An Interview… But it’s Midwest Emo: A Conversation with the Founders of Emocon

I’m always a little embarrassed to tell people I listen to emo music. Normally, I just prefer to say a few band names that I’ve been listening to lately and bury the lead until I know I can start saying things like “midwest emo revival,” “twinkledaddies,” or “Senff-Core.” Outside of college campuses, emo is often flattened into a 2000s genre primarily meant for tweens who wear black jeans, which seems pretty silly to obsess about.

Since its inception in the mid-80s, emo has had a bit of a credibility issue. As a relatively new genre with an ever-broadening sound, people seem to prefer to treat emo music and its surrounding culture as a flavor of punk or alternative. This fails to acknowledge unique aspects of the genre and prevents deeper cultural understanding and scholarship. 

This year, Varun Chandrasekhar (Washington University in St. Louis) and Patrick Mitchell (University of Cincinnati) are changing that. Together, they masterminded a first-of-its-kind conference at WashU in St. Louis, Missouri, on April 10th and 11th, dubbed “A Conference… but It’s Midwest(ern) Emo” or Emocon for short. With the help of nearly 40 researchers from across the US, Canada, the United Kingdom, and the Czech Republic, they are changing the game for emo scholarship in academia. They’ve also secured two incredible keynote speakers for the conference: Dan Ozzi, author of  SELLOUT: The Major-Label Feeding Frenzy That Swept Punk, Emo, and Hardcore (1994-2007), and Steve Lamos, the drummer and trumpet player for American Football, who is also an associate professor of writing and rhetoric at the University of Colorado-Boulder. 

I was lucky enough to chat with Varun and Patrick to learn how they met, what they think emo is—beyond music—and how they put this conference together. We also touch on topics in academia, such as topical timeliness, overcoming credibility gaps, dealing with missing data, and removing barriers to access. 

The full interview is provided below, edited down for length and clarity. 


SWIM: Thank you both so much for agreeing to sit down to talk about this upcoming conference. To get started, could you each say a little bit about yourselves and how the two of you met?

PATRICK:  I’ve been doing graduate work at the University of Cincinnati for five years. I did my master’s work here at UC, and I’m currently a PhD candidate at CCM [College-Conservatory of Music at UC].

VARUN:  I’m a fifth-year PhD candidate in music theory at Washington University in St. Louis, [Missouri], where the conference will be hosted.

PATRICK:  I knew Varun as like a micro-celebrity in the pop music scholarship world on Twitter before I knew him in person. Back when Twitter was still hanging on to any threads of relevance. But yeah, I met Varun at a Q&A for one of my papers at a conference in Minneapolis. We just hit it off, and it was at that conference that we jokingly pitched the idea of Emocon.

VARUN:  Yeah, we met each other at the International Association for the Study of Popular Music Conference (IASPM).  What we were talking about then was this generation of people who grew up with bands like Fall Out Boy, Dashboard Confessional, Paramore—or emo revival and fourth wave to some extent—now sort of being the age to have a PhD or be writing a dissertation.

This is something that really means a lot to me and I think is really important, so we had just been trying to plant a seed to get this conference to happen, and then a couple of grants came back favorably, and, uh, here we are. 

SWIM:  When was this conference that you’re talking about in Minneapolis? 

PATRICK: Summer of ’23, I believe. 

SWIM: Wow, okay. So this idea has been in the works. 

VARUN: We had been thinking about it for a while.  IASPM, the US chapter, had a couple of calls for funding ideas, and we had tried them, and we struck out twice. Then WashU had what they call a “Redefining Doctoral Education” grant that was provided on behalf of the Mellon Foundation,  and we were very fortunate to get that.

SWIM:  That’s amazing. Thank you guys for continuing to try at it. Can you say the name of your conference? I’m going to ask you to elaborate on the title for those of us who might not be so online.

VARUN:  So the conference is called “A Conference… but It’s Midwest(ern) Emo.” If you’re not familiar—well, first off, in the Midwestern emo tradition especially, often what you will get is a band taking a clip from a show and then playing what people often refer to as a “twinkle riff” underneath it.  A really foundational one is the Mom Jeans one with Bob’s Burgers.  What people do on the internet then is, they’ll take these clips, often of very sad moments from TV shows or movies, and they’ll play a twinkly Midwest emo riff underneath it. It’s sort of this comedic mismatch and context collapse. They’re very funny, they’re on the internet, and there are a million of ’em you can find.

SWIM:  Nice. And you thought naming the conference in this format would be… good? [laughing] for its reach?

VARUN:  We thought it would get the people who we wanted to come, to come.

SWIM:  Oh, definitely, I think it hits the right audience. So, you’re both music researchers. Can I ask what your working dissertation titles are—if you have one—and how does emo specifically fit into them?

PATRICK: Sooo, working dissertation title… [laughs] My dissertation is on emo, and—this is not a unique stance at all but—I’m looking at third-wave emo in the context of post-9/11 US. But what I’m really interested in are the contradictions and displays of counterculture in a post-subcultural music industry.

SWIM: [confused eyebrows]

PATRICK:  So, you know, counterculture and mainstream culture are essentially the same after the ’90s. So, I am looking at how third-wave emo used its mainstream platform to speak back to the status quo, but also at how it used the status quo for its own corporate and commercial gains.

SWIM:  I gotcha. So this conference slots right in there. 

PATRICK: Oh yeah.  And we’re so lucky to have so many papers that talk about emo and 9/11. I think this is a great opportunity for music studies to get into post-9/11 studies, which is a really, really robust academic field that is now 25 years after the attacks. We can now really treat this time period with the academic vigor that it needs.

 I don’t necessarily remember 9/11, just my age, I thought it was a tornado drill. So I didn’t necessarily understand the cultural significance at the time, but I lived in that world afterwards, and I think emo is a great avenue to study this really consequential decade, which not only had a paradigm shift in the US, but a global paradigm shift that just completely rewrote the way we interact with the rest of the world.

SWIM:  Yeah, absolutely. And, Varun, what about you? What’s your thesis title?

VARUN:  My thesis title is Being in Jazz: An Existential Analysis of Charles Mingus. So, that reads the life and music of Charles Mingus through the lens of Sartre and existentialism to discuss the way that the often racialized, commercialized, and urbanized gaze of jazz bands on jazz musicians limited their freedoms, and how that speaks to discourses of freedom in a post-World-War-II America. So, very little to do with emo. [Laughter]

Although I do maintain Charles Mingus would like emo, and I’m happy to talk about why that is the case. But, yeah, I’d also been pursuing this idea of, what can I say about emo music in my other projects, class essays, and doing some conference presentations about it, so it’s sort of morphed into these two scholarly fields that I was pursuing. 

SWIM:  I gotcha. Really interesting. Since we’re talking about emo a lot and since a lot of people have different definitions, even for the same genre, can I ask each of you to just give a quick boilerplate definition of emo and any bands you might point to as an example?

VARUN: … you’re gonna get people mad at us.

PATRICK:  Well, what I think is fascinating about emo is that it’s difficult to define sonically because the waves are so disparate. You know… [exasperated sigh]

SWIM:  What I’m asking is really like a positionality statement. I think the issue with emo discourse is that a lot of people don’t say what they think emo is, and then they argue with other people, and they don’t even have a baseline that they agree on. So I’m asking, what is your baseline definition of emo? And you’re right, sonically, it’s really difficult to say anything, but I imagine there are some other interesting things.

VARUN: I would say Matthew Carillo-Vincent provides probably the best understanding of it in his article “Wallflower Masculinities and the Peripheral Politics of Emo” (2013) where he says emo is defined as a normative critique of normativity that uses performances of non-hegemonic masculinity to challenge hegemonic masculinity, but while still embracing hegemonic identities—you know, your sort of straight, upper-middle-class white man. It often reflects as a critique of sub-hegemonic cultures, such as hardcore cultures.

And so I think that is probably the social position of emo, and why a lot of people will say things like, “Everything is emo now; your grandmother’s emo.” That’s one category of it. I think there are some roots in the hardcore tradition that have to be present. I would say there is a certain vocal styling: the sort of whiny, nasally, upper register. And then a certain alt-rock, loud-soft dynamic. I think those are probably getting most everything there. I don’t know, Patrick, what would you say?

PATRICK:  Yeah, I think you’re spot on with the voice.  And—not that blink-182 is necessarily emo—but when people make a caricature of the emo voice, they often think of Tom DeLonge’s voice.  And I think especially of vocal drawls, like the over-pronunciation of certain words or the under-pronunciation of certain words, is really a clear indicator of the genre. If that vocal drawl isn’t necessarily present in a song that could go either way, you lean towards emo, so I think the voice is a huge, huge part of that.

VARUN:  And to that, Patrick—I’ve thought about this, and Braden, you might have an opinion too—what band do you think if you asked everyone who self-identified as an emo fan, “is this band emo?” would get the most votes, assuming that person knows the band. 

SWIM:  Yeah, this is a really tricky thing with selection bias because—I mean, MCR, Fall Out Boy, Paramore, the big three—obviously everyone knows those are “emo.” But part of the aesthetic and actual social impact of emo bands is that they’re countercultural. They’re undercurrents. They’re DIY. They’re not played on the radio. It’s not something your mom has ever heard. 

So, this metric of “what is emo? Oh, it’s the thing that everyone calls emo.” That’s not the most stable because emo is scene-specific. I think that’s also how you get waves and amazing things like Florida-specific emo bands. Like, Hot Water Music was doing its own little thing for years, and eventually it rose up into the rest of the United States.  I don’t know if I want to say that Hot Water Music is emo, but they’re influential within the emo scene. 

FROM TOM MULLEN’S WEBSITE “IS THIS BAND EMO?

VARUN:  Well, that’s the interesting thing, ‘cause—speaking of Florida bands—Dashboard Confessional might be the most [emo]. If you liked that music in the early two thousands, you probably knew “Hands Down” or “Vindicated.”  If you’re really into the hardcore scene and like the emo outgrowth of it, you probably respect Chris Carrabba having at least some tie sonically to that scene. But also saying “Dashboard Confessional is the quintessential emo band,” I don’t know if that sits right with me—and I love Dashboard Confessional.

PATRICK:  Reading through early music critics, when it was really clear to them that emo was not just a flash in the pan but was going to be a lasting youth subcultural phenomena, the two quintessential emo bands they identified were Dashboard Confessional and The Get Up Kids.

VARUN: Really? 

PATRICK: When we think of these “genre-defining” groups [like MCR, FOB, Paramore], they really hadn’t burst onto the scene yet. In the early 2000s, when you thought about emo, you thought about Dashboard Confessional and The Get Up Kids.

The Get Up Kids were a band that I didn’t really know when I was an emo fan growing up. It was one of those that I feel was submerged underneath the mainstream craze of third-wave emo. That could also be a time period thing; at the turn of the century, you have the lingering effects of Midwest emo and the beginnings of third-wave as well.

VARUN:  It’s interesting ‘cause I thought you were going to say Jimmy Eat World, but that’s also somewhat of a reconstruction because, from what I understand of the late 90s/early-2000 scenes, people weren’t really considering Jimmy Eat World an emo band, and now I don’t know if anyone contests that.

SWIM:  Yeah, and Jimmy Eat World is also an interesting example because their two chart-toppers are hits that my mom does actually know. And that album is also a 9/11 thing—it was going to be titled Bleed American, but then it was titled Jimmy Eat World, and then they changed the title back several months later.

And a lot of emo people that I talk to are like “yeah, that album’s great, but you should really listen to Clarity,” which came out several years before. That album has a foot in the door of second wave, whereas their thing that brought them to the mainstream is actually closer to third wave.  Not necessarily vocally, but just its proximity. It’s more related to those bands that you hear playing in the mall or you would’ve heard in 2008. 

VARUN: The production is so crisp. The first time you listen to Clarity, you’re like, “Wow, this is just a little rough around the edges, but these are great songs.” Then Bleed American is peak loudness wars and has really pristine guitar production. Although the best Jimmy Eat World record, in my opinion, is Futures, and no one agrees with me on that, but it’s peak Jimmy Eat World for me. 

SWIM: Yeah, I’ve honestly never heard Futures, so I’ll have to look into it right after this. I’m so glad for all this discourse, which makes this next question a lot easier to answer. Why take the effort to organize a conference and engage more researchers on emo in particular?

PATRICK:  I can think of a few reasons, but one I really like and might punt to Varun. The papers about third-wave emo mostly wanted to talk about “emo,” the cultural phenomenon, but Varun brought something up when we were reviewing the abstracts, which is that emo is affect, with the second-wave emo bands. We weren’t expecting the intellectual diversity that we have [with Emocon], it’s not just, “Okay, well here are 40 papers on MCR, 9/11, and masculinity.” We certainly have some papers that touch on that, but the amount of creativity that some of our presenters have brought to the table has been astounding, and that was an unexpected result of hosting this conference.

