Women of Noise Zine #1 by Women Of Noise

Welcome to the first Women of Noise zine! Women of Noise is a digital archive of women and femme-aligned persons in noise, power electronics, post-punk, industrial, experimental, avant-garde, avant-pop, no wave, drone, shoegaze, outsider music, and other genres that are heavy, harsh, and eccentric. The idea to expand our activity and start assembling the zine was born in 2021, during one of the lockdowns. We were met with absolutely amazing response and got to work with lots of creative and inspiring pieces of work that you can all see here now. Thank you to all who contributed and supported the project in one way or another, and thank you too, dear reader for taking your time to interact with this piece! Lots of love, Women of Noise

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WOMEN OF NOISE

ZINE Issue #1 Madeline Johnston - Devin Flower, Chicago, IL

xnon

curated by: Kaltsektion 7

Tessia Bekelja

FORGIVE ME FATHER FOR I HAVE *RECORDSCRATCH* BEEN INDOCTRINATED BY THE BINARY Cyrille

As an afab person who is questioning their gender one of the biggest hiccups in understanding myself has been a lot of feminist media I consumed in my early teens. This media was incredibly impacting, formative, and validating, at the time, and it really improved my life as a whole, but now that I am questioning my gender it's become a bit of a guilt trip. It's really difficult for me to discern if my issues with being a woman come from internalized patriarchy and a narrow view of womanhood or if I am, in fact, non-binary. In one sense being a woman is not as narrow of an experience as we are led to believe but for me it can be difficult to tell if I am taking issue with being a woman or the concept of womanhood I was presented with when I was younger. In fact, in debating coming out as non binary I feel guilty, as though I am betraying other women who do not want to walk the narrow path of mainstream femininity; even to be this sounds ludicrous but if I really believe my gender shouldn’t determine how I am seen or treated, why should it matter to me at all? This is not right and in an ideal world validation would not be a pie that can only be divided so many ways, and yet, we exist in a system that is narrow minded and expects conformity to some kind of norm, be it traditional gender roles, mainstream feminism, or something else. Regardless of the model you are adhering to, it is expected to be simple, and easy to explain, even though most people's experience of identity is complicated, unique, and messy. As much as I am tempted to operate as though I exist in this ideal universe it seems naïve to think that I will be received under the gaze of that ideal; it is naïve to think that my actions exist in a vacuum and that my identity will not be seen as a generalization. In fact, I know at times it will.

If I try to separate from womanhood and my assigned gender it will be seen as an abandonment of my feminist principles by some. It will be seen as a rejection of powerful womanhood. I know that I will be questioned and chastised for claiming a new identity because if I, a strong individual, do not identify as a woman it may be received as though I had forsaken other strong women. It may be seen as though I did not think there was enough space for me to be everything that I am under the guise of "woman". Having voiced this feeling I should say that it's not true. I understand that womanhood exists in as many shades as there are women in the world. Even with all of this freedom now granted underneath the umbrella of womanhood, I find myself unsettled by my association to this terminology. I feel the history of ownership and possession that comes with this word. I feel a repulsion at the body that this word is attached to and what that body has been marketed for; for sex and for motherhood. Even as I hear myself writing these words, describing my pain that comes from being born a woman, I hear how much patriarchy has infiltrated my view of what a woman it is. There is no reclamation in running from my body. There is no reclamation in running from a word. But, somehow, I do not know if I can find the strength to reclaim “womanhood". I read that word and I cringe, deep inside of me I feel detached and alienated by it it. And so as I travel down this stream of consciousness I am forced to question whether or not the way I identify should be a reflection of my most intamate self or if it is most necessary for me to find a way to see myself that does not cause pain. Is it cowardice to separate from the broken system? Am I abandoning the work because the task is too daunting? Or is it courageous to find a new way to walk through the world?

La Ronde, Linda Kocher

PHOTOGRAPHS BY RACHAEL SHORR

1. Firewalker 2. Terrorist 3. Sister Anne 4. Krimewatch 5. Game

Jing (Thunder)

Mai Young Øvlisen from the Danish-Korean band Meejah

People stare at me like I'm in Araki's photography People throw with dollars like I'm in a dark room with no colors People stare at me like there ain't nothing but black and white prophecy This is what I color in my big black book with numbers of lovers

In a great commune, everything will come back in tune In my mouth I trust I'm the Asian girl in your lighthouse of lust.

