Every girl had a teenage idol…mine was Brody Dalle. Up until listening to The Distillers, I didn’t think girls did punk rock. Sure there were plenty out there (Patti Smith, Joan Jett, Siouxsie Siouxk, Debbie Harry), but Dalle’s voice was something else. She just sounded so bad ass, and I wanted so badly to be bad ass.
I feel pretty bad ass now, maybe not in the way Brody Dalle was bad ass…but I have lived a pretty bad ass life thus far.
Enough with the bad asses…
I have been truly fortuitous to have such a wonderful and supportive family. I spent a lot of time with friends from broken homes that experienced it all, from drug addict parents to physical & mental abuse. Punk music brought us together. It allowed me to vicariously experience the pain and anguish they were going through that a lot of the time went unexpressed. It taught me to put myself in someone else’s shoes. For some, things never got better. Others have grown up to be incredibly successful people, and never forget where they came from. I have tremendous respect for that.
So, next time you think about punk music, remember that it isn’t just about a bunch of stupid kids doing stupid stuff… it is a raw form of expression that a lot of these kids relied on to get through the day. Sure the lyrics are crass and the instrumentals are often careless, but it is genuine.
❤ Rest In Peace to the eminently creative people I have met along the way that took their lives amidst depression. Your friends all miss you greatly. ❤
Tomorrow: “Mutations” by Beck. Cold brains, Unmoved, Untouched, Unglued, Alone at last.