VARUN: Yeah. And, to maybe go towards the cultural side, if Kurt Cobain is sort of the figurehead of Gen X—or at least like the underground of Gen X—I don’t think you can make any claim about that with Patrick Stump or someone similar. This idea that if you aren’t represented by Drake or Taylor Swift or Beyonce—and I don’t say that to demean those artists in any way—but like the countercultural identity of the millennial generation really did coalesce around this emo identity.

When we think about the people who are showing their young kids the music of their youth or the definition of what it meant to be against the grain in 2005 and 2008, it’s very much tied to pop-punk and emo. There were definitely people who are more about the DIY scene, or a little more hardcore or whatever, but I think the thing that most crystallized in the popular imagination really is emo, and that’s what comes through in the conference really clearly. 

We are talking about 9/11, and we’re talking about queerness and finding a queer identity. We’re talking about gender, affect, and all of these things that are so central to understanding this. The thing that we are really proud of is that, even if you aren’t really concerned about emo that much, you would still get a lot out of this conference just because it demonstrates a very vivid picture of what the cultural terrain was like in the mid- to late-2000s, and up to our current moment. 

PATRICK: Exactly. I hate to be hyperbolic—but again, going back to the old music criticism of the 2000’s—the amount of times I’ve read emo critics concede that although they criticized this genre initially for being a flash in the pan, that it had become the voice—I hate to say—the voice of a generation for a lot of suburban white kids and a lot of suburban kids in general.

Varun hit the nail right on the head. We have enough historical distance from it now, where this is almost like the ideal time to be diving into this because it’s hardest to historicize the present. I think, especially with emo revival bands, we can see what it is about this subculture that has made it have such a lasting impact on adults and new fans, too.

A MAP SHOWING US CITIES SENDING A PRESENTER TO EMOCON

SWIM: So I’ve read quite a few of the abstracts that are already on the site. I’m trying to make it through all of them before the conference. You said you were surprised about some of the ones you received, so I have two questions. How many abstracts did you receive? And how did the paneling procedure go where you’re grouping these things together? Was that difficult, or were there a bunch of topics that neatly worked out? 

VARUN:  Yeah, I think we got 55 or 56 abstracts in total, somewhere a little under 60. The selection was just courtesy of me and Patrick, so if you want to send some hate mail, we are the two people to send it to. But we found it actually just fell into place pretty naturally. There are 12 total panels, and maybe 9 of them were pretty obvious. I don’t think we really even had to stretch that much to add more. I think that just speaks to the equally distributed care that people have for this genre. 

You know, one of the stereotypes of emo is that it is a place for a very specific type of white man to voice their complaints about women.  And these panels are something that really shows that’s not the case, man. One of the abstracts was about finding queer identity in Modern Baseball. And as someone who loves Modern Baseball, but who’s not queer, I was like, “Wow, you know, I’m kind of surprised about that.” Then I was talking to a queer friend of mine, and they said, “Oh yeah, that makes sense, and I think like actually a lot of MoBo fans would agree.” It’s exposing us to this diversity of thought about emo that exists even beyond the realms of someone who’s very immersed in these discourses.

PATRICK:  And Varun, to his credit, was a mastermind at looking at the large picture. It took a very short amount of time because I feel like he could zoom out and see the conference, and it was just a matter of putting all the abstracts together. It was really, really incredible. I think we had graded the abstracts and also put together the panels that evening.

So it was really like a matter of puzzle pieces, which is not always the case. As pop music scholars—unless it’s a pop music panel—you are oftentimes shoved into a session that has nothing to do with your topic. You’re trying to find some methodological correlations or some theoretical similarities there, and there’s nothing. But—not to toot our own horn—I think we did a great job with putting like-minded or similar-focused talks in the same sessions, but not necessarily much overlap on topic or content, if that makes sense.

I feel like there are focused sessions, but also a good amount of diversity within them. 

SWIM: Yeah, reading through them, I absolutely agree. And two things—the one thing that bums me out about the conference is I won’t be able to go to every single talk.  All of them seem so interesting to be at. The other thing is, you two are students. I am a student myself, and I would be terrified to organize a conference. So, it’s just that much more incredible that you’ve pulled this off and you have this thing that’s going ahead, and I think it’s going to be a real big hit for the genre, the audience attending, and probably all the scholarship after. 

There will be “before Emocon” and “after,” that’s what I think. And this gets into my next question. We’ve sort of talked before about emo having a credibility problem and there being a bit of a chicken-and-egg problem with the research itself. People don’t do the research because it’s not taken seriously as a genre, and because of that, there’s very little scholarship to even pursue further research. Do you think that’s been a problem with other genres in the past? Is that unique to emo, and do you think a conference—just one—can change that?

PATRICK:  I have a very short answer. I think it’s unique to emo in the fact that it has a subcultural complexion to it. Most subcultures, especially musical subcultures, academics really love to get into it. Like, one of the most famous academic studies on punk, Dick Hebdige’s Subcultures, was published a few months after the Sex Pistols broke up in 1979.

So that just shows you that most subcultures get immediate academic attention and immediate robust academic attention. They still have their own fights for credibility, but even amongst scholars who study subcultural music, I got the sense that emo wasn’t necessarily taken seriously. 

I’m trying to think of other genres that have that difficulty; a few come to mind, but not necessarily genres. Taylor Swift studies are picking up quite a bit, and I have heard significant pushback, though I would say quietly, behind closed doors. I’ve not heard anyone go to Taylor Swift panels and talk about how “this is trashy music,” but I don’t know if they’re struggling for validity, because there are a number of books coming out–both monographs and edited collections. 

VARUN: Shouts out to Paula Harper and Kate Galloway.  I think what Patrick is touching on a bit is that this is a longstanding issue. To give a very quick gloss of it, mass culture became a thing around 1900, and by even the 1920s, 1930s, what you have is the Frankfurt School saying, “this is actually a sign of cultural decay. This is all bad. This is just reproducing capitalist hegemony. Yada, yada, yada.” But then what happened in England in the 50s and 60s—what’s termed the Birmingham School with people like Stuart Hall—are saying “Well, regardless of what you think about these sorts of youth cultures and subcultures, they do reflect important things about society.” 

 A lot of those authors were saying things like, “The Beatles do have to be taken seriously.” So these are calls going up in the 60s and 70s, and it’s this sort of constant terrain because you don’t want to be writing about the Harlem Shake two years after it happened, waiting another year for your article to get published, and everyone going, “what is that?” You don’t want to be saying something about the meaning of something that’s changed pretty significantly recently. 

I just taught Drake in a class, and I can imagine the way my students would’ve responded to Drake four years ago versus the way they responded to Drake post-Kendrick Lamar beef is very different. You want to have an accurate, full picture of it, and yet at the same time, there is no time like the present, you know? 

We have a couple of these panels about emo in the archive, and how do you preserve cultural memory, and how do you preserve things like zines and whatever. So you’re always fighting this tension. The people who do it really well are the people who can speak the language of an established scholarship, convincing them why these things are going to matter, both in the moment and in the long term, as a critical reflection. I think that’s an age-old problem that has existed as long as the modern view of academia has. 

PATRICK: You bring up emo in the archive—I wonder if digitization has anything to do with preservation as well. Low-hanging fruit—punk has historically received a lot of academic attention, and so these zines are almost seen as preservations of cultural artifacts. I’m thinking of the punk archive at UCLA. But with emo, were there necessarily people with hard drives full of show videos, or grassroots interviews with scene bands? I don’t think so. 

We’re seeing now that it’s incredibly difficult to navigate the popularity of the genre, but also the local significance of it, too. And the local significance: because of digitization, either there haven’t been effective modes of categorizing it, or a lot of these things just don’t exist, or it’s on someone’s camcorder in their mom’s basement, just waiting to be plugged in and downloaded. So I think there’s a little bit of dismissal of it, but also a lot of the artifacts themselves were not necessarily physical.

VARUN: And to that point, the digital side introduces this view of temporality that can really reconfigure things.  I think there’s a very real timeline where “Never Meant” doesn’t take off on the internet around 2015, and Steve Lamos then is a professor who tries to tell his kids, “No, trust me, we were this big deal,” versus the world now, where we are so honored to have this living legend.

Which is not to dismiss American Football, but I mean the internet really grabbed a hold of this thing that was so important as not just a touchstone of what was happening in Urbana-Champaign at the turn of the century, but as a thing that really spoke to people across areas and generations,  and a thing that the internet demonstrates its power and its ability to construct that.

SWIM:  Absolutely. These keynotes that you two got for this conference are both incredible, Steve Lamos and Dan Ozzi. How did you make that happen? Were you just cold emailing and crossing your fingers? What was it like getting them on board? 

PATRICK: Hail Mary.

VARUN: Hail Mary. Having a fair amount of funding doesn’t hurt either. We hope we’ve set them up at a nice hotel and they’re leaving with a bit of pocket cash. But, also, I think—I don’t want to speak for Steve—but I saw recently a clip of a guy saying, “I was just talking with Steve and he was talking about how they had made this thing that matters to so many people, and he felt like it was his duty to sort of preserve and care for that fact.” And I imagine Dan feels similarly. Again, this is all conjecture on my end, but I hope, to some extent, they feel that this conference is, in many ways, a high point in demonstrating what caring for the genre looks like.

PATRICK:  Yeah, and to their credit, it was such an honor to receive those responses. I think Varun texted me, and he was like, “Oh my God, did you see the Gmail?” Because both of them were so immediately down and so excited. I think Steve said, “This is a great idea. I can’t wait to do it. Let’s talk details immediately.” And likewise with Dan.

That was also validation on our part as well. Some of my colleagues were like, “You’re doing a conference on emo? That’s crazy. All right, man. Good luck.” Then, to get these keynotes was a validation of the conference, but also just an incredible, incredible honor. And yeah, we hope that they view it as an honor as well, because we’re so incredibly excited to have them both.

SWIM:  Yeah, I’m super excited to see the keynotes, and it’s a great example of how a good idea sometimes takes a couple of years. I’m glad you two persevered with this thing, got the funding, and you got these awesome keynotes. 

You mentioned earlier that emo doesn't necessarily have icons the same way other genres do. I think of the Kinsellas as second wave icons, but even then I would break it up by wave. I don’t know what the layperson thinks, if they have an idea of an icon in emo. But yeah, it’s incredible that these people are on board. 

PATRICK: Yeah, they’re the closest to icons, actually. Yeah, that’s a great point. 

VARUN: Maybe, Soupy [Dan Campbell] from the Wonder Years? I feel like he’s kind of got that aura. Gerard Way, maybe. [DEFINITELY]

SWIM: Yeah, emo has a huge multiplicity of people. Which is something that—I’m not so into other genres, this is kind of my life—but I don’t get the sense that it’s the same in other spaces. There’s just a ton of people you have to know in emo, and they all know each other, and they all are inspired by each other.

VARUN:  And that’s part of the DIY thing. Like, my favorite band recorded one and a half albums, and they came to my town four times and they hung out with me. That’s not happening with Mick Jagger. If you want to idolize Mick Jagger, you’ve got to know like 70 records, and if he sees you, he’d probably spit on you. [Laughter]

PATRICK: But I think that speaks to the scene origins of the genre, too. A lot of these guys are used to just shooting the shit, bumming cigs behind a venue, and just talking it out while sweating after a show at a shitty dive bar. I think that it speaks to the origins of the community that you feel in a local scene. And when those artists get bigger, some of them don’t maintain those same origins, but many do.

They’re just regular old people. I know Real Friends used to go to my friend’s Starbucks in Illinois, and they’re just guys. They’re really cool, and most people didn’t recognize ’em, so it was like doubly fun.

SWIM:  Yeah. So our conversations, like we’re having here, there are specific questions I’m asking, but also we’re going a little off script, and just talking because it’s so much fun to talk about emo. Are these the types of things you expect to be doing at the conference in between panels? Are there people you really want to meet with and ask specific questions about your research? What are you hoping to get out of the conference, if anything specific?

PATRICK:  I’m personally looking forward to a lot of the autoethnographic presentations. Like, a scholar’s experience, that’s their framing methodology. That’s what I’m most excited about, the post-paper chats. 

SWIM: And is that something that you think will be relevant to your research and dissertation, or is it more just personally interesting?

