Tag: Worriers

AF 2017 IN REVIEW: Ten of the Year’s Best Albums By Trans Artists

In (yet another) year where coverage of trans lives vacillated between stories of hyper-visible trans people – wealthy “success” stories, wearied activists and advocates, public artists struggling through waves of aggression and hate – and mournful eulogies (22 trans women of color were murdered in 2017), it’s easy for some to forget that trans lives are, after all, lives. Paying attention to the minutia of trans days – the boredom filled, plans made, and art created – means extending empathy to those that many see only as dead or decorated bodies.

Binaried interest in trans lives is mirrored and facilitated by the two days each year set aside to think about them – Trans Day of Remembrance and Trans Day of Visibility. But trans folks need to be more than remembered or rendered visible. They need to be supported daily, given access to the resources and tools needed for survival. And so much of the art I loved in 2017 was made by trans folks.

Defining “trans artist” as an individual musician or band with one or more trans or non-binary members, I’ve collected ten 2017 albums I want to share with everyone I know. As I wrote about these releases I love, my chest expanded to be tender and open – my self filled with the deep and satisfying strength which comes from meaningful art. In other words, I felt very !!!!! while writing this list, and I hope listening to these artists will spark the same feeling in you.

Aye Nako – Silver Haze

Listening to Aye Nako feels like being hit in the gut and wrapped in warmth at the same time. The band makes hard-working, gritty music which is both empathetic and unapologetic, and Silver Haze – which takes on anti-blackness, safety, childhood friendship, and feeling disconnected – is no exception. Mars Dixon and Jade Payne split vocals on songs which are challenging and complex. Earlier this year, I got the chance to speak with Aye Nako about their new album. And months after Silver Haze was released, I’ve taken to carrying a black tourmaline in each of my back pants pockets.

AhMerAhSu – Rebecca

Rebecca is dreamy and compassionate. On it, Star Amerasu tackles addiction, transphobia, and grief with a remarkably soft and open approach. It’s a forgiving album, treating both speaker and listener more kindly than we often treat ourselves. Each time I turn to Rebecca, I am struck once again by the grace and lightness that AhMerAhSu imbues in her work, as well as the technical and exacting beauty of her production. The songs on Rebecca are silky and deftly spun; worth both learning from and leaning on.

Rainer Maria – S/T

Rainer Maria’s first release in eleven years, S/T is more than a reunion album. Like some of their earlier work, S/T features haunting vocal give-and-takes from Kaia Fischer and Caithlin De Marrais, accompanied by fantastically heavy instrumental arrangements. Every time I listen to this album, I feel the same kind of driving satisfaction I imagine I might get after punching a TERF in the mouth. S/T is intense and surprising, blooming new sonic details with each listen.

Shamir – Revelations

Revelations is Shamir’s first release on Father Daughter records, and marks a shift in the artist’s sound. The album is expansive and meandering, unfolding complicated, fractured emotions through lyrical development. Compared to earlier albums, instrumentation and production takes a backseat on Revelation, but Shamir’s voice more than makes up for it. It’s a deep well of an album; one that I return to, over and over again, to draw out hurt, joy, and inspiration.

Vivek Shraya – Part Time Woman

2017 was Vivek Shraya’s year! On top of releasing Part-Time Woman, Shraya’s first book of poetry, Even this Page is White, won a 2017 Publisher Triangle Award, her upcoming book I’m Afraid of Men was slated for publishing in Fall 2018, and she was featured on Tegan and Sara’s anniversary album, The Con X (as was Shamir, and about a dozen other queer artists worth checking out). Part-Time Woman, which features musical support from the Queer Songbook Orchestra, is smart and biting. Shraya skewers what she calls “the labour expected in order to be seen and valued as a woman,” exposing mechanisms of violent transmisogyny through her lyrics.


Adult Mom – Soft Spots

Soft Spots is warm and weepy; an album that I can’t help but hold close. Steph Knipe’s approach to their songs is careful and enduring, resulting in songs which cradle the listener. I had the chance to see Adult Mom play in San Francisco last summer, and the feeling of fullness and great joy I felt during that show reappears with each listen of Soft Spots. 

