By: Katie Walkley, Peak Associate
When spending time in Vancouver’s public spaces, I notice it is common practice to avoid eye contact. Instead of engaging in other people’s lives, we tend to stay focused on our own.
I used to think all of Vancouver was like this — cold, distant, impersonal. Then, two years ago, I started going to some of the city’s punk shows. When my friends first introduced me to them, I did not understand the appeal of thrashing around with strangers, especially after hearing stories of bloody noses. However, once I finally built up the courage to join the mosh pit, I realized why they love it so much. It tends to the human need for community.
The focus everyone has on the present connects them all, unlike average interactions on the street, where people have their minds to themselves, thinking about their own worries. The punk dance style is so visceral that it takes us into an animal-like state where we have a rare opportunity to express ourselves freely beyond social norms in a public space. Since everyone there becomes connected through dancing together, it creates a place where you can go out by yourself and still feel like you belong.
When it feels like the world is cruel, that means it’s time to join a mosh pit to escape from our collective isolation.
At my first punk show, I discovered one of my now-favourite local bands: Luella. Their intense rhythm creates a hypnotic attachment to the music and the people around you. After their first song, they screamed at the crowd about how the world is awful and scary. They then reassured us that it is OK to be mad and invited us to let out our anger together. This was the first time in my life that I had seen an adult be fully honest about the painful state of the world and how it affects them. It wasn’t just aimless complaining — it was righteous anger that made me realize rage is an incredible tool which opens the door to caring. Sometimes it’s uncomfortable to care, but when surrounded by people who make me believe in a better future, it feels like a great relief to finally allow myself to feel the pain I have always ignored in my efforts to stay comfortable.
A part of our local scene that puts their anger into action is a group of artists under the name of Dumpster Fire Distro. They are often seen at shows giving away free zines with a goal of bringing forward suppressed knowledge. The content spans topics from Indigenous stories to 2SLGBTQIA+ history to anarchism, and beyond. Although punk shows are mostly filled with levity and fun, they have always been a space for speaking up against injustice. For instance, back in 1993, there was a punk show at the Commodore Ballroom in support of the protesters protecting old–growth trees in Clayoquot Sound. The relationship between live music and politics makes so much sense because they are both crucial ways that we connect with each other.
The communities made in the mosh pit encourage a faith in humanity that inspires people to pick up the fight for human rights. It removes the separation we tend to create between strangers and reminds us we are all part of something bigger. Thinking about the impact that punk shows have had on me reinforces my belief in the importance of the time we spend in public. The way we see others has the power to completely shift our entire worldviews. So, when it feels like the world is cruel, that means it’s time to join a mosh pit to escape from our collective isolation.
Katie’s local punk recommendations
Favourite venue: The Alf House is an outdoor venue in someone’s backyard.
Favourite band: After the Fox has incredible stage presence.
Find more punk events at vancouverpunkcalendar.