PATRICK: I mean, no information’s bad information, but it’s a type of scholarship that I am always really taken by. I think that it takes a lot of courage to not only put yourself out there and give a conference presentation, but it’s also framed by your own experience. And a lot of these topics you have to have a great deal of sensitivity to deal with, too. So, it almost speaks to the emo-ness maybe of the methodology. It’s mostly just of interest, and shows what Varun was talking about, the diversity of impact, too.

VARUN: Yeah, and like for me personally, I think these hangs are so important. In the same way that in order to build a scene, you really do have to work, making community a thing is work. Academia can sometimes be a little hostile to community building. On one hand, because everyone’s fighting for a really small slice of a really small pie. On the other hand, it’s like, “I need to go up into my room, and I need to read 300 books, and I need to do that to write two sentences. Please don’t bother me.”

We all live across the country, and there are only so many people really committed to the academic life. To whatever degree being an emo scholar means doing justice to emo as a concept, that means taking those ethoses of DIY and community building and bringing them to the academy as much as we can. So much of this was about, like, who are the people who are actually writing and thinking about this? And what are the things that they care about? And how can we position them so we know each other’s work and support it?

So, Janessa Williams, Francesca Sobande, Isabel Felix Gonzales, Steve [Lamos] himself, and I have all published essays about emo or pop-punk. Patrick is writing a dissertation. Our friend Peter wrote a dissertation on emo, and at least three or four other people coming to the conference are currently writing dissertations about emo, and I didn’t know about these publications. I didn’t really know about these dissertations [before], and how am I supposed to show up for these people if I don’t even know that they exist? 

That’s really the thing that I want to come out of this, is that feeling like we’ve got each other’s backs and we can really support each other growing to make this a viable academic study.  So no one’s advisor says, “I don’t know. Should you write an emo dissertation? What’s that going to do for you?”

SWIM:  Yeah, building a network is 100% necessary to real scholarship. Maybe 200 years ago you could have been the first person to think about something and write it down, but nowadays, with how connected the entire world is, if you have an idea, someone else has already had it, and they might have even already written about it. You shouldn’t view that as meaning your idea and your thoughts about it aren’t worthwhile; you need to view that as a source that you can use to inform and interrogate whatever it is you’re trying to get out on paper.

And yeah, 100% agree: a huge thing that should happen at this conference is that people should all exchange information, try to support each other, and read each other’s stuff. Just since learning about this conference, I’ve been more engaged, trying to read rigorous research, buying books, and going through them with a more serious, formal approach to the genre. As opposed to just scrolling through Spotify playlists and thinking, “Oh, this person doesn’t actually know what Midwest emo is.” [Laughter]

That’s really informal. I think that’s still important, but it’s also really important to read entire books and cite them.

VARUN: Yeah. Shout out to Judith Fathallah, Emo: How Fans Defined a Subculture… A subculture, or a genre? 

PATRICK: [pulls out a copy of the book and holds it up to the screen] “Emo: How Fans Defined a Subculture.”

SWIM: To this point of community and accessibility, whose idea was the livestream? I’ve been to livestreamed conferences, but I thought that was kind of normal for really big international events. Is that the standard in music things? Was that something you guys wanted to do specifically for this?

PATRICK: Varun, I think that was your initial idea.

VARUN:  Yeah, part of it is, I think we’re only dipping our toes into the livestream water because Zoom introduces infinite complexities. But I’m pretty committed to being a public intellectual. I think scholarship should be available and open to as many people who want to engage with it as possible.

And at WashU, these rooms are already set up. Setting up the Zoom call requires clicking a couple of links, hitting a few buttons, and then giving people some mics. If that’s all it takes and someone wants to spend their Saturday afternoon watching these talks, I certainly don’t want to keep them from that. In fact, I want them to come here because I think the things we are saying about emo as a collective matter to people’s lives and help elucidate the individual’s relationship to society at large.

If we can make that happen with a little bit of work, I think that’s our responsibility to do it. 

PATRICK: Exactly. What Varun said—especially dealing with a genre that has such popular significance—it really is. And Varun’s position, I’m sure you know, Braden, is not a widely taken position in the academy. I still run into faculty who say, “Well, the whole point of scholarship is so it’s inaccessible.” And they love the idea of the—I don’t want to use the word echo chamber, but for lack of a better word—echo chamber. When Varun posted the conference to r/emo, that was like the epitome of reaching out to the broader fan base beyond scholarship. 

We hope to get some of those folks in the Zoom rooms. And also, it’s not that Dan Ozzi is just a really famous author; it’s also a public event, the final keynote. We should probably make a plug about that at some point.

VARUN:  Dan Ozzi will not be livestreamed, though, because that was one where it’s like at a venue, and so that just introduces other problems… But Steve [Lamos] is, you know, how many people love American Football? And we’re getting people in from the community. If you’re in the St. Louis metro area or like surrounding it, and you wanna come down, parking’s free on the weekend. 

SWIM:  I super appreciate that you two both feel so strongly about the responsibility to open these academic barriers. I come from a different side of this. On the science/STEM side of things, as soon as you submit to a journal—if you do an analysis, you make a new detector or whatever—and you submit that to a journal, what’s common in science is also to submit that to a site called arXiv. Where the pre-print you submitted to the journal, that exact same paper, is just completely free and accessible on the internet to the public, and literally anyone can go on arXiv and send you comments. 

Of course, people aren’t obligated to respond, but if it’s someone from a neighboring collaboration, it’s a great way to get additional feedback and to break down these echo chambers, and to really say in a public way, “We’re doing this scholarship openly. We invite everyone to take a look at this.” That way, there isn’t even the possible perception that it’s happening behind closed doors, because it’s not. It’s so public-facing, and that’s how it is in a lot of science, and I appreciate that you guys are doing the legwork to make it a similar thing in this realm of scholarship.

PATRICK:  The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame does that as well. They invite academics to speak at public talks. There are some folks that knock it out of the park and others that, you know, maybe get a little too nitty-gritty. But that’s something I’ve always been incredibly moved by, that public-facing work, especially with popular music.

VARUN: And part of that is humanities has a bit more of—you’ve got to have the secret code to get access to it. But, it’s a thing that we should [do], because when we speak in this time of a decaying trust in academia and science and medicine and things that I personally don’t think are good for society, even if some of those critiques may have a certain kernel of truth to them. I think the solution is really just to say, “Wait, we’re a bunch of academic nerds. Trust me, we don’t have anything up our sleeves. I would kind of just like a publication, please.”

PATRICK: Exactly. Exactly. And especially when the academy has just come under incredible scrutiny from both the public and from elected officials. And that’s like what Varun said. Although there might be a kernel of truth to it, what we shouldn’t do is retreat back into the ivory tower. You know what I’m saying? To show a sense of earnestness with our work.  Not that I think that inspired the livestream, but it speaks to a broader conversation. 

SWIM:  Yeah, no, any way to make scholarship publicly available, and maybe an emphasis on communication as well. Because sometimes people use words that are jargon for whatever topic, but a really good educator and a really good communicator takes the time to say, “This is jargon. This is something I’m going to be using a lot, so I’m going to explain it this way.” And that doesn’t just make the scholarship better, it makes people better. It makes conversations better, it makes it more fun to be friends with these people. And it helps you go further, not just in the field but honestly in life, just to be a better communicator. So, yeah, I’m really glad the livestream is happening. 

We kind of mentioned it, but at the end of the conference, there’s actually  a post-conference show, which is amazing. It’s great for an emo conference to have some emo bands playing at the end. Would either of you be able to talk about the set list? Is that something you’d want to reveal at this time? And, if it’s possible, how do I get “Catalina Fight Song” added to the set list? 

VARUN: Well, we do “Catalina,” and then we go straight into “Constant Headache.”

SWIM: That’s beautiful.

VARUN: For those who don’t know, Patrick’s group, Girl Gordon, will be playing; they’ll be doing about 40 minutes of originals. Then my group, the “Silly Little Emo Band,” which does emo and pop-punk covers, will close out the night, and we will be sucking titty by the ocean. 

Girl Gordon

At MOTR Cincinnati.

Silly Little Emo Band

(AKA SLEB)

SWIM: Nice. Did you two have any closing thoughts you wanted on the record before we conclude? We’ve covered a lot of ground. We’ve been talking for about an hour, so no worries if not.

PATRICK: I’m trying to think. We did cover a lot of ground.  I’m not coming up with anything. Varun?

VARUN: Reiterating, go to www.emocon2026.com if you would like to sign up to attend either virtually or in person. If you follow us @emocon2026 on Instagram, we’re there. And we’re really thankful for this opportunity from Swim to come here and talk about it. We’re really grateful that this conference is happening. There’s just been overwhelming support from the emo community, to whatever extent we are known in the emo community, and that’s something that we really appreciate and honor, and we don’t take lightly. 

PATRICK: Exactly. Yeah. 

SWIM: Awesome. Well, yeah, thank you both so much for this opportunity to talk and put some things down on the record. And also for putting this whole thing together. I think it’s gonna be a smash hit, and I’m really looking forward to the impending explosion of emo scholarship. 

VARUN: Trust me, those damn walls are breaking soon.

~

For more information about Emocon, you can look up abstracts and panel times at the official site. If you liked that, you should also check out this previous interview Varun did on Dan Dipiero’s podcast Cry Baby, where he talks about his forthcoming article dissecting Hot Mulligan’s “BKYRD” through the lens of neoliberal politics.


Braden Allmond is a particle physicist and emo music enthusiast. He anticipates graduating from KSU in August with his PhD in experimental high energy physics. When he isn’t writing his thesis, he’s data-scraping articles and books about emo music, making tables and graphs to interrogate and understand the genre.

Radicalizing Self-Love: An Interview with JER 

Bad Time Records

Over the last several years, Jeremy “Jer” Hunter has become a prolific fixture in the New Tone ska movement. They have been a viral sensation countless times, racking up nearly 40 million views across YouTube and TikTok for crafting ska covers of popular songs under the moniker Skatune Network. A true multi-hyphenate and one-person band, in the average Skatune video, you can see Jer playing trombone, trumpet, guitar, bass, sax, and singing – to list a handful of their proficiencies. 

Jer has wielded these talents on numerous records and on stage for acts such as Jeff Rosenstock, Fishbone, We Are The Union, The Bruce Lee Band, and many other notable names in the ska and punk scenes. In recent years, Jer has begun putting out their own original music as JER – releasing their first LP, BOTHERED/UNBOTHERED, in May of 2022 and their sophomore album, Death of the Heart, in August of 2025. 

Jer capped off the end of last year not only with the release of their new album, but with plenty of touring to keep their hands full. This recent bout of time on the road included a jaunt to Japan, as well as stops at FEST in Jer’s home state of Florida, No Earbuds Fest in Southern California, and MAGfest up in Maryland earlier this year. Now that they’re back from trotting the globe, I had the pleasure of sitting down with Jer to chat about these enthralling live shows before thoroughly delving into the creation, inspirations, and broader meaning behind their thought-provoking and politically-charged new album, Death of the Heart.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.


SWIM: How has touring, MAGFest, FEST, and coming back from all that been?

JER: It's been really good, the back half of 2025 was very eventful. We went to Japan again, and this was the first time for the JER band. Those shows gave me a new reason to play music live. The love and the energy was so revitalizing. Then FEST had the same energy. So many people that I love from across the music industry, the music world, all the music scenes, typically they're at FEST.

So, to feel that love again, it fueled me. We ended our year in SoCal at No Earbuds Fest, and SoCal showed up. It was just banger, after banger, after banger. All the touring has been great, but that last run of shows in particular, the energy was through the roof.

Earlier this year, there was MAGFest with Rebecca Sugar. Steven Universe is such an important show to me – especially the music. I probably wouldn't be doing Skatune Network if it weren't for Steven Universe. What Aivi and Surasshu were doing on that show inspired me to open Logic and start making music, so that full-circle moment was very cathartic.

SWIM: Crazy full circle. My friends Sierra and Carina went to MAGFest too, and they were sending me videos of the Rebecca Sugar show, and I was like, “Oh, there's Jer in the back on the Trombone!”

JER: I didn't really talk about it a lot, because I got doxxed around the same week that they announced that. Far-right Twitter was having a field day. I think if I announced that I'm performing with the creator of the Gay Space Rocks show as far-right Twitter was dogpiling on me, that might just add fuel to their fire. I kind of just didn't post about it, and then I went on tour and realized I'd never posted about it, so that was a surprise to a lot of people. 

SWIM: ‘Joke’s on you. I'm literally never home!’ [Laughs]

JER: Yeah, right. Good luck showing up at my door, no one’s here!

SWIM: My friend Avery was in a couple bands that were at No Earbuds Fest, and that seemed really cool. 

Something I also never thought about until the last several years was how big ska is in Japan and how many ska bands there are, like ORESKABAND. It's so cool that it's such a big pocket in Japanese music culture. 

