 | ¨Separating those who identify with the title of “punk rock” from the original ideals of the movement is a slippery slope.¨-Bella Coles |
The argument of whether punk is “dead” or not, has been a topic of conversation nearly since the beginning of the subculture. People who were around for the beginnings of the subculture often critique the punks of the current generation for not having the morals the community originally did, or the activism. Then there’s the question of the music, whether new bands are producing new material, or have the drive to. Like anything easily accessible, the image of punk has become something easily marketable, stores such as Hot Topic making the look of punk a mere fashion choice, rather than the DIY ethic. There is no clear definition of what punk is or isn’t. Separating those who identify with the title of “punk rock” from the original ideals of the movement is a slippery slope.
When I was twelve, my inner turmoil and angst resulted in the discovery of bands like Bikini Kill, Choking Victim, Operation Ivy, and The Clash. This was exciting, there was now an outlet in my life that combined social justice with music in a way that felt communal and excepting. I loved when Kathleen Hanna screamed about sexism. I loved the upbeat ska punk that Operation Ivy delivered. I love all of these things. Punk became my identity. Ironically, I was unaware that while defying the “norms” I was simultaneously stitching myself into another way of conforming.
The first time I went to a local punk show, I was thirteen. My mom went with me, as she had her fears that I would “get in with the wrong crowd”, or do drugs or get harassed by an older boy. I remember thinking that these were irrational fears, how in any way could any of these ideas possibly happen within a community that preached about feminism, anti racism, and social change? As I got more involved in the scene over the next couple of years, it became clear to me that just because someone wore a patch that said “Kill All Rapists” or something about being anti police, it was naive to believe that these morals were upheld outside of looking punk.
When I was twelve, my inner turmoil and angst resulted in the discovery of bands like Bikini Kill, Choking Victim, Operation Ivy, and The Clash. This was exciting, there was now an outlet in my life that combined social justice with music in a way that felt communal and excepting. I loved when Kathleen Hanna screamed about sexism. I loved the upbeat ska punk that Operation Ivy delivered. I love all of these things. Punk became my identity. Ironically, I was unaware that while defying the “norms” I was simultaneously stitching myself into another way of conforming.
The first time I went to a local punk show, I was thirteen. My mom went with me, as she had her fears that I would “get in with the wrong crowd”, or do drugs or get harassed by an older boy. I remember thinking that these were irrational fears, how in any way could any of these ideas possibly happen within a community that preached about feminism, anti racism, and social change? As I got more involved in the scene over the next couple of years, it became clear to me that just because someone wore a patch that said “Kill All Rapists” or something about being anti police, it was naive to believe that these morals were upheld outside of looking punk.
Stemming from Britain in the 1970s, punk was originally formed as a way to protest the injustice in authority and advocating for the middle and lower class. Since its spread to America and other parts of the world, these aspects haven’t completely been lost. The riot grrrl movement in the 90s happened twenty years after the birth of the punk. One is still able to go to a punk club in Berkeley and hear artists with political messages in their songs. This is something I have always appreciated within the punk movement.
I spent Valentine's day of 2014 at a show, and instead of commercialism and candy, I talked to the violinist of a folk punk duo about how 50 Shades Of Grey was a misogynistic portrayal of relationships. These are the things within punk that are beneficial, you get a group of people together in a room who like rock music, and social justice. If you’re in a band, or making a zine condemning police brutality, in no way can I claim that this isn’t beneficial. This was why punk started, to bridge art and anger around social justice.
There’s constructive productive anger, and there is also useless anger. Useless anger can correlate with the idea of ‘teen angst’. One of the heaviest influences of the music of punk was and is anger. Without it, there would’ve never been the fast guitars and heavy drums that characterize punk’s sound. It’s fair to say that without anger, punk really would never have had the impact it did.
Anger can act as a stimulus for activism, or it can be misdirected and fueled into self destructive tendencies. It’s sometimes easier to to turn to alcohol or drugs because you’re pissed at whatever, than to actually have productive action. These are all things I have seen happen in the constraints of the punk community.
