january 2019
coco & clair clair album review part time show review pale waves show review sleeping in poem the big lebowski situation art kill surf city review ready now album review slator blacc article in the new year playlist diy or die article the districts photo essay jack pfeffer photo essay
contents
Hey. Thanks for reading Goth Grrrl. As both a musician and a writer, after one show in particular when I experienced the cruel and blatant sexism within the local music scene, I did not want to push my experiences aside, and instead, wanted to create a platform for other females to share their experiences. Although our main focus is around women in the industry, we also seek to spotlight underground musicians and artists, with an emphasis in the local scene. Thank you for supporting us goth girls. Sara Windom editor in chief Kiera Riley writer
if you would like to contribute or be considered for a staffer position, send us an email at sarawindom@outlook.com
c o c o + cc l l aa i i rr
Supersonic waves of a synthesised bass hit you and suddenly you have crossed the threshold from everyday life into a dream world. Coco & Clair Clair’s album Posh, originally releasing in 2018, takes the fun of rap beats and layers them with unexpected, reverb soaked harmonies, all paired with relatable lyrics. It almost doesn’t feel like you are listening to music online. Listening to Coco & Clair Clair feels more like you just showed up to the slumber party of the century. In “Sims 2,” their second most popular song on Spotify, and track five of seven on the album, the two sing of the luxuries of being single, loving yourself and your best friends. “Spraying rose water in the air, spraying rose water on my face, text from an ex, smash erase, keeping to myself, winning the race,” they rap. With lyrics intending to hype you up, it is hard not to feel like the coolest person in the room. Add a weightless voice bouncing off the walls and a pinch of echoed synth and you just might feel untouchable. Apart from their cool factor, Coco & Clair Clair are also known to fight back against norms set out in the rap community, specifically those targeting female rappers. Coco & Clair Clair sing a different language. The girls do not rely on anybody, and would rather hang out with their friends and have fun than try to gain the approval of others. One of their main focuses is “...female love and empowerment,” Clair Clair told Creative Loafing in an interview.
On their first track, “Cute But Psycho,” Coco & Clair Clair put out a warning to others not to mess with the girl group, starting out a verse with, “Yall thought I was cute, then you found out I’m Psycho, Try to mess with me? I’ll key your car, call Geico.” Coco & Clair Clair are the voice for the women of the 21st century, and cover subject matter common to the everyday female in a way few have done before. Posh is the group’s first album release, and has grown quite a bit in popularity, featuring several artists of notoriety, including Paramedic, Graham, Fit of Body and Slug Christ. by sara windom
part time plays crescent ballroom in phx
David Loca, of Part Time aims to astound and surprise with a musical repertoire that jumps from mellow synth to psychedelic rock to children’s music. Loca maintains this blended, eclectic style in a number of ways. So when Loca waltzed on stage at the Crescent Ballroom in a white button-up, grey trousers, and a pair of heeled leopard print boots, it only seemed fitting. Following the release of Spell #6, the band’s fourth album, Part Time crisscrossed
“When Loca waltzed on stage in a pair of heeled leopard print boots, it only seemed fitting.” the country. And regardless of the city, the stage, the crowd, each show stands as a testament to their explosive, dreamy, and unpredictable nature. The band played Phoenix with local favorites Weird Radicals and Strange Lot. Weird Radicals opened the show, delivering a high-energy performance that fluctuated
from melodramatic beach punk to electric indie rock. Strange Lot followed it up with a surfy, rhythmic spectacle. As each act came and went, the audience grew exponentially, as anticipation built at a similar pace. By the time Part Time was set to take the stage, excitement filled the room. Finally, Wally Byers, Robert Dozal, Billy Trujillo, and Tony Leal began to shuffle onto the stage one at a time and started fiddling with instruments and pedals. When each was settled and tuned, the lights went down and Loca ambled to centerstage. With a smooth instrumental, the band eased the audience into the set. Greens and purples doused the small club as Loca slipped from one song to the next seamlessly. Though undoubtedly soft in sound, there was certain energy that captivated the crowd. This captivation escalated to downright excitement for some audience members as small groups would shimmy and shout to fan favorites like “Cassie (Won’t You Be My Doll)”, “Hide”, and “So Far Away.” The excitement became contagious as slow shakes and sways intoxicated each person standing in the crowd. By the end of the set, the crowd outstretched their hands to each other and to Loca. Embracing and shouting each lyric to one another, Part Time had turned the seemingly mellifluous set into a gleeful sideshow. A celebration that left people shouting for more. by kiera riley
Legs cramp, murmurs spread across the crowd, eyes adjust to a pitch-black room. A smoke machine fills the air as an enormous synth recording erupts throughout the venue indicating only one thing: the band is about to go on. What was once whispers explodes into full on shrieking as their silhouettes appear. Coming all the way from Manchester, England, Pale Waves visited Nashville for the first time in November as a part of their 2018 North American Tour. This was the band’s first headlining tour in Northern America. Accompanying them on this exciting journey that started in late October is Miya Folick of California, and Ohio’s The Candescents. Awaiting their set, it was clear that after two openers, the crowd was more than anxious to hear the indie-pop band. Breaking into one of their most popular songs, Pale Waves jumped onstage and immediately started “Television Romance,” gaining the shouts of many approving fans. Fans of Pale Waves were treated to never-before performed tunes. Playing nearly everything off of their new album, My Mind Makes Noises, that released in September, singer Heather Baron-Gracie hyped the crowd up with high-energy dance moves similar to The 1975’s Mat-
ty Healy. Perfectly hit melodies made the band worth a watch as well as a listen. Donned in gothic garb reminiscent of the ‘90s grunge era, Pale Waves rarely took a breather from their ecstatic performance, and even during slower songs the musicians continued to dance. Although this tour is now finished, Pale Waves already has a tour with counterparts The 1975 lined up for 2019. by sara windom
masked underneath pink sheets the sun creeps into each crack in my blinds groggy eyes exposed to a new day in the sunlight of the afternoon we spend the day in bed as I rub your back the way you ask me to i am so glad you are here i wish it could be this way always weeks pass by, i change the sheets.