JER: Yeah. I've gone twice now: once in October 2024 with the Bruce Lee Band, and then this past October again with the JER band. Japan feels like it is almost 20 years behind when it comes to pop culture. The best way I can describe it is how there's a bunch of people who are nostalgic for the 80s, but they were literally born in the 90s, so they have this nostalgia for the 80s through seeing 80s media. I feel like Japan's the same way: they're seeing ska, punk, and alternative through the media's gaze, and now they're recreating it years later. 

They consume so much American culture, and they might not understand all of the reasons why that American culture happened, but they're still recreating it in their own way. On top of that, their culture just values music and art way more; it's more accessible there. It's the perfect combination of those factors that have allowed Japanese ska to be so big, but also alternative music in general.

SWIM: Absolutely. That's how I've always felt about K-pop, too, where it's a mirror reflection that keeps going back and forth between Korea and America. If you look at J-pop, Hikaru Utada’s career, their 2000s stuff sounds like the 90s. It's just a cool pattern.

Something I’ve always admired about you is how prolific you are and how much stamina you have to put out content, be in so many different bands, and do the marching band. Where do you feel that initiative to do all of those things comes from?

JER: Part of it is a love for the craft. It's that mantra that's capitalist propaganda of "Find a job you love, and you'll never work another day in your life,” when the reality is, it is work. I love music, and I'm more inspired to create a ska cover, play music, or teach marching band than I ever was to flip bacon at Waffle House. It's easier for me to get out of bed knowing I can make music than it is to make meat as someone who's vegan. [Laughs]

Photo by Rae Mystic

It's a very volatile and uncertain profession. I'm grateful people back me up and support me with Patreon and buying my music and merch. That is the only reason I'm able to do this. Even if I'm not feeling motivated, it helps knowing that people love it when I share a cover, or seeing the comments from people really hyped on it. Whether it's people telling me at shows or people showing up to concerts, anything like that, those are the things that make me want to keep creating. 

Sometimes there are days when I'm not really feeling it. It might take me a little longer to get it done, but there's also the time constraint: I have a month before I go on tour, and I need to get X, Y, and Z done. Sometimes the pressure of that just forces me to get things done. There always comes a point in every cover, even if it feels like I’m dragging my feet, where I have to get this done. By the time I'm halfway through the process, I start getting hyped on it. ‘Oh, this sounds really cool, and I know people are going to really dig this!’

The other work that I do are kind of my anchors. Every summer I'm doing band camp, every fall I'm doing marching band competitions, and every October is FEST. Those things ground my life into some sort of reality where, during all the time in between, I could probably make three months’ worth of covers, and then I'm not making covers when I'm on the road. It’s a lifestyle where you have to be adaptable. I once saw someone say that they gave up their 9-to-5 to work 24/7, and damn, that's so true. 

The Undertale cover record I did was purely out of passion, but then [Toby Fox] used it for a stream. I did not make money on that at all. Even after selling records, I only broke even because I paid the artists to record on it and the people who made the art. I wasn't expecting them to compensate me for making that cover record. I really didn't make money off of it, and then two years later, that money came back.

There are some months where I worked all day, every day, for months at a time, and I made very little money. Then there are other months where I can go on tour, and that work I put in is still sustained. If I'm not posting, the Patreon does go down gradually. If I'm posting, it goes up gradually. So, there still is a consistency that needs to be there. There's a give-and-take with it. 

SWIM: Exactly. One of the things I think that you’re known for in the music industry and in general is how outspoken you are about social media and the algorithm. Being a content creator and a musician while under the constantly changing social media culture we're in right now, what is your general approach to tackling that uncertainty?

JER: My whole philosophy lately for myself and what I try to internalize is moving back to logging off, unplugging, the same way that there are people who are ditching Spotify and streaming altogether. People are starting to buy CD players again and build up their physical collection. I just bought a DVD player, because I went to watch Steven Universe, only to find out it's not on HBO Max, it's on Disney+, which is ridiculous. I just want to watch my show and don't want to give Disney any money. I just bought the DVD boxset, and now this can never be taken away from me, unless I lose it or something. It's something I've been meaning to do, but how do I translate that to music?

I've been building an email list since last year, basically harassing anyone who joins my TikTok live streams to sign up. We announced this tour, and ticket sales have been better than any tour we've done so far. Some people say they don't want to join the email list because they get so many emails. I have multiple email accounts, so when I'm looking for this information, I'm not digging through spam. I'm encouraging people to really lean into that; being intentional about the content that they're taking in, especially in an era of AI slop on the rise.

Social media feeds are so overwhelming, and I don't blame people who might see me, but then see like 500 more posts that day. I can't even remember the last three posts I saw on social media. I have to treat everyone like that. Someone might've seen my tour announcement, someone might've seen my new record, someone might've seen my last cover, but they probably saw a million posts after that and forgot about it. You don't forget going out to a show, unless you're blackout drunk, then you forget. [Laughs]

If you're going out to a show and you're actively engaging, you're not going to forget that. If you go up to the merch table and meet the artist, you're not going to forget that. An email with very specific information that you'll only see on that email list. So for me, it’s finding the quality people within the quantity; find the people who want to be there and reach out to them. The people who see all my posts, who constantly see me repeating the same things – for every one person like that, there's a thousand people who may have followed me for years, and they've never heard that I make my own music, or that I'm on tour, or that I have a new cover. I've been touring, and it's not even your fault; you just haven't seen it because I've been pushed out of the algorithm, not because the algorithm is evil, but because there's an oversaturation of content. On top of the algorithm being evil. [Laughs]

SWIM: Absolutely. I'm stoked to hear that you're getting so much love for the Seattle date of the Bad Time tour. I'm glad people are seeing that and buying tickets because, like you've said in your videos, we are the farthest away from you right now. So that means people are talking about it, sharing it, and actually seeing that information.

JER: No, Seattle's been great. Honestly, most of the more remote places, like Denver, have been great. The Northwest is not used to bands making it through as much as Chicago, New York, or Philly. Those cities are also doing great, but Seattle, by far, is the best one. Also, a lot of my videos do well there. When I checked the top cities, Seattle has always been one of those. We played Seattle on the Fishbone tour, and that was by far the best show of the tour for us. I'm really thankful for that.

SWIM: You mentioned AI when you were talking about the algorithm, and I was curious, as an artist who is so vocally anti-AI, what's getting you through this AI slop era we’re in? 

JER: Yeah, the whole AI thing is really annoying in general. Even most of the time, it's just slop in every sense of the word. It looks bad, it sounds bad, but it's gotten to the point where it's indistinguishable. It's still slop, it's just slop that looks better. The point of it being slop isn't that it looks bad; it’s that no effort went into creating it. What makes art cool is that somebody couldn't express something that they were feeling, so they developed the skill to express that thing. With AI, somebody felt something, but instead of developing any sort of skill, they just made a computer do it.

It's getting to the point where more people reject AI than not, but these algorithms are just shoving it down our throats whether we want it or not. Bandcamp announced that they're banning AI, and I haven't seen a single person say that's a bad thing. Moves like that are starting to show that there is a market for it. I see a future where you might start seeing indie artists selling DVDs. I've seen some Kickstarters where they offer that as a perk, but you might see more of a push. I already see it on TikTok, where artists are really pushing CDs and CD players. Vinyl is coming back for all the people who didn't know that it never went away. Bands have been selling records forever, but CDs are also getting a huge push right now. I think people will move more towards physical media and become more intentional about what they consume. 

If every TikTok or Instagram Reel or YouTube short is a minute, you can at most watch 60 of them an hour, and that's assuming you dedicate a full hour to doing that. So, how much content is going to get on there to the point where you can't even watch stuff? You can just get offline and go directly towards who you follow to find out about stuff. I think that's where the future is moving. I can already see that happening with people deleting or getting off of Instagram and signing up for email lists.

SWIM: When I deactivated Twitter, I had that nostalgia of “This is where I met so many of my music friends and this has offered me so many opportunities,” but now it's this soulless reflection of something I used to like, and it's not even serving me anymore. So that made it easier for me to push it away. The same thing is happening on Instagram right now. The same thing's happening on TikTok. 

pulses. is a band I always bring up, but they just released a dual-CD/DVD for their 10th-anniversary show from last year. When I was talking to Kevin about that last year, he said, “You know, I don't know if we're going to be able to do it. It's hard, and I'm figuring it out all by myself, and I don't know if we're going to make money off of it, but we're going to put it out there for people.” People need to be taking that risk and offering that, so people have shit to put on their shelves and in their collections. 

JER: I agree, 100%.

SWIM: Death of the Heart has been out for months now. How's the reception been?

JER: It's been great! Death of the Heart came out in August of 2025, and especially in the back half of the year, I feel like every week there were banger records coming out. Pool Kids dropped their record the same day as Death of the Heart. Kerosene Heights dropped their record that day as well. We went on tour with The Bouncing Souls over to Japan and back to FEST. By the time we got back to FEST, people were singing the new songs more. Even going to California in December, people knew the new songs more than the older ones. The general consensus is that people have really latched onto Death of the Heart a lot quicker, which is really cool. 

It wasn't a record that took over the world, but I think it's really dope that, within the following, people are really loving it. Bands often put out a second record and people say they like the first one better, but I'm finding a lot of fans saying it's been a step up. People who are finding me through Death of the Heart are now finding BOTHERED / UNBOTHERED retroactively. Death of the Heart has been, without a doubt, more successful on social media. Every time I post a video that does well on Instagram or TikTok, I gain a lot of followers, but I also attract a lot of other cool people. Topaz Jones is a rapper I found a couple years ago, and he followed my page, which is cool. I'm noticing a lot of rappers, hip-hop artists, R&B singers, and jazz artists are finding it. I think it's a testament to how good music is good music. People are really resonating with that.

It's also been 100% DIY; I'm not really getting a publication push from the music industry. I'm not getting features on huge podcasts or reviews. It's literally word of mouth. The fact that the social media push and the word of mouth have gone this far has been really cool. There's so much room to grow with the record. People might come out to the Bad Time tour, and they might not have listened to the record yet, but then they're going to see the band absolutely tear it up, because the JER band rips. I'm excited for people to hear these new songs and see the band’s energy.

SWIM: That's awesome. I think all DIY and smaller artists are feeling that inundation of music. If you're someone who tries to follow music as much as possible, the weekly deluge of new albums, EPs, and singles can be disheartening if your mindset is to be on top of everything as it's released. Something I try to tell artists when they're feeling discouraged is that their music isn't going anywhere. Just because a week has passed since it was released, people go back and find records literally all the time. Don’t be so focused on, “I have this finite amount of time to release my music and talk about it. Otherwise, it'll never be heard.”

JER: Yeah, the music industry is just like that. “You need a new record in two years.” I put out the record six months ago. I'm supposed to be 25% through this whole era before I put out the next record. I don't think a record's coming in the next year and a half, but there's nothing wrong with that. 

There's this one bit from Family Guy: it's some dude in jail watching TV, and he’s like, “If I haven't seen it, it's new to me.” I'm pretty sure you know exactly what scene I'm talking about. [Laughs]

SWIM: Yeah. That's so funny, I have that Family Guy vocal stim, I could recite the inflection verbatim. [Laughs]

JER: But it’s so true! I see videos that went viral on Tumblr and Facebook 15 years ago going viral on Instagram now. That song “Chinese New Year” is another great example. That band, SALES, put out a five-song EP, they toured a little bit, they weren't going anywhere, they broke up. Five years later, Chinese New Year went viral on TikTok, they went up to 3 million monthly listeners on Spotify, and then that band literally came back. They weren't on TikTok posting, that was just organic.

Someone with 10 million subscribers on YouTube could find and talk about Death of the Heart, and then as a creator and as an artist, it's my job to always be ready. That's what I've learned after 10 years of doing Skatune Network. I could wake up tomorrow with an influx of followers, but are they seeing what I want them to see? Are they seeing my tour dates? My new music? Is it easy for them to find? You never know what the future's going to be. 

SWIM: What are some of the musical or non-musical media influences that went into Death of the Heart

JER: Normally, I always have these references sitting around, but Death of the Heart ended up not having any. That's just naturally what happened. When I first started doing JER, “R/Edgelord” uses a sample from Arthur with Buster being like, “You really think someone would do that? Just go on the internet and tell lies?" If you didn't grow up on Arthur, that's something that wouldn't necessarily be on your zeitgeist. “Say Gay or Say Goodnight” sampled the series finale of The Owl House. Most people my age weren't watching that show unless you were really into animation. Going into Death of the Heart, that record was formed at a time when I was finding a lot more real-life influences. At the end of “What Will You Do?” there is a sample from a two-hour news report about the MOVE bombing, with the citizens of that neighborhood airing their grievances about how the police handled that whole situation.