However, punks often assimilate their anger to activism. It wouldn’t be fair to dismiss all of this as unproductive, as it isn’t. There are people in the punk community who are also actively protesting police brutality, or calling out abusers in the scene. These are productive reactions to anger, and ones that aren’t harming anyone or themselves.
On the flip side, I have also seen people who are angry at their parents, or their school, and claim to be activists because they’ve posted on social media about hating cops, and wear an upside down american flag back patch. Alright, that’s great you hate cops. Why don’t you go to a protest, or support a local cause that is fighting the things you claim to hate, instead of just getting drunk and keying cars for no reason?
There’s also an elitism that comes with punk. On one end, punk is an outlet to be you, to be creative in the way you dress and not care what people think. DIY (do it yourself) is a big pillar in punk, the reason why so many punks wear homemade leather jackets and patch pants. With this, you also get people known as “fashion punks.” Suddenly, how punk you look and act is reflective of how much you fit into the scene, and this creates a type of playground bullying. It becomes a popularity contest to be the punkest of them all. The issue of who is the most “punk” becomes the topic of conversation, rather than fighting for social change. If one of the leading morals of punk is to be yourself, it’s awfully contradicting to judge people based on their looks.
Poverty is also prevalent in the punk scene. Stereotypes such as the ‘gutter punk’ have arisen due to this, and while poverty is inevitable in almost any social setting, you get kids who are so preoccupied with being the most “punk” that they ignore their privilege and place themselves in situations they don’t need to be in. I’ve seen upper-middle class kids who come from affluent healthy households willingly live on the streets or squat in houses with their friends, and often get involved in serious drugs because it epitomises a lifestyle and look they desire. In reality, however, they have a safe household to return to anytime they want.
It is insensitive to those who are on the streets because they have no other option. To equate living on the streets voluntarily to someone who does so because they can’t afford a home, goes against everything punks allegedly protest. The romanticization of poverty in the punk scene stems merely from discomfort with privilege. What does one gain from that? Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to be aware and admit to your privilege rather than to hide it?
Almost a full circle, but with the combination of not recognizing privilege and useless anger, you get a lot of your average angsty teens, or people who are only involved in the scene because of the music. My mother was right when I started going to shows, there are creepy men who lay low in safe space communities because it’s easy to fall in the shadows. I have had my encounters with the punk white male, who claims the police oppress him, or that he’s a feminist, when in reality he’s preying on younger girls and he’s never actually faced oppression because of his race.
Nobody will call him out either, because he’s friends with the community. This creates a false idea of a ‘safe space’, and raises the question to those who call themselves advocates. How can you be friends with someone who is a sexual predator, while you call yourself a feminist? This is where the unproductive anger falls into line, because in that scenario, you aren’t forming activists. You’re generating angry macho male ideas and perpetuating internalized misogyny. It’s important to note that the Riot Grrrl movement was formed in response to this.
At the end of the day, however, there are parts of the punk movement that are really beneficial. Maybe the reason the movement hasn’t completely died out is due to those who are committed to running nonprofit music venues and continuously writing protest songs and going to protests. This is definitely still happening, it just isn’t the majority of punk. Whether punk is alive or not, the root of the question belongs to the members of the community itself.
I have watched teens throw their lives away and get into hard drugs simply because that’s what everyone else was doing, and they wanted to fit into a community that preaches acceptance. But when does punk end? When does the bridge between messing around and going to shows turn into adulthood? Punk is great for when you’re figuring things out and where you belong, but it’s a slippery slope to stay on the side that isn’t just useless anger. Instead of arguing about whether the movement is dead or not, maybe people should start checking themselves on what they do to keep up with their morals, rather than just putting a patch on their jacket.
I spent Valentine's day of 2014 at a show, and instead of commercialism and candy, I talked to the violinist of a folk punk duo about how 50 Shades Of Grey was a misogynistic portrayal of relationships. These are the things within punk that are beneficial, you get a group of people together in a room who like rock music, and social justice. If you’re in a band, or making a zine condemning police brutality, in no way can I claim that this isn’t beneficial. This was why punk started, to bridge art and anger around social justice.