Worriers – Survival Pop

Listening to Worriers makes my whole body ache, and yet, somehow, it’s still fun. Survival Pop is like candy for folks who love pop punk, but also love listening to music about being non-binary. Though Lauren Denitzio’s lyrics are relentless, and occasionally even painful in their pointed honesty, the album is buoyed by fast and enthusiastic drum and guitar parts. Survival Pop is an album that asks to be danced to with abandon, desperately even. At the same time it sets itself up to be an educative tool for your mom.

Freya – The Brightest Ones

Released on Trans Day of Visibility, 2017, The Brightest Ones is soothing and imaginative. It offers world-building lyrics backed by sparkling electro-acoustic arrangements, as well as an endearing sense of personal intimacy. On her website, Freya notes when and where each song was written, offering a tender glimpse into the artist’s process.

Hirs – How to Stop Street Harassment

Hirs describe How to Stop Street Harassment as “ten songs about wanting to be left alone while minding our business being in public.” If you miss G.L.O.S.S. (and don’t we all?) this is the 2017 release for you. Hirs is a rotating collective of trans, queer musicians, and How to Stop Street Harassment is a brilliant manifesto in support of street safety for trans folks.

She/Her – Marigold

Chicago duo She/Her are triumphant on Marigold, wielding dysphoric and troubling lyrics with strength and precision. She/Her takes their time on the album, committing to varied instrumental movements and, in some cases, longer songs which build until it seems they might break. The opening instrumental track “Locust Street” is a gorgeous surprise which sets up the band’s attention to texture throughout the album.

INTERVIEW: Lauren Denitzio of Worriers vs. our Cootie Catcher

Worriers Cootie Catcher

At the second night of a three-part Don Giovanni showcase last Friday, we caught up with three of the New Brunswick-based punk label’s brightest and best.  We also decided to pioneer a new interviewing technique based on a popular children’s fortune telling game, using a folded paper “cootie-catcher” (or “saltcellar” or “chatterbox” or “whirlybird” or whatever you may have called it).

Worriers Cootie Catcher

Lauren Denitzio, lead singer of Worriers, isn’t at all squeamish about dealing with weighty concepts when it comes to songwriting.  Her band’s debut full-length, Cruel Optimist, draws from rich literal references, personal experiences, and the politics of being a feminist.  Denitzio’s words sometimes come across as a challenge to examine privilege, and she’s spent plenty of time here delving into her own and opening up about the conclusions she’s come to, without any heavy-handedness.  When taken together, the album’s overall feeling is one of exhilaration, energy, and inspiring call to action.  And her band, comprised of former bandmates from The Measure [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][sa] Tim Burke and Mikey Erg, as well as best friend Rachel Rubino on bass, is more than willing to back that up.

LAUREN PICKS CAT, 8, 4, 5 and gets the question: What’s more important, the personal or the political?

LD: Woah. That is a good question. Maybe I’ll say the personal because of the saying “the personal is political”.  Over the years, the way I’ve written songs comes from a very personal place, trying to find a way to use personal things that I write about to talk about other, political things. That’s what I try to have fun with, is writing about personal things that are cathartic for me to write about and sing about but they’re also talking about larger issues. And being able to bring that into the band without it being like “We are a POLITICAL BAND, and we’re going to sing about these things that are important to us but don’t necessarily relate directly to our personal lives.” So yeah, I’d say the personal. Because I think it can be more dynamic.

LAUREN PICKS GHOST, 6, 2, 7 and gets the question: What’s your favorite song from “Cruel Optimist”?

LD: I’ll say “Best Case Scenario” is my favorite one.  I think a lot of the songs maybe have more to them than face value, but I think “Best Case” is really fun to play, really fun to sing, and it’s also just a straight-up love song about my sweetheart, so I always really enjoy that one.

LAUREN PICKS GUITAR, 3, 9, 2 and gets the question: “Passion” is a reference to Jeanette Winterson, and there are lots of literary references on the record.  What’s a book you think everyone should read and if it happens to relate to your songs, how so?