While writing this record, I was doing a lot of reading, learning, growing, and expanding. There’s that Jamie Baldwin quote where the record's name comes from. There are more nuanced, subtle influences. I believe it’s “Cult of the Lonely” talking about love being a contraband. That's an Assata Shakur quote. “Claim Yr True Feelings, Wounded Child” is actually a paraphrased Bell Hooks quote, talking about love and the action of love being a verb and not a noun. There are six pillars that she talks about, like respect, communication, care, and nurture. “The death of the heart” is the absence of love, and with things like racism and sexism, bigotry, and transphobia, you cannot be a loving person and hold those in your heart, because you're doing the active opposite of love. The action of love, of caring and respecting and communicating with people.

The flip side of “the death of the heart” is not allowing yourself to grow. That's where the record ends. You can't say you're about growth and care if you're not allowing yourself or others around you the space to learn, grow, and care. That's what revolution is. That's what being radical is. It's recognizing that we have been raised by a system of harm and doing the work to unlearn that harm and repair it with love, care, accountability, and healing. If you're not willing to allow that to happen, then that is “the death of the heart.” 

I took a sample from The Truman Show, which I think is the only actual media reference. The whole movie is about how Truman is in a TV show, and everyone knows about it except him. He's having a nervous breakdown, because he's been made into a product against his consent. He's trying to figure out what's going on, and people know, but they don't care because they just want to be famous and want money. His wife in the show is like, ‘You seem stressed! Product placement!’

SWIM: That was one of my favorite memes for a while. The world is burning around you, but all of these content creators are putting up the Mococoa drink, and he’s like, “What are you talking about? Who are you talking to?”

JER: I thought it'd be cool to splice that up over a beat, because the whole front half of the record is, “The world is burning and this person is just promoting a product and acting like nothing's wrong and there very clearly is something wrong.” I first got the idea when I was watching that movie again, I heard the “Do something!” and I needed that to be how that sample ends. In the movie, she's calling out for the film crew to do something to save her. In reality, we collectively need to do something. 

SWIM: BOTHERED / UNBOTHERED came out square in the middle of the Biden presidency. We shift into this complacency mode when there's a liberal president, but when we have a sitting dictator president, people are angrier. Do you feel like Death of the Heart is a heavier record, especially with the Omnigone feature and the themes? Where is that coming from?

JER: It definitely is a much heavier record, both in its tone and the actual music itself. Hardcore and heavy music has always been an influence of mine; I just wasn't really writing in that style quite yet with BOTHERED / UNBOTHERED. That record was also me figuring out my own sound. One of the first tracks I demoed on Death of the Heart was “What Will You Do?” and I was like, “There's no way this could be a JER song, it's way too heavy.” I was listening to a bunch of Gouge Away, Turnstile, and Soul Glo. As the record started coming together, it felt almost like a disservice to leave it out. At a certain point, I was like, “I'm Jer, so if I write it, it's the JER sound.” It's my music.

I remember when Biden won, I made a post saying, “If we treat this like a victory and celebrate, we're going to be saying good morning to President Trump or President DeSantis in 2025.” Especially being a Floridian, watching Florida go through what we've gone through, everything that's happening everywhere has been happening to Black America for so long.

People are already making the parallels now. The ICE raids, they're slave patrols. They're doing what slave catchers were doing. Black people have been saying this. That's where “What Will You Do?" came from, speaking of that song and where the record starts getting heavier. That song was inspired in October of 2023, when I was posting a lot about Palestine, and somebody was like, “You know, you're really worried about the Palestinian struggle, but why aren't you posting like this about the Black struggle? Shouldn't you be focusing on the people in your own backyard who are your people instead of this other entity?” My response is: that is the Black struggle. That person asked me, “What are you going to do when they do what they're doing to Palestine in America? You're so focused on Palestine, but you're not worrying about America.” I said, “Dude, do you not realize when I see Palestine being bombed, I see the MOVE bombing. When I see ICE detaining people and throwing them in prisons and tearing families apart, I see the slave patrols who tore families apart and auctioned children off to be sold into slavery. When you see the prison industrial complex, you see chattel slavery. Anything that is happening to any marginalized group of people, it happened to Black people first. That's something that became a core tenet of Death of the Heart.

Even amongst progressive people, if it happened to a marginalized non-Black person, it's being spun as if it's never happened to Black people. When Black people have talked about this, they're reprimanded for their anger. People who are supposed to be in our scene and on our side, progressives, will say that I'm aggressive for being angry at systemic injustices, but then, when those same systemic injustices happen to other groups of people, they speak out with that same anger. The non-Black people who do that are suddenly rewarded for their bravery and their courage. This is why I wanted to write a record that represents not only my queer and Black identity, but also the queer and Black plight. They have to be interconnected, and anti-Blackness is the root of it all. That's where the theme of the record started shifting towards how we can't have an honest conversation about the injustices and pain and the suffering and everything about the system that we're in if we're not going to talk about the fact that it is rooted in anti-Blackness. 

The first couple of songs on the record talk about the problem being there, but not being able to identify it. The assumption of “Couldn't Be Me,” where that song quite literally was written about these things. There are people who are asking, “How is ICE doing this now?” What do you mean now? It's always been fuck ICE, it's just that it’s only affecting you now. These things have always affected Black people. The whole chorus, “Did you lose your safety?” Black people never had safety in this country. “Guaranteed by the roots of the family tree.” Your family tree, being a white person, allowed you to feel safe up until the point where fascism got too far. “Based on the fruits of the labor of Ebony bodies.” Black people built this country. The decaying fruits of our labor are what created the fertile soil for those white family trees to grow to the point where they are. Now fascism has risen to the point where it's affecting everybody. Now you have white people getting shot by officers. Now you have a bunch of white people who are scared. We've been trying to tell y'all this entire time. The writing's been on the wall. That's the angle that I chose with this record. I think for a lot of people it resonates, because it gets to the root of it.

Lyric art for “couldn’t be me” By JER

I'm not impressed when a band says, “Capitalism is bad.” Tell me why it's bad. There are bands who will say, “Fuck ICE” on stage, but then that's where it ends. You're not giving a solution; you're just saying a thing that's already stating the obvious. I knew with this record, I didn't just want to say “Conservatives are bad,” I wanted to explain why it's part of upholding a system that is racist and transphobic and how that harms people.

Then there's the back half of the record, the part about restorative justice and accountability. Understanding that we're all victims of this system that we live in. “Claim Yr True Feelings, Wounded Child" is a great example. I often get misgendered a lot and don't get included when talking about queer people in ska, because people have a very specific idea of what it means to be queer and non-binary. That song in particular is about reckoning with the fact that I identify as non-binary and I'm a queer person, but that doesn't change the fact that I was raised in this society as a man, through toxic masculinity. That whole song is about how men are taught not to feel their feelings. This heavily affects Black men. This is a very Black song, and it's also a very queer song. The intersection of those things is so important, and that song is not seen as either of those things for the same reasons. Men are taught to shove their feelings down, and that is what causes a lot of harm to be perpetuated. You are taught not to process your feelings. You are reprimanded for processing your feelings, and then you repeat the system of harm. Recognizing that and learning to feel again and knowing it's important to feel, but also to recognize that I could identify as non-binary or queer, but that doesn't mean that the masculinity that has been instilled in me is gone.

In the same way, if somebody is raised in a conservative household, they're probably going to have some racist microaggressions, whether they realize it or not. It's not bad that you do it; it's that you recognize it so you can learn not to do it. That goes for everything. That song, again, was inspired by Bell Hooks, somebody who truly believes in the abolition of prisons. She said, “You can't abolish prisons if you're going to treat everybody like cops and punish people for making mistakes and never giving them that room to grow. Assuming that everyone always has malicious intentions and assuming that people can't make mistakes.” That's the whole point of that song and Death of the Heart in general. 

I wanted “Death of the Heart” and “Claim Yr True Feelings, Wounded Child” to be the songs next to each other. “Death of the Heart” being the title track where I'm screaming, the time signature is asymmetrical, getting really heavy in the record. It ends with this big moment, and then it goes into the lightest and purest and most vulnerable moment of the record, musically speaking. Thematically, that's the moment of the record where there's recognition of the pain and, instead of ignoring that pain, you're embracing it. You're learning to feel those feelings and how to move forward with that.

The record getting heavier with each song was very intentional. Starting in the typical JER sound of ska punk, but then growing into “Capitalism Breeds Devastation,” which gets darker. Then “What Will You Do?” gets heavier, and then “Cult of the Lonely” gets heavier, then “Death of the Heart.” Then you get to this moment of “Claim Yr True Feelings, Wounded Child,” which is the first moment of relief, musically. That lack of tension leads through the rest of the record, which has a much more hopeful sound. The music, to me as a composer, is so important too. Where you start getting a lot more of those denser chords, like seven chords, nine chords, with the song “Grow Through What We Go Through.”

To me, life isn't black and white. It's not major – happy, minor – sad. You could have a major seven chord, which has the qualities of minor and major, because life and everything that we go through is a lot denser than just happy or sad, good or bad. Whether it is the Republican next door who might be flying a Trump flag or the other queer person in your scene.

I have found, especially in the last couple of years, that I have an easier time conversing with middle-of-the-road conservatives and talking to them as people and we can find some middle ground. I realized if you don't use the scary buzzwords like “communism” and “socialism,” you can meet in the middle better than some progressive people. “The death of the heart” is demonizing these people for the way they think, but you're not learning about why they think that way. That was the entire arc of the record. 

SWIM: Absolutely. That is what’s so lasting and refreshing about your music, and especially Death of the Heart. Not only are people under the impression that ska went somewhere, but that the last place it was was third-wave ska with the mozzarella stick memes and ska punk and Bosstones and Less Than Jake. Both thematically and musically, that version of ska didn't have those heavier roots, wasn't talking about workers' rights and race relations, or any of those core elements of ska, and the music got diluted and pigeonholed. 

Even right now, there are a lot of ska bands in the scene that just want to sound like Less Than Jake, and that's the biggest impression they want to leave. Something so great about Death of the Heart is how it starts somewhere familiar, and people can latch onto that – “This is JER” – and then as they're listening to it, you're pulling apart the layers thematically. Getting people into different genres and exploring new types of music and ska can feel different and look different and sound different and still be ska.

JER: Yeah, there was a period on the record where I was trying to hone it in and have a consistent sound. I wrote “Claim Yr True Feelings, Wounded Child” in the American Football tuning, like Midwest emo. I wrote “What Will You Do?” like a heavy-ass song and these songs that just kept not fitting. “Log Off” is like an R&B track. At a certain point, it's a disservice to me as an artist to try to limit my sound. In a sense, one of the most punk rock things that you can do is stand on your shit, regardless of whether people are expecting you to sound or look a certain way.

Photo by Rae Mystic

One of the most fun things we've been doing at our shows is we get four or five songs into the setlist, hit them with “What Will You Do?”, and watching the whiplash in the audience. Especially people at No Earbuds Fest, where many of them have not seen a ska band before, and they have this preconceived idea of what a ska band is going to be. Then I start screaming and there's breakdowns and shit. All of the bartenders just stopped and put their stuff down and looked up at once. Then I see them engaged through the rest of the set. A genre of music that you didn't think you were going to like, by the end of the set, they're so stoked on it. That's been the theme of the JER band. We finished these sets, and the workers at the venues are always so hyped on it. The security guy is running over, trying to buy some merch real quick. I don't know if other bands experience this, but at every show we play, there are four or five people on staff at the venue who buy merch from us. People who work at venues probably buy merch all the time, but they're really invested, and I think that's the power of good music.

There wasn't a Less Than Jake before Less Than Jake. They heard Operation Ivy, and they heard a ska punk band that might've been active before that, but they also heard The Descendants and those types of bands, and they just started playing the music they liked together, and that's why it was so special. There was no Op Ivy before Op Ivy. Tim Armstrong saw Dance Craze and was like, “I want to do that, but I also play hardcore punk,” and that's how Op Ivy was formed. There was no Two-tone ska before The Specials. They saw what their peers were listening to, like Studio One Jamaican ska, and they wanted to do that. Then they mixed that with their influences. That's how great music has always happened. They weren't focused on creating the new sound. That's less of a ska problem, even though it is a big problem in modern ska. It’s more that capitalism has made genres into identities.