Hang me up and jing me open, I'm your Queen of Spring in the city of pollen Hang me up and jing me open, I'm your Queen of Spring and the city is /my token

Jing is a comment on mediated representation of Asian women and narratives in the West. How does it feel to be gazed at, and how do you become the gazer? It's about empowered sexuality, and how it can be used to open us up towards each other in a potent meeting that fosters new perspectives. Instead of demonizing and objectifying each other, in a way that hurts all. And it's a tip of the hat to the legendary, erotic photographer Nobuyoshi Araki; He desires women, but when he portraits Asian women, he doesn't think of them as Asian, to him they are just women. Let the new gaze set us free!

Frej Rosenstjerne

The Stage is Yours, Dunya Atay

DON'T WANT TO BE QUEERCORE reflections on being in a queercore band in a small city Gwynnifer Bones

"I'm queer." The dry tone of the guitarist's voice hid a feeling of offense that I had invalidated their queerness. I was harboring my own feelings though - my own feelings of not feeling really valid. I was visibly queer most of my life though. I was facing transphobia most of my twenties and falling quickly into queer spaces with not a single clue why I gravitated towards those spaces or a single clue about the queerness and transness that interwove my life. "It's not that - it's more what I consider queercore to be. Like I'd want us to be way more active in what we do. I want to start with doing benefits at least" I couldn't commit to considering the band queercore, it felt completely wrong. If we were going to be queercore - it wouldn't be that we were a hardcore band with two queer members. It would be that we were actively intent on creating some kind of difference directly in our community and on a wider scale. The level of activism I saw necessary to be queercore wasn't something I myself could even personally commit to. At shows I experienced intense social anxiety and an inability to really be queercore at our shows. I was this gender fucked trans woman at most shows and was performing for a mostly male audience - I would be on the stage on my knees screaming into my lyrics book as water spit and vibrations poured all over the microphone. I sung about trauma - queerness - transness - schizophrenia - medication - I had a ballad about the neverending story - I chanted about seeking community to better others around us and ourselves - there were songs about psychedelics - there was even a song that was me basically screaming fuck you at my parents.

I swear I do not have an inflated sense of self while saying they were all bangers. This question of the queerness of our hardcore - it's interesting because I am thinking in respect to the history of queercore back to the zine JD's and up to the time of god is my co-pilot and team dresch up to contemporary currents of queercore. I am as well thinking in respect to the reclaiming of queer in the early nineteen nineties with Queer Nation and Act Up. Since the beginning of my official conscious transition - okay yes I'm this kind of genderqueer muppet fuck whatever - and sure I'll change my name and pronouns and begin the daily regimen of coming out to people instead of just baffling them and beckoning their questions - since this time I had soaked up a lot of information and knowledge. Hard to say if the wisdom was coming along with it. I had travelled through a brief sketch of the term transgender and everything that led up to it - from sexual complementarianism to victorian crossdressing laws to Hirschfelds institute to Sylvia Rivera's speech "You all better quiet down now." I dove through the discourse as best possible in such avenues as Sandy Stone and Judith Butler and Kate Bornestein. I don't know if I was developing a self righteousness about my ideas of what trans and queer was - and what that meant for my own identity. I think I was struggling with whether I wanted to be part of that history whether I myself was even queer or trans enough. If our band was to be queer - not just two of us being queer - it had to have a heightened level of activist intent. It had to be more than us the members - it had to be more than the music. I didn't see what I thought it needed to be happening at our shows. And sure? A band with queer members singing about queer things in a mostly cis het space has it's own inherent activism. And of course - one or two shows a huge group of my friends and people connected from my own solo house shows is there and its suddenly a queer space like a goddamn magic trick. But really what even is queer space? Does it have planets and stars and moons and asteroids? Well yes of course all the weird freaky people are all exchanging their natal charts and as well sharing trauma stories.

Was there an activism happening at the one show where people are cheering and the band gets requested an encore and we quickly improv jam a homage to the homopolice - I am screaming over and over again I am a violent transexual. Afterwards I escape to the back area where my screaming self identity would have been heard - two men who are smoking see me - and start laughing and one of them remarks - "so thats whats going on" So here I am a vocalist in a queercore band that I'm not allowing to be called queercore cause I can't commit to the activism I see necessary and I don't see it in the other members. I invalidate a band members queerness in my shutting down of any association with queercore even though it does make its way onto show posters. I'm also not seeing that - hey this is probably not? a mostly cis het male audience? I am not seeing the conversations that could be happening when I'm hiding in the alley to drink beer from home. Im also not seeing as I sit in the alley on the ground the drummers thoughts as he comes out to quietly crouch next to me and ask me if im okay. I'm not seeing that maybe my showing up nine beers in and then puking in the bathroom before going on stage - that maybe all these thoughts of queer and trans history in my head being the bar I want to jump over - if were going to be queercore - could be a problem? What ultimately led to us being only a short lived band - and us all going our separate ways? Maybe I didn't truly take in the queerness that was happening - maybe I just didn't see it because I was refusing to see it. A trans woman supported our one bandcamp album released as part of record production month and I don't know how she found it - she was on the other side of the world. The comment she left spoke in a rough paraphrase that she felt empowered by the music the band had created. Empowered for when she had to go to out and face the world with all it's cruelness and intentional ignorance.