LD: Well I feel like the obvious answer to this would be Cruel Optimism by Lauren Berlant. It’s kind of where the title for the record came from and I think that it’s a more theoretical, maybe a bit more academic book than say, Passion by Jeanette Winterson. But I think it’s an accessible read.  She talks about a lot of things that make a lot of sense to me in terms of how we define success and how people can be very attached to this mainstream, neo-liberal, everyone for themselves, very capitalist mentality of the quote-unquote good life – whatever that means to you.  And how detaching from that can bring about new possibilities. Regardless of the examples that she uses in the book, it has been really useful for me in both my artwork and music in thinking about how we construct our own worlds and our own lives based on goals that don’t have to do with what we’ve been told growing up or what the news wants to tell you is successful or the right life path. She also talks about how those things can be where living takes place, like in the pursuit of the good life. But I think it’s a really interesting book. I really love it, and love her writing and it’s a book I would hand to anyone.
AF: Do you think she knows that you named a record after her book?
LD: In fact I do know that, because her publisher, Duke University Press, found a link to the record online and links to it underneath her book on their website. It says, listen to the Worriers’ punk song “Cruel Optimist”.  And I’ve written to her and told her it was an inspiration and she approves. She likes the music, she thinks it’s rad. It gave me a reason to talk to someone I admire.  The record is Lauren Berlant approved.

LAUREN PICKS BEER, 2, 6, 3, and gets the question: How did you get involved with the folks at Don Giovanni?

LD: Well, the first band I was ever in, The Measure [sa], was based in New Brunswick, where Joe and the label are also based.  Most of the original Don Giovanni bands were from New Brunswick, so just through knowing people from New Brunswick, through my friendship with Joe. He’s just always been very supportive, and I think the focus of the label is really on the creative output of his friends, even though that’s kind of widening location-wise.
AF: So it’s sort of like a family?
LD: Definitely.

LAUREN PICKS GHOST, 3, 8, 4 and gets the question: Are you worried right now?  If so, what about?

LD: I’m worried about when we have to go on!  [laughs] But I’m not worried all the time.  I mean I think it definitely reflects a certain sensibility that I have sometimes. And that we as a band had when it started.  It’s a mix of just trying to humorous and actually being apprehensive.

LAUREN PICKS CAT, 7, 5, 6 and gets the question: How have the bands you’ve been in in the past shaped the current band you’re in?

LD: Well, I think it has definitely influenced the way I interact with other people I’m playing music with, especially because I’m really the only songwriter in this band.  It’s influenced how I respond to not having someone else consistently writing songs.  If I want there to be a range and don’t want everything to sound the same it’s kind of up to me to do that.  But I also have all these freedoms, and I feel like I paid my dues in other bands and really worked hard and put out a lot of records and really went for it.  Knowing that you can really play as many shows as you want and do it all the time, even as I am getting older or whatever, it’s a reminder that there’s really nothing stopping me from just making it happen.

LAUREN PICKS GUITAR, 3, 4, 9 and gets the question: If you were asked to take part in the Winter Olympics, which sport would you choose?

LD: Oh my god [laughing]. Well first off I wouldn’t participate in the Winter Olympics. The olympics are a very nationalist, problematic thing that I wouldn’t want to actually participate in. But, in terms of athletic prowess, you know, if you were asking me to participate in an athletic competition of such caliber –
AF: The Don Giovanni Winter Games.
LD: Yes! If I had all the athletic ability in the world, maybe snowboarding. Only because as a kid there was this Tony Hawk video game I would play, I think.  I feel like that would be like the “punk” sport. Or ski jumping maybe. I could never do either of these things. I would just be too scared. But in this universe where I am playing winter games, I am also not scared, so there we go.