In the 90s, 80s, 70s, and 60s, they were just playing music that they loved, and that's what created something special. Then, in the 2000s, you have these industries that are selling emo as an aesthetic. If you can hone in on an aesthetic, you can go to Hot Topic and get all your emo shit, you can go to Warped Tour, you can get your band tees, and you just created an archetype of person that is profitable. Whereas ska never was particularly profitable, which is why it fell off in the industry. Now people have to be this archetype and wear the fedora and the checkerboard everything, but I'm dressing like I'm in a '90s hip-hop music video, and I love to pull influences from Gouge Away, A Tribe Called Quest, and The Specials all in one song, because that's who I am. That's exactly what all the great, legendary bands have done, and it's what has created success. They focused on writing a good song. They didn't focus on, “How can I sound like a ska band, a punk band, a metal band?” I think focusing on just being good at your instrument and writing a good song is all you need to do and the rest will flow.

Photo by Rae Mystic

SWIM: Super well put. That's always how I feel about Blink. There was no Blink sound before them. Current, contemporary pop-punk is so fucking boring because all they're trying to do is sound like Blink. Blink’s biggest influence was the fucking Cure. They created their own thing that was then copied and done to death.

Earlier, you mentioned having less time for Skatune Network and that JER is your main focus now. How has it been for you, shifting gears like that? 

JER: It's been all over the place, honestly. It depends on who you're asking. It's really funny that my biggest focus for Death of the Heart was to create branding and an identifiable look for the record. I created a whole aesthetic chart, because Skatune Network is always going to be there. That's what I make most of my money through; it's my stability, so it's not necessarily going to go away, and it's not necessarily a bad thing either. There are things I love about Skatune Network, but I don't want to just be recognized as the person who has the ska covers; my artistry goes so much further than that.

I get some sort of validation whenever I make a post on my friends-only TikTok, and I'll get a response from one of my mutuals who just talks about pre-historic dinosaur facts. They’re a very special interest autistic person who has no business about music, but they liked one of my covers, and they'll always respond, “Why are people confused? Isn't JER your original music and Skatune Network is your covers?” Thank you, random TikTok person who's not in the music scene, because some people make it sound like building the two brands is the most confusing thing in the world. This rollout with Death of the Heart and the JER band has been very strong, and people are starting to really latch on. People from other music scenes are finding me through JER. Skatune Network reaches people who have nostalgia for whatever I'm covering, but it doesn't go much further than that. JER music is reaching people where the message resonates with them.

I found a new creator who talks a lot about communist stuff, and they're following the band page, not Skatune Network. The first 40,000 or so followers didn't follow Skatune Network. People don't believe me when I say that, but they are two very different followings. Sometimes they'll be following some Bad Time Records bands, but most likely it's bands like Scowl, Turnstile, or Pinkshift. They'll maybe follow Doechii and Kendrick Lamar, then a bunch of leftist creators. My music is reaching this audience of people who may not normally go to shows and may not be into the music scene we're into, but that's been the core JER following for a little while.

Photo by Rae Mystic

When we played Minneapolis with the JER band, I asked the audience who was at the Bad Time Records show not even a year ago, and maybe 15 people raised their hands. That's crazy, because the Bad Time show also sold 500 tickets in Minneapolis. It was mostly people who are into ska and punk. Definitely a different audience, but I expected more than 15 people to raise their hands. From the outset, the JER audience has been very different from the Bad Time shows. Part of that is probably because I tour with bands both in and out of the ska scene, so I'm bringing in different groups. People find me through TikTok, and that's how they show up. I'm at the merch table, and a lot of my TikTok mutuals who make content not geared toward music are the ones coming out to shows, and they are still the ones who come out to shows multiple times. I'm finding people who don’t have a regular show-goer background, but they're getting into shows and live music because of that. 

In the last year, especially with Death of the Heart, a lot of people in ska are starting to get hip. There was also a moment I noticed that happened a lot, where I'd be at a show, and people are like, “Oh, you're coming through New York?” I would say, “Yeah, I'm playing with We Are The Union, but also I have my own project, and I'm coming through here,” and people would straight up say, “I'd rather just see We Are The Union.” That was part of why I stepped away from playing with other bands, because it wasn't just We Are The Union; people were saying things like, “I saw you when you were playing on tour with Catbite!” I hopped up for a song or two, but I wasn’t a member of Catbite. I didn't even announce I was going on stage; you just went to the show and you saw me on stage.

It got to the point where, until people understand, I need to make it clear online and through social media that the JER band is the thing. I also do covers, but Skatune Networks is not a band. If you want to see me live, go see the JER band. That's my main focus. Over the last year, especially with the new record, I think that has been achieved.

SWIM: Hell yeah. What's up next for the JER band? Anything that you want people to know?

JER: The Bad Time tour, round two. 2026. We're doing the full U.S. West Coast, East Coast, and Midwest. Sorry, Texas, we're going to get back there as soon as we can. We were supposed to play Texas last year, but I was in a bad financial spot and had to drop off those shows. If I forced those shows to happen, it probably would've left me in a worse financial spot, which would've made it where I had to drop off the Bad Time tour. I'd rather save energy, recover more, and be able to do the Bad Time tour in a much healthier spot. Especially with the way shows are selling now, if those shows do well, my goal is to play some more in the back half of the year. 

I've been demoing and writing lyrics. I know I said earlier that I probably won't put out a record in the next year and a half, but anything could happen. My main focus is the Bad Time tour. It might just be a little touring hiatus after that.

SWIM: Well, I'm excited to see you in Seattle. That'll be a lot of fun. 

JER: Yeah, I'm so excited for that show in particular. 

SWIM: Any lasting thoughts or impressions about the album? 

JER: Thanks for having me. This record wasn't getting any sort of press push, so whenever people like you want to talk about this record or show up to shows, any sort of love or support is so appreciated from the bottom of my heart. Shouts out to y'all as well as the people who make the band possible. The JER band, in particular, the musicians who have dedicated so much to this band. Mike, for putting the record out. It takes a village. If it were just me, I'd be in my room playing songs to nobody. What makes it special is the people who listen, the people who connect, the people who care to be there. That's what makes this shit dope. So thank y'all. 

SWIM: Absolutely. Thanks so much.


Ciara Rhiannon (she/her) is a pathological music lover writing out of a nebulous location somewhere in the Pacific Northwest within close proximity of her two cats. She consistently appears on most socials as @rhiannon_comma, and you can read more of her musical musings over at rhiannoncomma.substack.com.

A Dive Into The Deep End With Pool Kids

Photo By David Williams

The art of being a showstopper is not something that is easily quantifiable. There’s no math equation or magic formula you can use to determine when an artist attains this mythical status, but you probably know it when you see it. In a world where inflation has hit concert ticket prices harder than a Mike Tyson hook to the ribcage, fans have to pick and choose which shows they attend now more than ever. People are looking for a reason to leave their house, and when they do, they want to have an experience. That’s where the showstopper comes in, giving the audience an uncompromising performance that’s unmatched by their peers. The audience wants something memorable that they can tell their friends about — something they didn’t know they needed, maybe something they didn’t even know was possible. 

That’s where Christine Goodwyne, Caden Clinton, Andy Anaya, and Nicolette Alvarez enter the conversation. The quartet hailing from Tallahassee, Florida, make up the rock band Pool Kids. I had my head blown off seeing them perform their latest record, Easier Said Than Done, on their headlining tour this past fall. I can confirm that a song like “Leona Street,” with its pop-flair chorus, hits just as hard in person as it does on the record. In comparison to their first two albums, which leaned into the group’s mathy emo tendencies, I get the sense that Pool Kids allowed themselves more freedom on Easier Said Than Done, which also means they had new avenues to go absolutely batshit on stage.

Photo By David Williams

In concert, the band elevates their music in the best way possible, bringing an unlimited amount of energy to the stage and demanding it in return from the crowd. This was a throwback type of performance from a band that is clearly a master of their craft and fan engagement. Goodwyne had the fans in the palm of her hand as she crowd surfed and made her way to the middle of the room, essentially singing in the eye of the storm. All the while, Anaya was gesturing to his ears for more noise from the fans, like he was mid-80s Hulk Hogan hyping up the crowd.

Even with their fierce and precise instrumentation, there’s an unpredictability with Pool Kids that makes them worth the price of admission. At the show I went to, Christine Goodwyne got engaged on stage with her now-fiancé. If that isn’t unpredictable, then I don’t know what is. 

Last fall, before their sold-out show at Lincoln Hall in Chicago, I got a chance to have a photoshoot around the venue with Pool Kids. Christine Goodwyne responded to my questions via email about everything from their approach to live shows to dream bands to tour with and getting engaged on stage. 


Photo By David Williams

SWIM: What's the last show you saw that lit a competitive spirit and made you want to practice harder for the next time you went to the studio? 

GOODWYNE: I don't know that I feel “competitive” in those situations; I see it more as feeling inspired. I love it when I go to a show and find myself feeling inspired and motivated to get home and work. I definitely felt that way watching Foxing at Thalia Hall, which was literally the last show we played. I always say that I feel inspired by so many of the bands we play with, but I really do mean it in a literal sense. I see other people’s ideas and the way they do things then it makes me feel excited to go back home and work on ways to make our show better. 

SWIM: Is how you approach creating music today different than how you approached your debut record in 2018? 

GOODWYNE: Definitely. For our debut record, I was trying to finish it as quickly as possible and didn't really know how to pick a song apart or experiment with structure and presentation. I would just kind of write random guitar parts and smash them together, which I think gave that record a more math-rock feel that some people like. I also wrote most of the vocals after figuring out the guitars. Now I figure out vocals as I’m fleshing out the guitar and general structure. I also tinker with the songs a lot more before deciding on what to bring to the band, and then we have fun tinkering even more as a full band. But yeah, the biggest difference is definitely that it’s not just Caden and me anymore, so there’s a lot more insight and input and exploration with all four of us once we get in a room together.

SWIM: Easier Said Than Done has countless fun, sing-along choruses, with the standout for me being "Leona Street." Are there any bands you listened to growing up that influenced how you create a fun pop song? 

GOODWYNE: I didn’t really start getting into pop music until my adult life, I would say, a few years after starting the band. I had a lot of catching up to do, I got really into Charli XCX and Lady Gaga, and now I can appreciate a lot of Taylor Swift, too. But when I started getting into that kind of music, that’s definitely when I started to pay more attention to song structure and writing an actual chorus, and what makes a chorus or a hook “catchy.”

SWIM: Can you tell me about your vision going into making Easier Said Than Done: the topics you wanted to approach and how you wanted the songs to sound sonically?

GOODWYNE: I don’t know that I’ve ever sat down before writing a record and decided ahead of time what topics I want to approach. I feel like I’m just always slowly writing songs, and whichever ones aren’t ready in time for the studio on the current record just get carried over to the next. As far as subject matter, not to get all Rick Rubin or spiritual about it, but I sort of feel like I don’t have much of a choice in what ideas come to me. I’m kind of just at the mercy of whatever lyric ideas pop into my head, and then I just have to take that and run with it. I never in a million years would have planned to write a song like “Dani,” which is about a childhood friend’s trauma, but the lyrics just started coming to me, so I was like “welp, here we go I guess.”

SWIM: Your live show is an incredibly fun experience worth the price of admission alone. In this day and age, shows are about stage presence and keeping the fans engaged, which you all seem to be students of the game in that regard. How did you all develop your stage presence? Is it something that happened naturally, or did it take time to develop? 

GOODWYNE: That’s a great question. We actually used to be super stiff on stage, and I remember the moment where that really changed. We were going on one of our first tours with Mom Jeans, and a friend who had also toured with them was like, “You just have to go absolutely crazy on stage to keep their attention. They see you as a barrier standing in between them and who they really want to see, so you just have to go absolutely crazy.” We all sort of looked at each other before going on stage and were like, “fuck it, who cares if we look stupid, let’s just go fucking crazy.” Andy already had a great stage presence at that point because he had been touring for a long time before that, but I remember that show being sort of a breakthrough for Nicolette and I. We realized how much better it made the show, and we just started doing that every time. 

Photo By David Williams

SWIM: Who is on your dream list of bands you would love to tour with in the future? 

GOODWYNE: I’ll spare you the list of 100 bands, but ones we’ve been talking about more recently have definitely been Wet Leg, Mannequin Pussy, HAIM, Amyl and the Sniffers, Japanese Breakfast, and Wednesday… there are so many more, though. 

SWIM: Biopics seem to be the latest rage recently from movies about Bob Dylan, Pavement and now Bruce Springsteen in the past year. What's your favorite music biopic film and why?

GOODWYNE: I sort of live under a rock and don’t think I’ve seen any true biopics, but we definitely love a good music doc. We LOVE Some Kind of Monster, as well as Mistaken for Strangers, both of which were shown to us by Andy.