Whatever my feelings and refusal to see it or accept it - the band still had its small contribution towards the collective change I felt was necessary for our community and beyond. The guitarist moved away from our small city. Maybe I wasnt lying when I joked on stage before we played our last song at our last show that we were breaking up because of interpersonal dynamics - the drummer remarked he sold out - the guitarist laughed but shared no words. There was no call for an encore that time. Maybe after reflecting on all this I can finally accept we did some good? That what we were doing wasn't simply being in a band making noise - that we were that something more I longed for? Maybe.

Elia Green

i want to walk that back a little bit. not because i don't mean it, but because it requires a bit of reframing in terms of what i mean by "wouldn't argue in favor". my defense is not for the flagellation of those that have worked with incredulous detail and determination to be recognized as “musicians”. nor is this in some effort to call the term “music” problematic. at the same time, i am not proposing alternative terms to things such as “musician”, “artist” or the like, because i believe (in the spirit of the irreplaceable elizabeth a baker) everyone should be able to come to terms with their own title, with their own declaration on what it is their focus surrounds and how they talk about themselves. abolition towards the notion of “being” a musician, artist, tinkerer is to deplete the of pre-established category and allow a multitude of sincerity. to go back to my relationships between various types of sounds ("music"), i stated that my reactions and feelings towards them were back by "no argument". i don't feel a need to have a rationalization. in fact what makes me (myself being one of these troublesome little "noise artists" or "experimental composers" or "nimrods with no taste and bad haircuts", if you will) feel such is less to do with noise "being" or "not being", but "not needing to be". so for the sake of inclusivity, i recognize that my terms are "music", but for others, it may be "art" or "dance" or "film" or a myriad of relevant arenas. i don't feel a strong compulsion to say noise is or isn't music, but that feeling rests on the precedent that i have a strong compulsion against defending 27 noise on the grounds that it is "music".

susan sontag very acutely discusses this in her essay, "against interpretation", "The fact is, all Western consciousness of a reflection upon art have remained within the confines staked out by the Greek theory of art as mimesis or representation. It is through this theory that art as such-above and beyond given works of art--become problematic, in need of defense. And it is the defense of art which gives birth to the odd vision by which something we have learned to call 'form' is separated off from something we have learned to call 'content', and to the well-intentioned move which makes content essential and form accessory". 28

this idea of "tune" has been used to otherize forms of music that do not fit within a model, and while I have deep gratitude for the work of composers such as partch* who opened the doors to further temperament systems, or lachenmann* who opened the doors to further modes of playing. with them, comes two common errors. one of these is the danger of some composers choosing not to draw from the ideological task of shifting the temperaments in timbral exploration (or from the exercise of appreciating other cultures where certain temperaments predominate--which is an exercise easier said than done. 29

appreciation is work, and the most key element is respect to the cultures you wish to truly appreciate and not generate some exploitive reimagining—#), but rather a knowing (or selectively ignorant) appropriation of other people's music.

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only creates this false danger that further alienates individuals and fuels the fire of hatemongers who whine about the classical canon being "destroyed”. 32

anyone who has been adjacent to a collegiate music department (at least in america) has heard the murmurings that a global and decolonized approach to music is an "attack" on the western canon, and that teaching a more open approach will "destroy student’s education". this is why i do not lean into the "destruction" narrative, i am more of the belief that these conversations threaten the threatener and are not indiscriminately "dangerous".

because there will always be a call for proof.

yet there seems to be no conceited effort to find similarly aesthetic constructions, which (produced under different means), and broadcast them in these classrooms (especially deaf to those that are not white or cis). i can’t be too sure, but it’s making the dogs go crazy. the xenofeminist collective laboria cuboniks describes their hurtle towards freedom, "want[ing] to cultivate the exercise of positive freedom–-freedom-to rather than simply freedom-from". the mission of making noise music palatable (by means of aesthetic justifications, principles of construction, detailed notes accompanying34any and all works) is a

