Photos by Krista Brewer and Johne Edge
“The Neverending Tour of Everywhere” caught my attention as such an interesting way to describe the life of traveling musicians. After a while, one city must blend itself into another, restaurants become interchangeable, the siren song of a home cooked meal always out of reach; Michelin stars are no match for food cooked from the soul.
And so we find ourselves – on the floor-side of the stage – gold-washing the tour life; imagining the sheer excitement of places to see and moments to experience. But on the floor side, we can move freely about our lives. We do not have managers to whom we must answer, a crew to consider, or unmanageable tour costs whittling away at the bottom line.
The Fillmore lived up to its name, as I have never witnessed the venue filled with more women and girls at a show the entire 40 years I’ve lived in Colorado. I had to wipe away tears in between shots because I was so proud of the parents who chose to bring their daughters to a Sunday night show, knowing full well that they would end up paying the price the next morning. There are few things more difficult than attempting to wrangle a kid who just wants to sleep – but the parents chose memories over REM and this show was something I hope Denver’s daughters won’t soon forget.
The Punk/Ska scene has one of the most supportive and loyal fan bases amongst all musical genres and I think there is a simple reason for this: honesty. We are an honest people, unashamed of our scars and proud of our triumphs. We reject perfection as it is unattainable and thus a mockery of the beautiful, somewhat twisted, journey of life. So when a musician forces themselves to write their life stories in easily digestible paragraphs we react to their truths. It’s hard to lie to punks.
When I was first introduced to punk in 8th grade, I lived in a small country town completely sheltered from anything not 100% White and Christian. We did not watch TV unless the Broncos were losing. We did not listen to secular music, even though ours was a home filled with musicians. But one day, a comp CD found its way into my Discman, and I discovered MxPx. I finally found sounds that made sense to me. That started my life of crime – crime against parents anyway. I quickly learned that MxPx scrawled in sharpie granted an automatic pass as the parents had determined that those kids were alright. Every mixtape CD had MxPx titled from then on so I could hide the music that my parents hated.
We only had Gwen Stefani as a young female voice in the scene and so I had “Just A Girl” on repeat for about 5 years of my life as it was a hauntingly perfect description of my experiences as the daughter of youth pastors. But now, we have so many incredibly talented women forcing light on every part of our lives, I finally feel represented, and I am not the only one.
The girls are alright.
Post Note – The weekend performances from female fronted bands Suzi Moon and The Interrupters really shown a light on today’s strong female performers. That being said, you can never go wrong with Frank Turner and The Sleepless Souls who rounded out a fantastic weekend of music.
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