And lastly: What’s the scariest thing about declaring yourself a feminist?
LD: Well I think in general, it is a scary concept to put your foot down about your own politics, especially if you’re using the word “feminist” around people who don’t identify that way or aren’t as familiar with it.  They may be a little scared of it or have preconceived notions about it. So I think it’s scary to try to hold your own when people want to attack you for that or don’t agree with you. It’s that way about any political belief, kind of. For me personally, I am not scared any more. I’ve had confrontations between friends, and on the internet, and wherever, where I’ve had to defend feminism or the things that I think because I consider myself a feminist. The scariest thing is just having to put out the emotional effort to have difficult discussions with people who you otherwise get along with, or to think that people are gonna judge you for that or any other thing that you do or say politically. Any time you make a big statement  that you can fully put your weight behind, you wonder if someone is gonna give you a hard time, or push back on it.  I just don’t care any more, and on the flip side it’s great to be able to be be like “Whatever man, this is how I feel” and I’m not gonna change because somebody doesn’t think it’s a popular thing.

Worriers Live Don Giovanni Showcase

That fearlessness comes across in the content of her music as well as her performance of it.  On stage, Denitzio’s lighthearted interactions with her bandmates belie the most serious subject matter.  The band rounded out selections from Cruel Optimism by revisiting work from 2011’s Past Lives EP and playing two songs from a 7″ single recently released on Berlin’s Yo-Yo Records titled Sinead O’Rebellion.  Denitzio’s unadorned vocal delivery is matter-of-fact, assured and refreshing, while Erg, Burke, and Rubino play with a classically indefatigable punk spirit, giving the sense that no one on stage is worried in the least.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

ALBUM REVIEW: Cruel Optimist

worriersCOcover

It’s a rare but exciting thing when you can tell you’re going to like an album within the first few seconds of listening to it; like getting a small gift when you’re least expecting it. Hearing the punchy electric guitar riff and Lauren Denitzio’s raw vocals laid atop a bedrock of noisy pop-punk in Cruel Optimist’s opening track felt, to me, very much like unwrapping a present. I was giddy and captivated pretty much immediately.

The short album—a mere eight tracks, none of which exceed the three minute mark—is the first full-length release by Brooklyn’s own Worriers, a pop-punk outfit that began as a side gig for Denitzio (also known as Lauren Measure, previously of The Measure [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][SA]). The band involves a rotating cast of characters, with Denitzio firmly at the center of the project as songwriter, guitarist, and vocalist. For Cruel Optimist, she recruited drummer Mikey Erg, bassist Tim Burke, and guitarist Rachel Rubino.

Though the album has a boisterous beginning, it quickly tones things down with its second track, “Precarity Rules.” Denitzio’s voice is particularly spotlighted in the subdued song as she delicately croons “Some things you didn’t see and some things I didn’t know / Except the joy and relief every time you came home,” deftly paired with a gauzy, high-pitched guitar riff. The chorus ditches the guitar riff, though, and trades it for gritty distortion as Denitzio gruffly declares “You’ll get to know me over my grave.” It’s these kinds of twists and turns in the narrative as well as the sound that permeate the entire album and keep things interesting throughout.

“Passion,” the third track, makes another 180, punching up the tempo and adopting power chords and a jumpy, ska-influenced guitar that brings the Dance Hall Crashers or early No Doubt to mind. But the true highlight of the album is its fifth track, “Never Were.” It’s passionate and powerful and fun—the kind of pop punk song that elicits air drumming and mild head banging—but the chorus is sweetly earnest, with Denitzio singing “I keep reminding myself I make mistakes all the time…Here’s to promises we try to keep.” The promises she’s talking about are the ones she made to her “radical politics” from an early age, and how they’ve evolved as she grew up from simply “being bored and angry with nothing to lose.” She touches on personal privilege growing up (“Parents won’t let me work so I could get good grades”) and acknowledges how it facilitated her participation in “social protest” and “anarcho-feminism,” all in a way that’s remarkably grounded.

The album’s careening energy lasts right up until the last second, swerving from undeniably catchy and melodic hooks to noisy distortion and back again. Combined with Denitzio’s vaguely Dolores O’Riordan-esque manner of singing and the record’s melange of thoughtfully written lyrics, both personal and political, the overall package is a solid winner. This is the kind of album that begs for multiple successive replays, not only to unravel its many meanings and stories but also just to rock out to. You’d be a fool to deny it.

[fusion_soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/109812166″ params=”color=ff6600&auto_play=false&show_artwork=true” width=”100%” height=”166″ iframe=”true” /][/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]