“freedom-from” prerogative. it ultimately alienates the musician altogether, it is no longer their music, it is their "statement", it is their "experiment", it is not about their creation, it is about to what degree their creation is like “music”. therefore, what is the use of noise being "music"? what good is the radicalization of preconceptions if the end goal is to rework them into the establishment that founded such preconceptions... is this our "intersectionality", our “inclusivity”?

so let’s talk about the material reality. that then should be preconception of is abolished. which artist must leave their that identity should in the way that it a manner free from performative guilt. an abolition is most needed is construction of what is scattered and minced creative power of the art galleries are areas christian marclay and where you are going screaming into the because noise music is

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the ultimate danger placed towards the music is that identity is not to say that an identity at the door or be ignored in music, but welcomes all identities in stratification, dogma and area where this identity in “modern art” circles. the "modern art" has completely up the autonomy and the creator. in art museums and where you are going to see okkyung lee collaborating, to find margaret chardiet microphone. art galleries. not "music". it is "art".

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many artists are drawn towards these spaces because this is the given—if we are to be accepted— to a "style". I don’t mean with “modern art” spaces, consequence of the artifact’s for if we are always defined “new” we are destined to be holding ourselves in the radical eventually be succeeded to predict.

only language we are we are then confined this as a strife I take but the unfortunate social need to be “art”. as “experimental” and naïve, outdated and regard that will by a future we are unable

noise music effectively is a medium in which all is given and all is sacrificed. the blending of the frequency spectrums generated by electronic tones that are associated with signal errors (feedback), discomforting dynamic ranges and jarring performance practice. it is a type of music that begs the listener to leave their feelings about what they have formed to believe is "music" at the door. in this manner the noise musician sacrifices their bearings of traditional contrapuntal and pitched compositional devices, for even the composers that do employ such (such as jennifer walshe), ultimately lends to auditory information becoming neutralized when faced with sounds of dense spectral complexity found in noise music (the same reason we are not inundated with the entirety of all the world’s pitches when playing a single note). and at that point there is nothing to hide behind, the wall of sound generating tones, squeaks, hums and buzzes that all form a conglomerate fuzz that we navigate aurally and through all bodily channels. in the case of many noise musicians, the music speaks to the end of the body as a subject to receive. an almost birds-eye view of oneself, allowing the musician and audience to be in a singular union where they both experience their bodies own reaction to the way that frequencies manipulate the nerves and adjacent reactionary systems. two fuzz-laden arms wide open to embrace in a warming pile of zaps and oscillations. 38

ruly as t e r ry a hich h e v o w d rec noise ( oise” n a a n e aum nnel lik e, just erting r t , nce a cha o them ly perv e l o i gh “n atical fv u r o evin e o k r s d e h r n t m c o u rien es, and fallen fore the dando of e p x y the e ful them maticall ce, there as mike ew form ical n h e p er n pow times th ral viole tists suc es into a ns of ty ea u ar n ofte ise as a ch with ese them e the m h u id no or “ ce” as s bring t t is outs n a an viole ns**) c , one th n ki tom unicatio m com rse. ou disc

it is especially revolutionary in a genre that has been adjacent to (and sometimes involving) hate speech, to reject the violence and to reclaim it.

at the end of this discussion there must be some questions. i think the chief concern would be, "what now? if not music, if not art, then what?". and i don't wish to give the impression that i am not impressed by music or art. 40

but that it can be grounds for dogma, and that stepping beyond it is not to step into some new and better doppelgänger, but to raise hell about what we have. as xenofeminism states in the face of coming up with the alternate reality there’s a tendency to "treat universals as absolute, generating a debilitating disjuncture between the thing we seek to depose and the strategies we advance to depose it". I believe that every noise musician should seek their own means of creation to depose “it”. today’s “it” will maybe not be tomorrow’s “it”, but we have to continue to fight. fight against the sweeping tide of apathy, affective chagrin that demands variables and receipts in the face of beauty. fight to liberate our burned comrades that have been receiving subhuman treatment as long as they could be oppressed. fight to reclaim our noises, our bodies and our souls.