ivory silk and you want nothing to do with me this time do not speak to me, do not touch me, do not look at me or kiss me or even smile in the slightest turn around and stay silent now take your clothes off uncovered and exposed i lay staring into the face of pure antipathy weeks pass by, i wash the sheets but this time I also lock the door.
by sara windom
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by sara windom
Marking their debut album is Kill Surf City, with Ever Notice How Everything’s Stupid? complete with 10 tracks that sound exactly what you would hope for: a beautiful blend of chaotic noise. The first track titled nothing other than “Frayed Intro Sanity,” gets listeners otherwise not equipped for what they are about to hear in the right mindset. What this lengthy 50 seconder lacks in words, it makes up for in the pure, hard screams of anarchy. Kill Surf City is not messing around. For those with an ear not yet trained to appreciate noise
rock, do not fret, for next is a less in-your-face track. “MJE” takes your heart rate from a panic to right back to rest. Beginning solely with drums, then joined by a seemingly effortless, rich voice, it was no question that Kill Surf City took influence from ‘80s alt-rockers The Jesus and Mary Chain. With killer guitar riffs that terrorize every mom on the block, and sonic beats that force neighbors to turn up the TV another notch, Ever Notice How Everything’s Stupid? is the perfect garage rock album. Going through tracks like “Cop Out” and “Knucle Dragger,”
both of which, as well as most of the album, have qualities that make them sound like a full band is present. However, Kill Surf City is a project run by a single pair of hands belonging to Grey Gordon. These aforementioned killer riffs and sonic beats are somehow even more impressive learning this fact. Debuting an album this well done, Kill Surf City may just have to change their name, as they are truly bringing surf city and surf rock back to life. by sara windom
Ready Now, from the always sunny streets of Philadelphia, PA, paid Rebel Lounge a visit during their Holiday 2018 Tour after releasing their EP Love and Other Dumb Stuff. Love and Other Dumb Stuff is precisely what it advertises. Self described as “emo pop,” the band covers tough but relatable subjects like getting dumped by your significant other, hating their new girlfriend, and falling in love. The most charming part of Ready Now’s writing, though, is their borderline satirical point of view. It seems the world is falling apart and
burning around the band, and still they hope everything is fine. The instrumentation is generally upbeat and poppunky, that asks for you to bop along. Lyrics are where the honesty shines through. “I can’t wait until you call from her bathroom and tell me our lives are small until you change them,” sings Jack Mc-
Cann, vocals and guitarist in their final song “Jeepers!” McCann has a way of singing that somehow channels Alanis Morissette and takes it in a direction more similar to Tyson Ritter’s early days in the All-American Rejects. And it works. Apart from a twosong release earlier this year, Love and Other Dumb Stuff is the band’s first EP out. Already, four of the five songs have made their top five most popular. by sara windom
SLATOR Bass beats thump through the hearts of many as the lights go up and he hits the stage. Diverse faces encompassing the local scene are all crowded together, bonding over the musical sounds of Slator Blacc. Born and raised in the Westside of Phoenix, near Maryvale, Slator Blacc started rhyming as soon as he first started forming words, and wrote his first real verses at 8 years old. Performing for his family to pass the time was common as he grew up, however, he did not look at his talent as a profession until he hit his teenage era. “...Now people sing along to lyrics I wrote. Ain’t nothing better than that shit right there,� he said. Growing up in Arizona has had
BLACC its plusses and minuses for the rapper, though. With no tangible hip-hop scene locally, performing and networking can become difficult tasks. “The Arizona scene is still figuring out itself. There’s no real foundation that’s been laid for us so all the kids you see going hard now are the ones laying that down,” said Slator Blacc. As he has transformed from a kid with a dream to an artist signed to Live Great Die Awesome (LGDA) Records, his subject matter has also mateured, taking inspiration from Kendrick Lamar, Erykah Badu, and John Coltrane. “I write about life, my experiences, my close ones’ experiences,” he said. “Hip-hop is the people...when you have someone who can speak on
things that reflect the city, people can see that and tell you, ‘oh yeah.. he’s the one that’s gonna get us there. He really cares about us.’ I take that to heart.” Slator Blacc takes his musicianship a step further, going beyond just making music and collabing with friends. Some of his top priorities aim to impact entire communities. “I’m just making sure I’m being the best representation of where I come from,” he said. “I hope to go farther than this civilization, really. When a little kid stops and notices a Slator Blacc album beneath the rubble after the war was over. That’s how far I plan to take this.” Aside from releasing new music and performing live,