There’s constructive productive anger, and there is also useless anger. Useless anger can correlate with the idea of ‘teen angst’. One of the heaviest influences of the music of punk was and is anger. Without it, there would’ve never been the fast guitars and heavy drums that characterize punk’s sound. It’s fair to say that without anger, punk really would never have had the impact it did.
Anger can act as a stimulus for activism, or it can be misdirected and fueled into self destructive tendencies. It’s sometimes easier to to turn to alcohol or drugs because you’re pissed at whatever, than to actually have productive action. These are all things I have seen happen in the constraints of the punk community.
However, punks often assimilate their anger to activism. It wouldn’t be fair to dismiss all of this as unproductive, as it isn’t. There are people in the punk community who are also actively protesting police brutality, or calling out abusers in the scene. These are productive reactions to anger, and ones that aren’t harming anyone or themselves.
On the flip side, I have also seen people who are angry at their parents, or their school, and claim to be activists because they’ve posted on social media about hating cops, and wear an upside down american flag back patch. Alright, that’s great you hate cops. Why don’t you go to a protest, or support a local cause that is fighting the things you claim to hate, instead of just getting drunk and keying cars for no reason?
There’s also an elitism that comes with punk. On one end, punk is an outlet to be you, to be creative in the way you dress and not care what people think. DIY (do it yourself) is a big pillar in punk, the reason why so many punks wear homemade leather jackets and patch pants. With this, you also get people known as “fashion punks.” Suddenly, how punk you look and act is reflective of how much you fit into the scene, and this creates a type of playground bullying. It becomes a popularity contest to be the punkest of them all. The issue of who is the most “punk” becomes the topic of conversation, rather than fighting for social change. If one of the leading morals of punk is to be yourself, it’s awfully contradicting to judge people based on their looks.
Poverty is also prevalent in the punk scene. Stereotypes such as the ‘gutter punk’ have arisen due to this, and while poverty is inevitable in almost any social setting, you get kids who are so preoccupied with being the most “punk” that they ignore their privilege and place themselves in situations they don’t need to be in. I’ve seen upper-middle class kids who come from affluent healthy households willingly live on the streets or squat in houses with their friends, and often get involved in serious drugs because it epitomises a lifestyle and look they desire. In reality, however, they have a safe household to return to anytime they want.
It is insensitive to those who are on the streets because they have no other option. To equate living on the streets voluntarily to someone who does so because they can’t afford a home, goes against everything punks allegedly protest. The romanticization of poverty in the punk scene stems merely from discomfort with privilege. What does one gain from that? Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to be aware and admit to your privilege rather than to hide it?
Almost a full circle, but with the combination of not recognizing privilege and useless anger, you get a lot of your average angsty teens, or people who are only involved in the scene because of the music. My mother was right when I started going to shows, there are creepy men who lay low in safe space communities because it’s easy to fall in the shadows. I have had my encounters with the punk white male, who claims the police oppress him, or that he’s a feminist, when in reality he’s preying on younger girls and he’s never actually faced oppression because of his race.
Nobody will call him out either, because he’s friends with the community. This creates a false idea of a ‘safe space’, and raises the question to those who call themselves advocates. How can you be friends with someone who is a sexual predator, while you call yourself a feminist? This is where the unproductive anger falls into line, because in that scenario, you aren’t forming activists. You’re generating angry macho male ideas and perpetuating internalized misogyny. It’s important to note that the Riot Grrrl movement was formed in response to this.
At the end of the day, however, there are parts of the punk movement that are really beneficial. Maybe the reason the movement hasn’t completely died out is due to those who are committed to running nonprofit music venues and continuously writing protest songs and going to protests. This is definitely still happening, it just isn’t the majority of punk. Whether punk is alive or not, the root of the question belongs to the members of the community itself.
I have watched teens throw their lives away and get into hard drugs simply because that’s what everyone else was doing, and they wanted to fit into a community that preaches acceptance. But when does punk end? When does the bridge between messing around and going to shows turn into adulthood? Punk is great for when you’re figuring things out and where you belong, but it’s a slippery slope to stay on the side that isn’t just useless anger. Instead of arguing about whether the movement is dead or not, maybe people should start checking themselves on what they do to keep up with their morals, rather than just putting a patch on their jacket.