*by explicitly mentioning these composers i am not delineating they are the center to which all other music similar rotates around. these are notable examples and that’s all there is to it. # i would like to state how horribly reductive this proclamation is. the fact is, this is grounds for a whole other essay that someone much wiser than me should generate. **you might ask if this is my attack upon these artists. i honestly don’t really care about them, but any artists that use nazi imagery as a method of provoking and thematic ideas of serial killers and murder as aesthetic set dressing just rubs me the wrong way and i think does their communities quite the disservice. 41

Temperance of Sleep temperanceofsleep.bandcamp.com temperanceofsleep.tumblr.com

Black out, slip onto the stage they claw at my feet, their mouths salivate I am 16 and fronting an all boy punk band The people around me encourage my dreams of becoming the next Dita Von Teese Underage, screaming vulgarities with booze shoved in my face I'm not allowed to touch the instruments, only paint my face and become a doll on display My mouth moves but they don't hear the words that I say. I am 18 and singing in a duo with a boy who scoffs at me touching the piano keys We only record 3 songs before he slaps me in the face on my birthday, calling me names. I am 19 and just released my first solo music Messages pour in from men around the world, "did you really make this by YOURSELF?!" Collaborations fall apart due to jealous girlfriends, even as I insist I'm not interested in these men. My first offer at a record deal involved me spending hours on the phone with a man Observing my age, my appearance, my ability to pull in an audience with my body & face. I slowly start to let my face fall away. I obscure my compositions with more and more noise The rage, I could burn the world with the amount that I felt. Forever pushed into a sex-kitten cage- just sing your songs, don't ever try to play. You don't know how. Fall away, deeper and further until I don't even associate myself with my own name. Are you sure you know what you're doing? How can you even manage if you don't? I am 27 and I have an entire family of instruments now Guitar, cello, violin, piano, and synthesizers. My fingers tremble, my mind wanders to the many times I have been reduced down. I scrape the debris away, continuing to stitch together membranes of sound leftover From the decay, from my vagina bleeding on stagedraping the men in the world in horror They say it isn't possible for a woman to know her own way Without the steady hand of a man to guide her. I spit on all of their names. Their faces burn in my brain. I am 31 now, unafraid of my own sounds- steady or shaking, built from the ground Up into the cathedral of sky, I watch my younger self die and resurrect Into the creature they all feared. Something that needs nothing, a woman playing the game her OWN way.

Gladys Harlow

Paulina Dudek

Some men booked me because their lineup as they said had too much testosterone. Some women booked me because their festival had the women’s quota to reach. Some people booked me because I simply was pretty or came from Germany. And all these times I felt hurt. I wanted people to see what I was doing. I wanted people to book me for the art I was creating. I wanted people to look behind the surface and to just enjoy the music I was playing. But then sometimes someone said they can tell by only listening whether a woman deejays. Because they sound different than men. How different? I asked. Just different, they said, and that they like it. And then I was happy. INYAN adventurousmusic.com/inyan

FAILURE TO PERFORM Leperwitch

A fitted sheet covers the table where I keep my instruments. I keep it covered because I have a very rambunctious cat who enjoys chewing on cables and knobs. She has attempted to lay waste to my 8-track recorder in the past - I can’t take any chances with my other precious gadgets and gizmos. There it sits - a black mass in my office room. A raggedy cloak concealing a multitude of soundscapes, a gateway to invoking unexplored worlds within my own cobweb-laden mind. The door is closed. The cat is nowhere in sight. I’m alone in my apartment, alone in this room, alone in this entire building. It’s just me and my little noisemakers… ....So why can’t I bring myself to break the silence? Executive Dysfunction, which is a fancy term for “Brain won’t let me do the thing”, has been a recurrent problem in my adult life. Perhaps my perfectionistic tendencies - something I’ve struggled with since adolescence - are to blame. Perhaps it’s my dual major depression and PTSD diagnosis that keeps me from doing the thing. Despite the fact that I’m on good medication and am seeing a therapist, sometimes my trash heap of a brain just simply bypasses all of that conditioning and decides to fuck up my day (or week, or month, etc.). This sort of “I need to do it but I can’t” conundrum regarding my creative output is, of course, not exclusive to little ol’ me. Even the most prolific, innovative, and highly successful artists suffer from bouts of executive dysfunction. Bjork, for instance, fell into a creative slump after giving birth to her daughter in the early 2000s. The song “Submarine” from 2004’s Medulla addresses this slump, complete with a resounding command from a chorus of disembodied voices: “DO IT NOW”. This sort of urgent demand for a creative reawakening is what often sits beneath the surface of the inability to act, the failure to perform, the hindrance of artistic expression. Do it now. Create art now. Act as if you no longer have a choice. You have