“Hip-hop is the people.” in 2019, the rapper wants to buy the neighborhood back, “The ‘Live Great’ way,” as he calls it. by sara windom
Immersed in a chromatic haze, people stood scattered around the lawn. The color and noise of the band contrasted with whitewashed walls as hues of blue cascaded and collided with the crowd. Even in the midst of high saturation and the zig-zagging of stage lights, every set of eyes in the audience was intently focused on one central point. Under their gaze stood Andy Warpigs. Sporting red, heart-shaped sunglasses with a crimson guitar slung around his shoulder, he crooned and coaxed the crowd into a slow sway, and then a jolt. Combining punk, indie, folk and experimental elements, Warpigs entranced and energized. “Bands from Los Angeles and Austin are a little more polished, but in Phoenix, I can live out my Ramones, Iggy Pop fantasy while simultaneously playing with folk bands from out of town or playing at hardcore shows in people’s backyards or playing at ASU,” Warpigs said. “I’ve been able to do things that I would’ve never been able to do [anywhere else].” Kick-starting the band Andy Warpigs six years ago, Warpigs knows the scene well. Based on his experienc-
es playing across the Valley, he said Arizona hosts a wide variety of local and traveling artists. The rich, eclectic sound that results is something to behold. No one has ever been able to pin it down to a single genre or adjective, but they have been able to combine them in one space. Because of this, the future of Phoenix music now lives in empty living rooms, closed coffee shops and houses of worship across the Valley. None of this would be possible without the many musicians, artists and venues that cultivated the first
shadow of a scene. A short account of AZ music scenes In Phoenix, the birth of the modern DIY movement is generally traced back to an unassuming brick building on Grand Avenue. Stephanie Carrico and Jason “JRC” Nosaj bought and molded The Trunk Space in 2004. “I think it provides a space that is unique in the Phoenix area and allows people to try new things and express themselves. It’s a friendly, open environment compared to the more formal venue arrangement,” said Robbie Pfeffer, a board member at Trunk Space. “Trunk Space really does pro-
vide an outlet for creative people and just people who want to hang out and happen to be under 21 or not interested in going to a bar.” The original storefront was what some would call a “fixer-upper.” A team of volunteers painted and polished the interior of the building. In its heyday, the venue’s vibe matched the artists that filled the space. One wall was painted white, the other an egg-yolk yellow. The two converged at a vertex with a low stage jutting out from the intersection. Poems, paintings, drawings, photography and whatever else could be plastered to drywall decorate the area. Trunk Space reached its final form when Luster Kaboom, a local artist, adorned the side of the building with a grinning green goblin in 2010. The “Nerd Monster” wall became synonymous with the venue. A slew of musicians, performance artists, improv troupes and everyone else who fell between labels took to the stage. When people speak of the shows they’ve seen at the Trunk Space, their answers tend to range from teens performing cutesy indie pop to a grown man actively
trying to shove a microphone down his throat. Some of the first bands to take the triangular stage were widely experimental. The Coitus, a band that frequented underground shows, performed wearing Halloween masks using defunct toys to create synthnoise. Haunted Cologne, another Trunk Space favorite, combined polka and punk with the sound of one accordion. The energy of the venue is anarchic and thrifty, but welcoming. And there is always some element of surprise. When they say Trunk
Space is open to anyone, they really do mean anyone. Every genre and subgenre has been represented in the 14-year history of the venue. With the exclusion of covers, anything goes. The Trunk Space serves as a center point, a home base of
sorts for misfits across the Valley. Though the venue has faced its fair share of challenges, namely a lack of air conditioning and a location change, the message still remains the same. “I think at this point, Trunk Space has become a generational
institution. There have been so many bands and communities who have come through Trunk Space since its inception that it’s really quite interesting to see how one place can mean many different things to different people,” Pfeffer said. Outside of Trunk Space, coffee shops, art galleries and music venues