SWIM: Lastly, congratulations to Christine on getting engaged at the Chicago show! What an amazing moment that must have been. Can you describe to me the emotions you were going through up there on stage while everything was happening? Did you have a heads-up that something was up, or were you totally in shock? 

GOODWYNE: Me AND THE BAND both had no idea it was going to happen, haha. He didn’t want there to be any secrets in the van because he knew I would grill everyone if I sensed something was up, so he really kept it a secret. I did know to expect a proposal within the year or so, and I had even dropped hints about wanting an on-stage proposal… but for whatever reason, it just did NOT cross my mind to expect it that day. I was watching him sing and dance for the whole set, and then he disappeared for like the last three songs. I asked the crowd, “Where is Nick??!” and when he walked up onto the stage, I thought he was just showing me ‘here I am, babe!’ but right before he grabbed the mic, I saw that his facial expression was very focused instead of funny, and that’s when I realized what was happening haha. He nailed it. 


David is a content mercenary based in Chicago. He’s also a freelance writer specializing in music, movies, and culture. His hidden talents are his mid-range jump shot and the ability to always be able to tell when someone is uncomfortable at a party. You can find him scrolling away on Instagram @davidmwill89, Twitter @Cobretti24, or Medium @davidmwms.

Ben Quad – Wisher | Album Review

Pure Noise Records

Ben Quad are back. Not only are they back, but they’re fucking huge. Or at least that's what it feels like for those of us in the emo world, anyway.

I first discovered Ben Quad because I was endeared by the idea of a new band using so many interesting tricks and flips from the same dust I grew up in. They’re one of several Oklahoma acts from the past several years to break out of their local scene to more renowned heights, alongside acts like CLIFFDIVER, Chat Pile, and Red Sun. What makes Oklahoma such an outpost for this style of music? I am not quite sure, but earlier this year, I was in Ben Quad’s home state for a couple of concerts. Both nights, I stood outside my hotel room, looking at the way the sky never ends there. If I grew up under that sky, I would try to absorb the world with my guitars, too. 

Wisher is technically Ben Quad’s sophomore album. But between 2022’s I'm Scared That’s All There Is and present day, the band has unleashed a steady flow of releases that tightened their sound and expanded their ambitions. First, they released “You’re Part of It,” a standalone screamo single that felt like an instant addition to the Emo Canon. Then there was Hand Signals, a tour split, and finally Ephemera, their 2024 post-hardcore EP where they cited groups like Underoath and Norma Jean as inspiration. Wisher elaborates on the Ben Quad that Ephemera left behind, offering something not quite as genre-hopping but upholding that harsher sonic twist with even more experimentation. 

Ben Quad have described their new album as “post-emo,” a kind of theoretical subgenre that I’ve heard described as “emo but better” or “not real” depending on who you ask. Whatever it is, it marks a departure from the rules of the original emo sound and a step further into the depths of rock.

Wisher is an album that spans the parking lots of Warped Tour metalcore, the terrain of midwest emo, and the highs of country lilts, all with dizzying guitar tapping, frenzied screaming, and a desperate demand for something better than this. The record is full of “what-ifs,” both sonically and lyrically. What if we dialed this amp to eleven? What if we added tooth-grinding bass here? What if I told them I’m sorry? What if they told me they’re sorry? Say you’re sorry, you’ve been so hard on me. You. You. You.

The album begins with a banjo’s twang on “What Fer,” floating over the atmosphere that Ben Quad are desperately trying to find the limits of. The instrument bends with the breeze before ripping into the sky with electric guitars playing so ferociously you worry they might summon a lightning strike. The energy they build here shocks everything directly into “Painless” where Sam Wegrzynski begs some faceless other to “please just tell me how you’re doing” while Edgar Viveros’ guitar arcs around the song.

It’s at this point that I realized this album is so big that I had to talk to them about it.

Swim Into The Sound: This album sounds massive. As a long-time Ben Quad listener, I have always appreciated how flexible y’all are in your sound, but this is the biggest the band has sounded yet. I know you spoke a bit about the expansive studio access inspiring some of the sound, but what about the scale? 

Edgar Viveros: A lot of that has to do with Jon Markson’s magic. We really wanted to go with someone who could have a major impact on the production of the record. We walked into that studio with the intention of writing bigger choruses, and he knew exactly how to make them sound massive. We had so many new direct influences on the record, too — country, electronic, pop-rock. We knew early on that we wanted to have songs that got as big as a Third Eye Blind, Goo Goo Dolls, or Killers track.

No matter whether the band was tapping out Midwest Emo, post-hardcore, or playing along to an Always Sunny clip, Viveros’ guitar playing has always been a beloved aspect of Ben Quad. His style is very distinct in this era of post-emo: irrevocably fast, intricate, and loud. During live shows, Viveros stands center stage, radiant, as the crowd screams at him to play forever. On Wisher, he does seem to play forever, each song demanding something new and exciting, like the ethereal reverberations of “Classic Case of Guy on the Ground” or the world-absorbing work on the closer, “I Hate Cursive and I Hate All of You.” 

SWIM: I personally hear a lot of the stuff I grew up with — third and fourth wave emo, 2010s metalcore. What music were you inspired by while recording this album? What was it like working with Jon Markson?

VIVEROS: This record was influenced by so many things that I know I’ll probably forget something. The 3rd and 4th wave influence is definitely there. We’re all big fans of stuff like Taking Back Sunday, The All-American Rejects, and Motion City Soundtrack, and I don’t think there’ll ever be a Ben Quad record where my guitar playing won’t be inspired by Algernon Cadwallader and CSTVT. Stuff like Brakence and Porter Robinson heavily inspired the glitched-up guitar samples that are all over the record. There’s a good amount of banjo and slide guitar that draws inspiration from country and folk music. Personally, the recent wave of alt-country, like MJ Lenderman, really inspired me to dive into that style of playing. Beyond that, there’s huge Third Eye Blind and late 90s/early 2000s pop-rock influence. 

When it comes down to it, a lot of this record was us channeling the sounds we loved growing up to make something new. Jon Markson helped out so much with making that vision come together. His perspective was such a valuable resource when we were finalizing songs, and I don’t think I’ve ever worked with anyone who has pushed me to be a better musician as much as he did. It was such a cool experience to wake up and record music all day with him for three weeks. That guy rules. I look forward to being isolated on a farm with him many, many more times.

Photo by Kamdyn Coker

There’s a chance that this album might launch a dozen tweets about Ben Quad not being emo anymore from whatever the remnants of DIY Twitter are posting these days, but know that there’s nothing people can say that Ben Quad doesn’t already know. They make this abundantly clear on “Did You Decide to Skip Arts and Crafts?” with Sam Canty from Treaty Oak Revival.

SWIM: I’ve always heard that Oklahoma sound in your music, but never as much as I hear it in “Did You Decide to Skip Arts and Crafts.” What inspired y’all to bring a country twang to such a loud emo song? Do you see a connection between country and emo?

VIVEROS: I demoed out the instrumentals for that song in the summer of 2024 and really didn’t know where to take it. I kind of just wrote the song structure to be a mixture of big, anthemic Wonder Years choruses and some of the twangier moments in the Beths’ catalogue. It really came together when we invited our friend Sam Canty to hop on the track. That’s when I think we decided to really lean on the arena country-rock sound. I specifically love how Rocklahoma-coded the bridge sounds. Sam Canty’s feature fits so perfectly. I think the link between the two is a lot closer than people think. Sonically, both genres incorporate sparkly single coil guitars, and they both get pretty sad. Country is just farm emo.

I agree with all of the above: the connection between country and emo is storied, they’re both wrought, misunderstood genres that come from the middle of our nation. The aforementioned track starts with a phone call from Canty, playing a detractor of Ben Quad’s ever-evolving sound, telling them that they “ain’t the same anymore.” The song kicks in, and eventually Ben Quad gets him to change his mind and his sound too. Isaac Young clears a space in his drumming for Canty to return to the song to yell too, his Texas accent curving around an exasperated, “I guess it never made a fuckin’ difference to you.”

It’s impossible to discuss this album without acknowledging just how many people are on it; in addition to the Treaty Oak Revival frontman’s appearance, Zayna Youssef from Sweet Pill joins Wegrzynski and Henry Shields to kick your teeth in on “You Wanted Us, You Got Us.” Later on, “West of West” features Nate Hardy of Microwave, who contributes what might be the heaviest moment on the entire LP. It all starts to feel like a totally deserved victory lap, a testament to how big emo (or post-emo) has grown over the past few years, and a reminder of how much Ben Quad has grown since they met each other on a Craigslist post over their love of Microwave and Modern Baseball. 

SWIM: Y’all have called this album a kind of evolution for Ben Quad. How would you describe Ben Quad’s evolution since I’m Scared That’s All There Is, sonically? Since that album, y’all have also toured pretty nonstop (I think I’ve seen you guys three or four times on different tours over the past few years) – How would you describe Ben Quad’s evolution since your debut beyond the sound? Any ideas on what’s next after Wisher?

VIVEROS: I’m Scared That’s All There Is was cool because it was basically us doing emo revival worship with a little bit of a modern twist. Since then, we’ve just been throwing more and more influences into the kettle. I love that you can trace through our discography and see us gradually adding influences of screamo and post-hardcore. This new stuff has country, electronic, pop, and so much more thrown into the mix, and I’m just excited to keep growing that sound moving forward. 

Beyond sound though, I think we’ve grown in a lot of ways since the ISTATI days. We’re way more road-worn. When we released ISTATI, we hadn’t actually done a proper tour. Now, we’re releasing this new record on like our sixth full US tour. That alone has given us so much perspective on the world and many chances to meet a lot of talented and insightful people. I’d say our biggest area of progression has been in the confidence of our songwriting abilities. We’ve put out a handful of releases at this point, so sitting down and writing songs just feels so natural now. We’ve learned to just go with our gut when it comes to making music. I think any writing roadblock we encountered during the recording process was sheerly because we were afraid of sounding too honest or vulnerable. 

At the end of the day, if we think it sounds good, then that’s all that matters. As far as what’s next after Wisher, I have no idea. Maybe we’ll make a real butt-rock record. Some real Breaking Benjamin type shit.

Anything is possible when it comes to Ben Quad. At its heart, that’s what Wisher is about: testing how far post-emo can stretch, showing off the possibilities of the sounds they can craft, and clearing a path for what’s next. On Wisher, Ben Quad ain’t the fucking same anymore, but who would want them to be?

Around this time, three years ago, Ben Quad released “You’re Part of It,” where they chanted endlessly and heart-wrenchingly about how they were just waiting for all of this to fall apart. Unfortunately, with Wisher, they’re just going to have to keep waiting, because this album is universe-engulfing and none of this is falling apart.


Caro Alt (she/her) is from New Orleans, Louisiana, and if she could be anyone in The Simpsons, she would be Milhouse.

The Timeline-Altering Shoegaze of Total Wife

Photo by Sean Booz

Shopping for vintage clothes is a hobby that I treat more like a sport. Whenever I find myself researching the best places to find garments of the past, I feel like a star quarterback studying game tape. It’s both about the thrill of the hunt and that feeling of discovering a diamond in the rough that’s been repeatedly passed over by onlookers who didn’t realize what they were missing.

Today, shoegaze bands are a lot like going vintage shopping. There are so many different iterations and variations of homogeneous items from the past, but by being patient and dedicated, you will come across that timeless piece if you know exactly where to look. Insert the band Total Wife.

The Nashville experimental shoegaze duo is centered around the creative partnership between Luna Kupper and Ash Richter, though when they play live, their ranks expand to include a bassist, a second guitarist, and a drummer. The group is signed to Julia’s War Recordings, the Philadelphia-based record label founded by Doug Dulgarian of They Are Gutting a Body of Water, which is pushing the genre forward with some of the most exciting music in the underground from Her New Knife, Joyer, Bedridden, and now Total Wife. What makes Total Wife an unmistakable hit is their fearlessness. Both Kupper and Richter create art that feels like it could only have come from them and them alone. Their new record, come back down, has a DIY aesthetic both musically and visually that feels fresh, exciting, and unique to everything else that’s out there today.

Total Wife craft songs that would not only fit in on the radio in 1991, but also feel future-proofed for 3001.  Let’s start at that first extreme with tracks like “peaches” and “second spring,” which are good enough to make any My Bloody Valentine devotee blush with excitement. It’s a wet dream for any fans of that style of music; both Kupper and Richter are true students of the game, as evidenced by the way they’re able to slather on countless waves of distorted guitar tones that mend and mold depending on the mood of each song. There’s a sharpness and respect to their craft in how they are able to achieve such a specific sound while also molding their guitar tones into their own entity. It’s an impressive feat considering a shit ton (for the record, I consider a “shit ton” to be the unofficial highest measure of the metric system) of bands that are currently trying to achieve the same sound.