to create something. Your life depends on it. This call to action I try to repeat to myself, has regretfully done little to get the ball rolling. What has occurred in its place, however, is contemplation. I have begun thinking about how and/or why my executive dysfunction is so pervasive. The genesis of my executive dysfunction, or at least the basal stock of it, is likely rooted in my emotionally turbulent teen years. I used to play music obsessively in my youth. I had a rinky-dink Radio Shack keyboard in high school, and I played the living hell out of it, much to the chagrin of my relatives, friends, and schoolmates. I would play church organ covers of Linkin Park songs before the clearly uncomfortable kids in my homeroom, who insisted I just needed to “cheer up”. ne major difference between then and now is that the opinions of others rarely deterred me back then. Who cared if those kids thought I brought down the whole mood of the room? Hell, they needed to be brought down a peg or two! I had a “sound” and by god, I was going to stick to it. I aspired to make dramatic, melancholic, vaguely religious dirges where I could sing about death and despair with wanton warbles of the throat and of the soul. Sometimes I listen to Lingua Ignota and feel a faint echo of a chuckle from within. Kristin Hayter sounds like the person that Teenage Dora wanted to sound like, but didn’t have the training or finesse or the support to pull it off. I used to write without abandon too, and not just song lyrics. From the time I was old enough to read and write, I was creating my own stories with intricate details and wild plotlines, and I would even turn my stories into miniature comic books. Many of those stories involved me (and occasionally friends) going on tour with my favorite bands and getting into wacky adventures with the band members. It’s me, an 8th Grader, and I’m somehow a roadie for Korn and for some reason time-travelling wizards want to kill us! What ever shall I do?! Well, I can tell you what Dora really did. Dora lost faith. After a series of upsetting and traumatic life events, my artistic output became much darker, much uglier, and much less based around fantastic follies. I had always written dark and disturbing material - my poetry got confiscated by high school teachers more than once - but gone were the passionate words and the dense, rich hyperbole that once scrawled across endless lines. My work became dry, concrete, and lacking in conscience. By the time I was a junior in college, I could only bring myself to write research papers and dry, biographical accounts of once-living noteworthy people.

While my writing might have begun to dry up, my drive to make music had never waned. All through college and a couple of years thereafter, I attempted to start my own band. I wanted to sing and play keyed instruments, and most importantly, I wanted to write all of the songs. Needless to say, my band dreams never manifested. Men either wanted a girl in the band for a figurehead or for sex; the idea of them playing second fiddle to a femme maestro must have seemed emasculating. Women, at least in my city, didn’t care much about playing an instrument. Sure, they would sort-of play guitar and sort-of entertain the idea of being in a band, but they really just wanted to date rock stars, not be one. I quickly figured out that if I was going to make this whole music thing happen, I would have to do it all by myself. Inspired by Grimes’ third album Visions, I started looking into keyboards and synthesizers. I realized that in order to wield any real power as a musician, I needed to produce my own music, not just play it and write it. I eventually bought a drum machine and an 8-track recorder, and I set about recording parts and parcels of songs I had been working on for the previous two years. By 2016, I had a grand idea for a concept album all mapped out in my head. I could hear every song. I could feel every word in my body… ...I could not bring my visions to any sort of physical fruition. Producing my own music proved to be very difficult. For a time, I tried finding other people in my city who were somewhat versed in experimental music who could produce my music for me, but save for a couple of exceptions, they didn’t understand my visions the way I understood them. I couldn’t explain to them that my songs didn’t always follow normal time signatures, or that some parts I had written were supposed to sound “wrong” on purpose. They wanted clean, polished sounds recorded to a metronome. I couldn’t let that happen. Despite this, I had a few friends who recognized my work and started adding me to the bill for gigs they were playing. Through those mostly basement gigs, I hoped other musicians would get an idea of what I was trying to do. Some gig attendees (mostly friends and fellow musicians) liked what I was doing, but most were more happy about the fact that I was doing something than they were about what I was actually doing. Through tactful words and phrases, I could tell that they thought my music was garbage, but they were happy that I was expressing myself creatively after years of stagnation. Tactfulness always has, and likely always will, feel like a backhanded slap with a velvet glove.