provided similar outlets for artists of the time. The scene, as a whole, is captured in the 2008 documentary, Hi, My Name is Ryan, which chronicled one of
its beloved members, Ryan Avery. Performing in bands such as Father’s Day; Hi, My Name is Ryan; Iggy Pop (no, not that Iggy Pop) and Night Wolf, Avery became a martyr for the Phoenix scene in general. In one of Avery’s bands, he and his friends donned animal masks and screamed into bullhorns. In another, he banged on sheet metal until he bled. In his most consistent band, Father’s Day, he yelled and jumped into the crowd as his alter ego, father and businessman Douglas Patton. During one notable show with Locking Your Car Doors, Avery and his band smashed watermelons, threw televisions, exploded a bag of powdered sugar and took baseball bats to a car that was driven into the venue. “One guy in particular
eye is bleeding you gotta go to the hospital and take care of that!’ and he replied ‘yeah yeah yeah, I know I’ll go but I can’t leave without a shirt!’” Avery recalls. This same anarchic energy was mirrored decades prior in Tucson. Though many know Arizona for western or Hispanic influences in music, the varying sounds of punk largely evolved from hardcore bands of the 1980s. Prominent punk bands like the Meat Puppets and Blood Spasm emerged from a gritty desert wasteland, crowd surfing on the hands of dedicated fans. From the short stint marinating in heat rage and frustration with the Reagan administration, the punks of the South innovated music
I still remember came up to the merch table after the set and his eye was bleeding and I was like, ‘dude, your
under the collective name, Tucson Hard Core, or T.H.C. for short. In a Nov. 17, 2016
article by the Trial and Error Collective, reporters noted that the many musicians in Tucson anticipated new wave. The Pedestrians and the Serfers, two prominent local bands, caught the same wave as Devo or the Stooges. Although the sound was experimental and new, the same punk ideologies stuck. And with rambunc-
tious crowds, the hardcore scene had trouble keeping venues open for more than a few months. In its short time, T.H.C. produced some mainstream bands, created some hidden punk gems and hosted popular acts such as the Dead Milkmen and the Dead Kennedys. Years after the rage,
people attribute the rise of new wave and skate punk to emerging artists in Tucson. There is more to Arizona music history than T.H.C. and the Trunk Space. Phoenix also had a small punk scene around the same time. Emo, pop-punk, post-hardcore, spaghetti western, country, indie and folk have all shined under the Arizona sun at one time or another. But experimental, punk and DIY ideologies have been the ones to stick it out for the long run. Contemporary DIY Scene Bands that frequent the makeshift stages across the Valley differ from the gilded era of the Trunk Space,
but the two ages share some overlap. In the contemporary DIY scene, artists march on with that same experimental spirit. The many topics musicians sing and scream about seem to be constant too. Young people are still angsty. And young people in Phoenix still find their trouble rooted in the isolating and exhausting effects of heat and endless urban sprawl. Growing up in the desert is a shared experience, and it’s communicated fairly eloquently through song — whether the band is from 2008 or 2018. Modern bands still typically run younger when it comes to age; newer bands on the scene typically garner their inspiration from their predecessors. “The DIY ethos and aesthetics are
taking on. A lot of stuff you see in popular culture is nostalgia,” Warpigs said. “A lot of younger bands you see get a weird idea in their head and they just roll with it. Young people like a lot of weird music. Younger musicians aren’t as tethered by genres.” The differences arise in the energy of shows, the music production and the distribution method. There are also a range of new venues upholding the legacy of local music. And these venues span across the Valley. In central Phoenix, musicians typically play the newly located Trunk Space, The Rebel Lounge, Valley Bar or pop-up
house shows. Tempe houses renowned small venues such as The Sunroom and 51 West. Mesa boasts The Nile Underground. As far as the energy of shows, musicians have dialed it back from total anarchy to soft rebellion. Simmering ideas of anarchy do persist, but shows don’t typically spiral to the same point of chaos. As the scene continues to grow, new bands pop up every week while others disband. But with these consistent shifts, some groups continuously lead the pack.
by kiera riley
The Districts kicked off The Fuzzy Dice Tour at Valley Bar in Phoenix, AZ on January 17. With a full house, lead singer Rob Grote led the crowd in fan favorites like Chlorine and Funeral Beds while also banging out songs from their newest album. The band concludes the tour with shows in Salt Lake City, Denver, and New York City. by kiera riley and sara windom
Jack Pfeffer
live in front of a studio audience