It wasn't until I hit 13 and I drank my first beer that the beast was freed.

Why was I an 80-year old adolescent???

malpractice.

I don't know what to do with myself.
There are slivers in my fingertips.
I can't sleep
and I want to be somewhere that isn't here.

Why am I lonely?
I'm very drunk and my head is pounding.

Jamaica can't come fast enough. I need time away with myself.
It feels like I'm always waiting
for whatever will finally make me feel satisfied and happy in my life.
I hope it comes soon because I'm so tired.

teenage rampage.

I'm fucking bored and everyone sucks! Boo to your moms.


It's almost 3 am and I am still awake writing nonsense. I guess it's time to drag my stupid ass to bed. Things feel boring and "on pause" lately. Why?
I want to play music and I'm sick of not doing it. Maybe now that Dave and I have a room basically dedicated to making music, I will actually start to whip up some tunes.

Let's party or something. It's supposed to be Rocktober and so far it feels more like Not-tober.


Go jump in front of a train!

robots are invading my house.

Dave and I are getting a drum machine tomorrow! YESSSSS!!!


Fuck yeah dudes, Charlie Sheen is on a train to Awesometown now.
Stay tuned, Pat Boone. Riggity-rowwww.

Ps. I REALLY REALLY REALLY want to go to JOURNEY/CHEAP TRICK/HEART.................. at the Molson Amphitheater, but decent tickets are like $150 and up! AUGGGGHHHHHH ("Cathy" styles). IT IS SO WORTH IT. But I just have such a hard time justifying spending that much money on concert tickets unless it's for a Faith No More/Ramones mega-back-from-the-dead super show... :(

BOO.

enuff z-nuff.

People of the world: please stop describing experiences as "organic".

"The process of creating our new album was totally organic..."
"It was very organic, the way I came to that realization."
"Everything about the whole experience was very organic."
"I didn't think there was anything wrong with jacking off onto a dog's back; it happened very organically."

STOP. I'm going to throw something that I think is pretty "organic" at your face if I hear this stupid fucking word one more time.