For a time, I put my musical aspirations on hold to focus on graduate school. After attaining my Master’s degree, my life slowly started getting worse instead of better. I was out of a job. I was off of my medications because I couldn’t afford them. I was hopeless, at times even suicidal. Worst of all, I had no desire to create anything. I couldn’t make myself write any new songs or even finish the songs I had started writing previously. I stopped writing, rendering my music blog an image dump more than a place for articles and introspection. In my mind, 2018 was as bad as any year can get. Then 2019 came along and was much worse, and then of course 2020 arrived and obliterated any shred of hope many of us had for personal achievement. Strangely, however, 2020 saw the clouds over my creative slump lift a little. I decided to take the money I accrued from unemployment benefits and buy some new toys. From those new toys came new song ideas, and those new song ideas provoked the need for even more toys. Now in 2021, I have a nice little noisemaker’s starter pack, save for a couple of pieces. Now, in 2021, I am still struggling to find the motivation to create. Through this probably too-long piece, I was hoping to have some sort of grand revelation about the origin of my inaction. As I usually do, I analyze myself and my problems to absolute goddamn death until I finally reach what, objectively and soundly, has to be the truth. People like Tonya Harding, using Margot Robbie and Hollywood screenwriters as a conduit, might assert that there is “no such thing as truth”, but I must disagree. The truth is sort of like having a really good vaginal orgasm or sneezing at just the right moment or finally scratching an itchy patch of skin in just the right way - it’s an undeniable sense of elation, a moment where you no longer have to think about anything - you can just be. The problem with executive dysfunction, therefore, is that you cannot make yourself cum in any spatial sense. There is no ability to find the summit you’ve been climbing towards in your head for months. The summit is utterly unattainable, shrouded in a thick layer of fog that refuses to let up. You have put on your green boots for nothing and now you’re frozen in time, a lime-hued marker of impending doom for all others looking for what you failed to find. In other words, I have not been able to fully understand what it is that keeps me from writing, or playing, or singing, or drawing, or doing all the things that adolescent me was so convinced I was destined to do. I have not found that truth yet. The only thing left to do is to maintain the will to keep searching. As long as there is a desire too look, there is a desire

to discover, and further on, perhaps even the possibility of completion - a sort of inner peace that comes with the satisfaction that you finally did the thing. You did it. You made the thing. Now it’s time to make another thing, and another thing, and so on and so forth until you gasp for your last bit of oxygen. In the meantime though, that fitted sheet is a great place for my cat to plan sneak attacks.

Alyson Stewart

THE ONLY NOISE I'VE MADE RECEN TLY IS SCREA MING INTERN ALLY

BASNIA. I THINK I'M DARK BY NATURE Joanna Kaniewska

Baśnia Lipińska is a singer and composer, currently living between Warsaw, Poland and Sweden, Stockholm. Her first album, “No Falling Stars and No Wishes” combines melodies from gothic 1980s with strong message about love and justice (basnia.bandcamp.com) Interview conducted by Asia, a full-time translator, and an amateur blogger/radio host. She’s in love with music, all kinds of speculative fiction, studies of humanities, and Japan.

My first question is... I'm very interested in how people jump from liking something to doing it. Like, first you like the music and then some people become vocalists or musicians, and some simply don’t. And so, I wonder what was your path as an artist? How did you start, what was your motivation, and how did you make this “jump” to the place you are now? I think, as usual, it's kind of a childhood dream, I wanted to sing, I wanted to be an actress or a singer… When I was 13-14, I started to compose melodies for poems. And I started to learn how to sing when I was 19, which is pretty late. Before my actual band I had few music projects and I was singing also as a guest on a few albums. Being 30-something years old I felt that I have a vision of what kind of music I want to play and that I want to make music on my own terms so I started writing songs and created “basnia”. It started as my solo project, but after gathering the musicians now it is a real band, recording albums, playing concerts and I love it. Feel free! About the right to love on your own rules, about the tolerance and ignorance, about being lonely and despised among people, about how the rich world is watching wars from afar, about a crush between an old and young generation, about love which is my only religion, also about sexual abuse. All those topics are in my songs, these are the things I wanted to shout out. I remember when we were chatting once and I asked you if your songs are political, or is it just my reading… And you said that they are political. Definitely! When I started writing songs, these topics were very present in Poland, so also I felt like it was my responsibility to talk about it. In Poland, the understanding of human rights, women's rights, minority rights, tolerance... is still not as obvious as it should be. And you’re working on the second album now? How is it going? Especially with pandemics, it probably complicates everything… Yes, it complicates everything… We are quite close to the final but yes, it’s going much slower… And I’m in Sweden now, so it’s also not helping. And what will you sing about this time? Not politics…

