The riot

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Fea Fights Fascism with Feminism
San Antonio Chicana punk band Fea calls for a revolution.

“THE MEMBERS OF San Antonio’s Fea - an acronym for “fuck ’em all” and the Spanish word for “ugly girl” - play commanding and unabashedly political queer Chicanx punk that’s rooted in their bicultural upbringings and riot grrrl feminism. Their name is both reclamation and affirmation: “We wanted to own the word Fea,” says bassist Jenn Alva. “So what if we are?”

Over the summer the band released a self-titled debut on Joan Jett’s Blackheart Records. With a team of legendary producers that included Laura Jane Grace of Against Me! and Alice Bag of the Bags, it’s no surprise that Fea’s sound snarls with high-quality ferocity.

But their new record was a long time coming - drummer Phanie Diaz and Alva first bonded over music in middle school, when they discovered a shared love of Nirvana. Determined to start a band, the duo enlisted Diaz’s sister Nina and became Girl in a Coma, which Alva describes as “angsty alternative.” They had a successful run, and even opened for the likes of Morrissey and Tegan and Sara, but amicably split so Nina could focus on her solo career. Alva and Phanie saw an opening, and drew upon the influences of their riot grrrl-fueled youths to actualize Fea once and for all.”

Read the full piece here

Turn Around

Place a bet
on someone
and the world slows its turning
to get a better look.
Do I know you
from somewhere, do I know you
from the warm future?
If not, can I still
call that night tonight, can I
still call your mind a friend?

I choose to be quiet.
The votive anyway
is enough to dazzle you.
I think deep down the years, then
stop totally following
your sublime idea.
In the pristine movie set goodbye,
the man goes into a palace,
which he gets to
through her mind.
The truth is it’s subterranean, and in it
pain brought over the channel
is scattered, still
all finding its place. There they
rifle through an idea
that’s not ready to be debated.
She abandoned her
post on the marble steps
with a cigarette
in front of the garish for-rent sign
waiting for a love that comparatively
wasn’t so bad.

Sometimes
you look forward to something
that’s not far off
like being able to do
a difficult task on fine equipment.
This weekend I wish you well.
Every day
I will wish you well
until I understand
where all the wishing goes.
My machine needs me. My mind
needs me. It doesn’t
have a mark on it,
no evidence of slumping
in and out of vessels all year trying
to be wanted and of service to
benefactors.

The only thing that makes a ghost
of a man must be a feeling
sure enough,
surer even than mine
for him,
slipped between his ribs. Then
goodnight ghost,
good morning too, good ten a.m.,
good eleven, good noon.
There’s a level of chaos
in the station this morning
well-suited
to the year. Even
in this rush, a cool
approximation of the season
running over
my embers, there’s
something playful
about you still, and warm,
standing at a later date, at the edge
of the circle that makes my world,
if I walk
wide and realize something, then
turn around.

It’s one in the morning
And my usual time to sleep
Is three in the morning when
You usually become busy and leave
But that is during the week and now
The weekend has approached and
You have work but now
He opens on Saturdays at three my time
And so I’m awake.
I’m awake and I fear I won’t sleep
Because I haven’t slept yet
And I’m so used to staying up for you
And now I’m staying up for him
And I’m awake I’m awake I’m awake I’m awake.
— 

Will I ever sleep again?

( @readyfornothing )

“It is not enough for me to stand before you tonight and condemn riots. It would be morally irresponsible for me to do that without, at the same time, condemning the contingent, intolerable conditions that exist in our society. These conditions are the things that cause individuals to feel that they have no other alternative than to engage in violent rebellions to get attention. And I must say tonight that a riot is the language of the unheard.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. | “The Other America.” Grosse Pointe High School (1968)