New Year’s Eve 12.31.2022 | Zookraught’s Stephanie Jones on New Year’s Eve in University District.
Artist Statement
In July 2022, Martha’s Vineyard (called The Jolly Roger at the time), an underground house show venue in Seattle, held the “Relive the ‘90s” house show. It had an impressive lineup, not uncommon for a Seattle DIY show: The Terra Nobody, The Tonins, locally adored Asterhouse, and of course, Counterproductive with a grand finale mosh pit. I remember hearing an audience member joking to Shane, a friend I made at the venue, “This is definitely an OSHA violation.” It was a fair criticism of the house show scene, one that I am fully complicit in. In a small space, in the midst of a heat wave, among the third year of a global pandemic, and a then-recent outbreak of Monkeypox in King County, we were moshing–head banging, screaming, maskless, gasping for air. By the end of Counterproductive’s set, the crowd jogged up the stairs to get fresh air. Shane and I used our shirts as towels to wipe up excess sweat. Jacob Curran, Counterproductive’s lead singer, was cleaning up his vomit off the floor, after giving one of his best and most high energy performances I have seen.
Why risk our health so recklessly? Over and over again.
Maybe the musicians are too talented for their own good. It could be that we love the scene too much.
It’s possible that the local music scene has become a refuge. A space within the greater Seattle metropolitan area hit again and again by the despair of income inequality, a mental health and addiction crisis, a housing crisis, and countless other socio-political issues. Perhaps the shows have become a beacon for social grounds again, where people can relearn to mingle among a shared love and experience of the music.
Transcendent 10.14.2022 | Gender Envy’s vocalist, Cass Noonan, performing at Seattle’s Jewelbox Theater.
Brotherhood 12.28.2022 | 11x14 Textured Matte | Counterproductive’s Jacob Curran holding up his brother, Sean Curran outside Real Art Tacoma.
Or maybe I am just projecting. Everyone has a different relationship with the music scene.
One of the things I respect the most about music is that it can force us to confront the nuances of our own pain, especially through live performance. As someone who knows nothing about how to write music, play an instrument, music theory, and the like, it is incredible to watch how these musical artists turn their experiences, including painful ones, into, well, beautiful and vulnerable expressions of art. I think of the opening lyrics to Vanilla Abstract’s “Isn’t It Ugly?” –how lead vocalist and keyboardist Erika Gersten shifts from a soft and pensive to a powerful, raw, and pain-stricken tone. I think of the enchanting dissociative psychedelism of The Groovy Nobody’s “Perfect World” and The Departure’s “Tomorrow”. I think of Liv Victorino’s reflective “Before the World Ends” and “Steer Close My Love.” I think of Sean and Jake, and their growth as performers over the past two years–more daring, more unafraid, more aggressive, more wild. They lead the mosh. They give their all. They make us scream ‘IT’S LIKE A CIRCUS!’ with them.
I named this project in honor of the songs "Creatures of Habit" by Faith in Strangers and "Before the World Ends" by Seattle-based artist Liv Victorino.