No, not politics. I think it will be quite a sad album, mostly about breakup. I was processing it a year ago, and for the first time I felt depression, I touched my bottom, so I wanted to use everything I felt at that time to have really honest and emotional lyrics and songs. So on this album I will share a very dark moment in my life, but also a huge hope for a better tomorrow. I believe many people know these feelings. It is important that these difficult moments strengthen us. And what is your audience, for example on bandcamp? Is it Polish or international? Do you even check it? Or you were like “whatever, let’s publish our album and see what happens”? I’m very happy (in a proud way) because all CD’s are sold out, so right now we are only selling digital album on bandcamp. I’m happy to see people not only from Poland but also from States, Canada, Norway, UK, Russia, France, Belgium… that are interested in our music. I also wonder if you experienced any prejudices about you… being a woman? I know that happens in other scenes, like prog, or industrial, so I wonder what is Polish gothic scene, or international gothic scene, when it comes to this issue. It’s not bad, because I know that in many genres of music, female vocals are not that much welcomed, but here it’s quite well received, people are used to hearing female vocals in this kind of music. Unfortunately there are a lot of sexist stereotypes about goth girls. But it’s changing. I feel that the people are changing in a good way. Most people are happy to hear our music, and they are focused on the music, not on me as a woman. I want to be perceived as a musician, a vocalist, not a sexy girl in front of the band. It’s nothing wrong with it but I’d feel uncomfortable in this kind of role. I guess I still don't have the strength or the willingness to deal with sexism, so I try not to give it an opportunity to appear. I feel ya. Although it is sad, that you are constantly aware of this effect and that this awareness is playing a part in your decisions… Yes, exactly! It is very sad that we need to think about what we should wear so as not to hear comments about it. That in the end women give up their freedom to avoid the situation that they don’t want. I am really curious about the Sweden thing. Would you like to describe your relationship with Sweden, and especially now, why are you there and not in Warsaw? I feel like there is some interesting story behind that…

I can say that I felt stuck and I needed a big change, to change everything in my life… it was probably connected to that depression episode and also the pandemic. So I started to think about what I want to do with the rest of my life, if I’m happy here, what would make me happy, how can I feel fulfilled in my life, what should I change to achieve it and where in the world can I feel good between people. I was in Sweden when I was a child, when I was 7-8 years old, we went there for vacation with my family, so I have a kind of sentiment to Sweden from that time… and I hoped that I can find there people thinking similarly to me. I felt stuck in my head and I didn’t want to waste anymore time. I started visiting Sweden and I met my love in Stockholm. I get it. And that’s so cute that you found your love! So, do you plan to move there permanently? Yes, that’s the plan. And what about “basnia”? We will see. Right now, we are focusing on finishing our second album, an I hope that we will play concert as a support band for The Mission in Poland [which was rescheduled two times, because of COVID], I would really like to play this gig, so I hope we will do it, even if it’s in 2022 and I would need to fly from Sweden. We don’t have bigger plans right now. We focus on what is now and in the near future around the second album. But you will still make music, right? Of course. It’s hard for me to imagine not to make music. It’s the thing I’m most proud of from what I have done in my life, so I don’t want to stop. I want to get better and better, and be even more proud of what I’m doing. I even feel that the best is yet to come. new album by Basnia comes out in May 2022

HABITAD - HABITAR - HABITACIÓN Miro mi alrededor Me enfrasco ¿Soledad? No entiendo. Ecos, ruido, rechinar de ventanas oxidadas, viento, lluvia, TEMOR .... indago, busco, como si fuese una extraña en un mundo imperceptible que es más que una carga sobre un pizo de madera y me hundo, l e n t a m e n t e, en un infinito letargo, navegando en mares de desesperación. ABRO MIS OJOS Y CORRO, me siento perdida, no reconozco, GRITO, me exalto, ¡¡¡¡¡DESESPERACIÓN!!!!!! y caigo, caigo caigo CAIGO, hondo profundo, oscuro , tormento, sufrimiento, pesadillas, dolor SILENCIO. 4 paredes, paredes manchadas, rayadas, humedas, PODRIDAS, ¿soy yo? me he mimetizado, he muerto.

1. ногируки - мене бери 2. Yotzeret Sheydim - Spell of warding against the military 3. Darja Kazimira - Матінка Сира-Земля (Ukrainian zagovor (rite) - appeal to Mother Raw Earth) 4. Fashiongore - HRT 5. Kristina Warren - Kristina Warren - Penta 6. Keren Batok & Tolga Baklacioglu - Secret Doctrine 7. Leperwitch - Pleadings 8. Temperance of Sleep - heliotherapy 9. Insurgent Elegance - Unresting Elegance 10. Zavoloka - Obriad 11. Bestial Mouths - In Ruins 12. ISOTROPÍA - Last Supper (Piano Version) 13. Jackrabbit Hare - The Second Tenth of a Second 14. Spookstina - Departure 15. ногируки - втома Women* of Noise - For Ocalenie compilation album is a reaction to events of 2022 and Russian invasion of Ukraine. 100% of the proceeds will be donated to Fundacja Ocalenie (en.ocalenie.org.pl) - Polish organization dedicated to providing long time support for refugees that cross the Polish border womenofnoise.bandcamp.com/album/for-ocalenie

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