Hardcore and punk music have attributed a lot to my character, my values, and the ways in which I treat my counterparts. I’m unconditionally grateful for the female artists who have shaped how I look at myself and the other women in my life. I was looking forward to seeing a woman I admire deeply talk about her experiences in recovery and music.
I went to a reading of Patty Schemel’s autobiography, Hit So Hard, in New York City. After Patty read about her band, Hole, and her struggles with substance abuse, she asked us if we had any questions. I raised my hand and asked her if she thought that women in the punk and hardcore scene are treated better today than they were in the 90s. She looked at me and said, “No, I don’t think they are being treated better by any means.”
That was the answer I was expecting.
The hardcore community that I know resides in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. In the winter of 2017, and in the spring of 2018, local bands and musicians came together to raise money for Planned Parenthood. Wilkes-Barre was the first place to show me what it looks like to attend shows with hopes to achieve a better life through music. Wilkes-Barre’s shows are full of many different people who are more or less there for the same reasons: friends, music, community, and to feel like they belong somewhere that matters.
Shows can be a tough place for women.
There is a saying that often pops up on online hardcore messenger boards, “no clit in the pit.” There is a fear of being intentionally hit, touched, grouped, or harassed while in the mosh pit, because you are a woman. There is also the fear that any of these things will happen and nobody will care because you came here on your own and are thereby responsible for whatever happens to you. Violence against women is happening everywhere in venues across the country. It’s happening in the places where women are told they are the safest. It’s an epidemic that has grown out of control.
Audience and band members are rarely held accountable for their actions. Sexual abusers are constantly being forgiven. Harry Corrigan, the drummer of the New York-based band REGULATE, sexually assaulted a woman in summer of 2012. Fans called this assault “alleged,” because they don’t want to believe that their friends and favorite musicians are abusers. This “innocent until proven guilty” approach contributes to the stigma that women are dishonest about the behavior asserted by their aggressors. Corrigan made the following statement two years later:
(Corrigan, 2015).
REGULATE continues to house Corrigan, even with the knowledge of his past behavior. This speaks volumes of the character of his bandmates, as well as those who continue to book and support the group. This summer they are playing This is Hardcore Fest, an annual punk music festival in Philadelphia. If the hardcore community doesn’t care about booking a rapist then doing so becomes relatively acceptable; ignorance breeds ignorance. It’s unfathomable to think that those who know what Corrigan did are still feeding his career. Celebrating REGULATE’s music is disgraceful. To openly allow a rapist to perform in a space that is supposed to be safe is shameful. It seems as if there is no pressure to take accountability.
Most men often get to speak from a place of safety, a place that women are not fortunate enough to occupy. It’s devastating to think about the how the woman Corrigan assaulted must feel. Once people started to stand up for Corrigan and accept his unspeakable actions, her community was lost. How safe can a show be if rapists and aggressors are welcome there? The victim is often forgotten because that is what is easy. It’s easy to ignore what has happened in order to allow the community to carry on unchanged.
The hardcore music scene is truly not a safe place for women. I say this because the evidence presented suggests that fandom prioritizes their image over individuals’ safety. Women are welcome at shows until their rapist or aggressor is playing the gig. While I would like to speak up for all women in the hardcore scene, I will not speak for them.
There is a huge lack of female visibility at shows. Lineups at shows and festivals rarely feature women, which makes it appear like there aren’t many female-fronted hardcore bands. But this is because many aren’t granted any kind of platform, resulting in a lot of hardcore girl bands going unnoticed. Knock us around in the pit, and don’t let us perform.
I recently listened to a music podcast called The Callout. It featured the story of a young woman named Emily who spent a lot of time in the Richmond, Virginia hardcore scene. After she graduated from college she toured with her friend’s band and met a guy she was interested in. An acquaintance warned her that he wasn’t a very good person, and that she shouldn’t hang out with him. Emily ended up letting him and his band stay at her apartment one night while they were on tour. He slept in bed with her and they started kissing. It started off consensual, but Emily soon grew uneasy due to the fact that his bandmates were sleeping just outside of the bedroom. Once she announced her discomfort, he got up and locked the door. They eventually fell asleep. Emily woke up to him touching her. She pretended to remain sleeping in hopes that it would end quickly. Emily said, “I was very uncomfortable with it and [was] hoping that he would just stop on his own. And eventually he did after, like, I guess he got what he wanted out of it. And it’s like ruined, like, that – it’s just stuck in my head, in, like, my body and my skin.”
His band had a lot of influence and power in the scene. Emily assumed that regardless of what she said, her abuser would be backed by his friends and fans. Years passed before Emily eventually decided to use the internet to call out her aggressor, which inspired several other women to come forward and share their own abusive experiences within the scene.Â
I’ve noticed that it’s difficult to ask other women about the lack of representation, respect, and the sexual violence happening in our music community. There is a very obvious hesitation about discussing these topics, as if they’re afraid of saying the wrong thing. Fear of retaliation is a huge contributor to the silence surrounding abuse within the hardcore fandom.Â
It’s common to be dismissed for being both female and resilient, but women do not need to adjust their feelings or repress things that happened to them in order to preserve the reputation of others. The values that surround the music we love are inconsistent with violence. So, the fact that violence against women is a common occurrence in the hardcore scene is deeply unsettling.
If we don’t continuously address this issue and have open conversations about it, then those who have never been through it or felt the weight of its devastation might forget that it’s even an issue. It is pivotal to make those who carry the burden of sexual assault aware of the fact that they have support and love.Â
Hardcore is about doing the right thing in the name of social justice. If we want that justice to be both honest and efficient than it must begin with those within the community. It may cost something to do the right thing, but you should do it anyway. Speak up if it feels right and call out those who hurt others. The only way to get through pain is to address it.