hey hi hello

two things:

1. (most importantly) there’s a new episode of ’77 music club out in the world for you to listen to. we’ve been slower than usual this fall, but mostly because we’re hella busy irl and producing these takes so much work and time that we’d rather give you a few quality episodes than a bunch of shitty ones. anyway. this time, we’re talking about neneh cherry’s 1989 raw like sushi. it’s a dope episode. check it out.

2. i’ve updated my writing samples page! i’ve had this site since i was literally 22 years old, which is both “wow” and *cringe.* it needed cleaned up so badly, so i did that. finally. there, you can find a ton of my work, arranged by broad topic and date in a super easy to read way. enjoy, if you’re into that kind of archive digging. or if you want to hire me to write things for you. idk. i don’t know your life.

jane-fonda-one-fair-wage

Let’s 🥖 get 🥖 this 🥖 bread 🥖

Did you know the federal minimum wage for tipped restaurant workers is $2.13? How about the fact that 70% of restaurant workers are women? What about the alarming rate of sexual harassment charges filed by women restaurant workers  — the EEOC has targeted the restaurant industry as the single largest source of sexual harassment charges, with a rate FIVE TIMES higher than any other industry.

It was such an invigorating experience to hear Jane Fonda (one of my heroes, and the person who inspired my own political & feminist awakening at 14), ROC United founder Saru Jayaraman, and more speak about #OneFairWage today, particularly because this isn’t JUST an economic issue. It’s a WOMEN’S RIGHTS issue. As Ms. Jayaraman said: “When you pay a sub minimum wage to an industry that is primarily made up of women, it indicates the value you place on women.”

Seven states have passed one fair wage (and saw a direct correlation between fair wages and a drop in sexual harassment charges); New York could be next. Seriously urge you to visit onefairwage.com for more info, because we all deserve a fair shot at securing the bag. ✊

ay yo, two new episodes of ’77 music club are live right now and they could not be more radically different:

season 3, episode 3: joe walsh’s the smoker you drink, the player you get
in which we talk about joe walsh’s surprisingly eclectic musical influences, recognize the contributions of his backing band, lol about how he is an irl meme, and so much more

season 3, episode 4: nico’s the marble index
in which we’re back on our bullshit about trailblazing women, discussing how radical nico’s agency and aesthetic were in 1968, this album’s difficult themes, and what makes it so influential to the goth rock genre

Kim Gordon and the power of female rage

kim-gordon-elsewhere

A friend of mine recently told me the story of his one and only encounter with Kim Gordon. A few summers ago, he was playing with a band on a small European tour; their dates dovetailed around ones Gordon was playing with her then-new band Body/Head. The experimental noise guitar duo had yet to release a full album, but their EP and few shows — combined with the curiosity of seeing what Kim Gordon would do post-Sonic Youth — had people talking. One hot night on a rooftop in Germany, he and his bandmates finally got a chance to see what all the fuss was about.

He watched Gordon drone intermittently over the dissonance coming from the guitars she and bandmate Bill Nace played. It was slow, but built to a furor, Gordon desperately choking out random words and phrases like “the last mistress” as she wailed away on her guitar. When all was said and done, she was spent, barely able to leave the stage without some assistance.

“Wow,” my friend said, slightly confused by what he just watched. “Was she on drugs?”
“No,” one of his bandmates — a woman not much older than Gordon herself — shushed him. “She’s just very, very sad.”

I think about this story a lot. I think about how our anguish can be unleashed in music, and how an emotional release is easily expressed in a melody or a verse, but harder to comprehend in abstract noise.

I think about how Gordon’s feelings were so much easier for a woman to see and understand, while my friend later dismissed it as “college shit.” Of course Gordon was expressing pain, an intricate sort of pain and anger that many women, particularly as they age, could empathize with deeply in their bones. Gordon and her husband of more than 25 years, Thurston Moore, had officially divorced just months earlier. Their split had been messy, humiliating, and disappointing for many who had seen their lasting union as a beacon of hope, leaving them instead with a feeling that their idols had failed them. Her identity had morphed into one half of a couple, and here she was figuring out who she was on her own again.

Of course she was sad. Of course she was angry. And of course her complex grief continued to pour out in a furious manner on stage over the following years.

Read the rest on bed crumbs.