Elsewhere on the same record, we get a taste of what I imagine music will sound like eighty years from now. Songs like “ofersi3” and “internetsupermagazine” are sharp left turns into a combination of breakbeats, hyperpop, and hard techno that inspire Jersey Shore-levels of fist pumping where the speed gets turned up to infinity. The decision to veer into this type of rapid-fire sub-genre expedition feels so fresh, vital, and needed in today’s shoegaze landscape. The result is something I imagine people might listen to while flying to work on their jetpack.

I love it when bands try to test the limits of what musical lengths they can achieve. Total Wife’s reverence for the past while creating music that feels so future-forward makes them one of the most exciting projects I have heard all year. The most exciting part is that the music on come back down has constructed an endless number of doors, each offering different possibilities of where the band could take their sonic excursions next.

I got to chat with Total Wife over Zoom, where we talked about Halloween costumes, first-ever concert experiences, and a sado-masochistic moment on stage in Pittsburgh that potentially left a fan lost in another dimension.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length


SWIM: You just finished touring for your latest record. How did it go? 

LUNA: Yeah, it was really fun! All the shows were fun, we love our friends, and there were some really late drives this time, but we made it out. We were doing a lot of late-night driving. 

SWIM: Do you have any fun playlists to keep you going when you’re driving at night?

ASH: It’s up to the driver. Whoever’s driving gets to choose.

LUNA: It gets a little manic at times. I feel like it’ll get into nightcore remixes and shit to keep us wired. 

SWIM: I read a lot of Stephen King, so whenever I hear the word “manic,” I’m instantly brought back to his work for whatever reason, which leads me to my next question: Are you all excited for Halloween this year?

LUNA: Yeah! We usually have some kind of Halloween show plans, but we don’t this time. There’s one like a couple of days after, but yeah, we have to figure it out. We were The Matrix last year, and that was great. 

SWIM: Was anyone Neo or Trinity? 

LUNA: We were more vague characters within the Matrix universe. Our own Matrix characters. 

SWIM: Do you guys remember your first Halloween costume? 

ASH: The first one that I remember was when I did The Wizard of Oz with my family. I was the Scarecrow.

LUNA: I was a pile of leaves. That’s like my first memory. Being a pile of leaves, just a suit with a bunch of leaves attached to me. [laughs]

SWIM: What was your first-ever concert memory?

ASH: I saw Van Halen in 2007 with my dad for my birthday. 

LUNA: My first show was in 2012, and I saw Connor Oberst at Carnegie Hall, which is a crazy first.

SWIM: Both of you have crazy fun first shows. Do you remember the first show you guys saw together? 

ASH: That’s a good question. I feel like it was the Flaming Lips. We’ve known each other for a really long time. But yeah, they were on tour with Tame Impala in 2013, I think, and The Flaming Lips were opening, so that was cool. 

Photo by Sean Booz

SWIM: I really love the guitar textures on come back down, they sound so lush and beautiful. Is that a style you guys developed over time, or is there a particular era of music that you were influenced by to achieve that type of sound? 

LUNA: We’ve always made dense, layered stuff, usually with guitars and synths. The guitar just became more natural and sounded more organic. Just adding more and more guitar layer textures until it was only that. I think it comes from listening to a lot of nineties music and early 2000s stuff over time. 

SWIM: I get a little My Bloody Valentine type of vibes, Loveless, which is my type of stuff. It was done so expertly, in my opinion.

I was watching an interview with Pete Davidson, and he was talking about how Adam Sandler is seven years ahead of everyone in fashion, and I thought it was really funny yet accurate. So, to bring it back to you both, I was listening to “ofersi3,” which sounds like it’s a hundred years ahead of where everyone else is right now. When I imagine what people in the year 3000 will be listening to, it’s exactly that. How did you come up with that song? 

LUNA: [Laughs] Thank you. The whole first half is just a couple classic breaks that I distorted to create different notes. It’s not any crazy processing other than chopping audio files super tiny to make them tonal. Over time in the song, each beat gets fragmented further and further until they’re tonal and then end up creating different sounds. Those sounds then get chopped up for the second half and mixed in with some of the vocal samples taken from an old Elliot Smith cover that we never finished.

SWIM: Was this a time-consuming process to create, or did it come fairly quickly to you? 

LUNA: It was pretty fast. It kind of had to happen all at once because of this one unfolding thought, and I felt like I had to see where it went in that moment or else it wouldn’t be true to itself.

SWIM: Both of your styles are so unique. Did that develop over time? Were you always outgoing and willing to express yourself, or did it mature over time?

ASH: I think it was always pretty unique. When we were younger, we were just trying really hard to be weird at the cost of something listenable.

I think being daring and bold has kind of always been in our repertoire of songwriting. 

LUNA: Yeah, but it feels like recently, with this album, and maybe for a couple of years, it felt like enough time had passed that we’ve been doing this, so as long as we stay true to ourselves, whatever we do would sound different. Also, not trying to sound like anyone else. For a while, you’re just inspired by other musicians and trying to learn how to sound like your favorite bands until you have your own mix of whatever you’re trying to do.

SWIM: Did it take a while for you to find your own voice, or was it a quick process?

ASH: I think we always were doing something that was our own voice, but our influences were just so solidly there. I felt like we had to learn how to write songs first before we could sound like ourselves. We’ve been focusing more on the songwriting and structure, then adding all the personality to something that’s already true to classic songwriting. 

SWIM: When you’re on stage, do you feel you’re able to get your personality across to the fans while performing? Do you feel you’re able to be your true, unfiltered self up there, or does it help to get in the mindset of a different character, similar to an actor?

LUNA: I’m curious to see what your response is going to be. [laughing while talking to Ash]

ASH: I try to lock into the songs themselves in my performance and really think about what I’m saying, ‘cause the majority of what I do on stage is just singing. Then I have like a few samples I play as well, which are leads.

So, to give my best performance, I usually focus really hard on how I felt when I wrote the words to the songs and try to embody the truest version of that me. 

LUNA: I had to learn how to be fully comfortable and myself on stage, ‘cause at first, I was pretty nervous about that stuff. We’ve been recording in a studio for so long, so I had to be the calmest version of myself, which at first was impossible, but I figured it out. So yeah, I feel comfortable with it.

SWIM: I have to ask about a recent show in Pittsburgh where you played an over twenty-minute extended noise jam at the end of the song “make it last.” I read an article Eli Enis wrote, which, I have to quote him here, saying that this instance “felt like a sado-masochistic ritual” and potentially left a 19-year-old man named Carl in another dimension after what he had just witnessed. Can you please describe whether this usually happens during your shows, or was this a one-off kind of thing?

LUNA: Yeah, we always do that. [laughs]

ASH: It’s not necessarily supposed to be sado-masochistic. [laughs]

LUNA: It’s funny to see everyone’s different reaction to that. It’s a thing that happens, and the audience gets to experience it however they want. 

ASH: The truth is that we’ve done it in so many different ways, and everybody has a completely different reaction to it. We’ve done it differently in different places, and sometimes it feels like that, I guess.

LUNA: It’s interesting ‘cause people will, I find it either very aggressive or very soothing, which, I think, we’re trying to go for soothing. It’s something I want to exist only in the time it exists, so it’s hard to talk about, but, yeah, it’s definitely supposed to create a oneness with everyone there. I hope it is meditative for some people, you know? 

SWIM: Do you have a favorite part of touring? 

ASH: Honestly, getting to perform every night is my favorite part. Whenever we have a night off, I’m relieved in part, but also a little bummed. I really enjoy the experience where we’re basically just playing all these local bills with people who are active in their own scene. That is really cool to see how other scenes function because we’re so used to Nashville at this point. Yeah, it’s cool to be inspired by the different ways every scene uplifts itself and try to bring that home. 

SWIM: Do you guys like to explore the cities you visit on off days? 

ASH: Yeah. Sean, who plays drums in Total Wife, he’ll usually look up something on Atlas Obscura on an off day, and we’ll go to a cool cemetery or something.

LUNA: It’ll just show you oddities in whatever city you’re in. Just like weird, strange things that you can usually find for free, stuff that you wouldn’t find on Google or Apple Maps if you typed in ‘local attractions.’ 

I obviously love the music part of tour, but didn’t realize that touring so much meant that you’re just traveling all the time, which is really good for my brain in a way that I didn’t expect. The way it removes you from the cycle of your everyday life puts you outside of your head for a second, and then you can come back into it. It really does something crazy to my brain that I need. The road can definitely be soothing for different people, like just to travel and whatnot.

SWIM: You both have created a really distinct visual aesthetic —from the album cover art to the music videos —is that a collaborative effort between you two? 

ASH: I feel like we just have been making a lot of stuff for many years. For example, need-based flyers for shows. Art for promotion and stuff like that. When I was younger, I kind of overthought making art, and I thought if I’m not some classically trained artist, then what’s the point of making anything? But basically, I started using collage when I couldn’t draw what I wanted. I just had all these conceptual ideas and collages that really lend themselves well—combining concepts and just mashing up imagery together. 

A lot of the art is collaborative; we kind of just pass it back and forth. 

LUNA: Yeah. It’s a lot of passing back and forth with that stuff, or just making art alongside each other. Just snap reactions to this will be cool; that’ll be cool for that. Also, kind of accumulating different ideas and collages over the years, like Ash said. This project has always been both musical and visual. I think all of our output is just put into Total Wife. 

SWIM: How fulfilling is it to tag-team visual mediums, stuff other than music, together? 

ASH: Oh, yeah. It feels impossible to imagine not working together. Just because of how long it’s been, it’s such a long, growing process where we’ve worked through a lot of artistic disputes and refined the art we make, using each other as a sounding board. 

SWIM: Do you feel you operate creatively differently now than when you first met? 

LUNA: Totally. We were just trying to work out how we wanted to make stuff and had no end goal. We still kind of don’t, but it’s much easier to finish things now. 

ASH: I feel like we’re much more sure when we’re giving our opinions. We used to know what we didn’t want versus what we did. That helped because it helped us refine ourselves, but it took a while to sort out what exactly felt like us.

Neither of us started with any music theory knowledge or any real background in songwriting. I was in and out of bands, but I never learned to play guitar until last year. 

SWIM: Has your songwriting become easier for you now than it was 12 years ago? 

ASH: Definitely, yeah. It really started with recording just to have recordings, make songs, and have sounds. And then we were slowly making songs, which was kind of the reverse. 

Photo by Sean Booz

SWIM: What do you all have planned for the rest of the year? 

LUNA: We just have one more show planned. We’re doing so much touring and the album rollout. We’re both really excited to get back in the studio.

ASH: Yeah, so we’re just taking a little break from shows. 

LUNA: We have a bunch of songs written, and the next album has about like ten Pro Tools projects for new songs. That’s been in the sitting stage for so long because this was the first time we decided to do anything with the release other than just upload it the second we had the masters. 

SWIM: Is there gonna be a tonal shift with your next project?

LUNA: Honestly, not really. I would like to hear what people think, because in my mind, a lot of these songs could have been on this most recent album. 

Starting an album while the other one is being finished means each new record half sounds like the last one. So I think that’ll probably be the case with this one. It’ll be like half of the ideas I wanted to finish up on the last thing, half new stuff, and further trying to mesh everything and sound less disjointed.

SWIM: Is there anything else you all wanna talk about or bring up before we sign off?

LUNA: Nashville is awesome. There are a lot of cool bands here, and I'm just always trying to rep that. There are a lot of weird and fun bands out here, a lot of cool music that you wouldn’t expect.

SWIM: Who are some bands people should know about from Nashville? 

LUNA: The members of our band all have their own projects. Celltower and Make Yourself at Home. I play in another band called Melaina Kol. There’s just all these great bands. Sour Tooth, they’re amazing. 

SWIM: With you both living in Nashville, have either of you seen Haley Williams walking around?

LUNA: Yeah. She comes to the bagel shop I work at. 

SWIM: Oh, no way. 

ASH: I wanna meet her so bad. 

LUNA: She’s sweet, actually, which is nice to know. She’s a sweetheart. Thank goodness. 

SWIM: Thank you again for taking the time. I really appreciate it, and I hope you both have a wonderful day.

Luna and Ash in unison: Thank you! You too! 


David is a content mercenary based in Chicago. He’s also a freelance writer specializing in music, movies, and culture. His hidden talents are his mid-range jump shot and the ability to always be able to tell when someone is uncomfortable at a party. You can find him scrolling away on Instagram @davidmwill89, Twitter @Cobretti24, or Medium @davidmwms.