The first time I heard about the Epoch was at a show last summer. I was at the front with my sister Nora, who is really good at subtly pushing through crowds because she is very tall and aggressive and also a misandrist, when some asshole’s attempt at spontaneous crowd-surfing culminated in him kicking me in the face, knocking my glasses to the floor. Nora handles emergency situations like a champion and therefore immediately screamed, “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HERE EVERYONE OR I WILL FUCKING PUNCH YOU” and snatched my glasses from the floor before they could get trampled. As I put my glasses back on and my eyes refocused, I noticed a group of people dancing next to the stage. They were radiant punk kids, grinning and jumping, a mass of entangled limbs. I nudged a boy standing next to me and asked him, almost breathlessly, who they were. He was kind of a d-bag and scoffed before telling me that they were the Epoch. He said it like it was italicized. I thought the name sounded dumb, and also maybe that they were a cult? But if they were a cult, they were a very hip cult, which I’ve never heard of before but could probably happen. In 2007 a group of the coolest weirdo art teens, childhood friends from Brooklyn, formed a band called The Mighty Handful. They wanted to make DIY music fun and silly and accessible, with shows that felt more like slumber parties with homemade confetti and lots of audience participation. Eight years later, they were performing, with a few added members, at Lincoln Center. The Mighty Handful has long since disintegrated. Now they are the Epoch, a collective of musicians and artists, and, as they often repeat, the Epoch is now. The Epoch is officially made up of ten projects and one official photographer, but everyone plays with everyone else. They are dedicated to the idea that punk isn’t just about music or aesthetics. Punk is a lifestyle, a dedication to inclusivity and the constant questioning of our social structures and norms. Punk is about doing the things that make you feel okay and having the courage to find out what those things are; it’s about fiercely loving what you love
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and feeling like a part of something. The Epoch makes some screamy-yelly-moshy punk music, which is excellent, but most of the music they make is punk in another sense of the word. It makes me feel like my stomach is disintegrating, like everything is beyond fucked but will maybe eventually be okay, like there are a million different ways to look at things. They make music (and art and poetry) that empowers people. It makes me want to tell everyone I love just how much I love them, to talk about my most secret feelings and stupidest ideas, to make my own music. When my friend saw Told Slant he told me that half of the audience was crying, and everyone was screaming along. I think that DIY is the most important thing happening in music right now. It’s broadening the idea of what is okay to talk about, to make music about, to feel. DIY basically means just going out and making music, or whatever it is you’re trying to make, regardless of whether you have a label or any money or a ton of knowledge about your instrument. The Epoch used to hand out instruments to the audience at their shows. They reject the competition inherent in the music industry. Instead of competing for shows and fame, they actively support each other’s projects and encourage anyone to make music. With the advent of Bandcamp and Tumblr and all the rest of the hip-kid-social-media, it is really easy to promote your friends’ music. Everyone in the Epoch credits the other members for their help and inspiration, links to their Bandcamp pages, and writes heartfelt reviews of their albums. If you find one band, you will undoubtedly find yourself clicking through the rest of them. Some of the projects are electronic, and some are gritty, and some are lo-fi bedroom sounding, but they all share a similar perspective: sometimes my life seems like a big bummer, but ultimately things are going to be okay. This is why kids cry at their shows. Everyone feels like that sometimes, (or at least, I feel like that a lot of the time) and it is so affirming to hear people be honest about those emotions.
