The Faux 8 Diaries

Have you ever seen that video of a guy dancing alone at a music festival? It’s broad daylight in a wide-open field. Some people sit scattered around on blankets, but there he stands, dancing all alone, waving his arms like a wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man, grooving out in the truest sense of the word. Eventually, another guy wanders over and starts busting out his funkiest moves, and all of a sudden, this shirtless dude who was standing off by himself is now dancing with someone. Then another person joins in, and three is a crowd. Shortly after that, another couple of people come up, then a group of three. Soon, the mass is growing too fast to count. By the end of the video, people are running towards the crowd, eager to join the actively expanding dance floor. That’s what Fauxchella feels like.

For the uninitiated, Faux (fka Fauxchella) is a DIY/emo/punk music festival in Bowling Green, Ohio, organized by the now-defunct house venue The Summit Shack. While the first two incarnations were hosted at The Shack, all of the following Fauxchellas (plus a few seasonal offshoots) have taken place at Howard’s Club H, a 200-cap dive bar with two stages, $3 PBRs, and $2 shots. Hell yeah. Previous iterations of the fest have included the likes of Origami Angel, Ben Quad, saturdays at your place, Michael Cera Palin, and so many goddamn more. I’m not being hyperbolic at all when I say that it’s basically heaven on earth if you like fast music and guitar tapping. 

If you’re interested in learning more about the history of Fauxchella and The Summit Shack, a couple of years ago, I conducted a long-form interview with Conor Alan, which serves as a retrospective of the festival in all its iterations. There’s also a big recap I did on Fauxchella VI, complete with lots of video footage of different sets.

This June, I made the 12-hour drive up to Bowling Green for Faux 8, because this was one I could not miss. First and foremost, this was set to be the last Fauxchella at Howard’s, given that the fest has long outgrown the confines of the dive bar’s charming sticker-covered walls. Musically, I was excited to catch sets from old faves like Equipment, Summerbruise, and Kerosene Heights. There were also many bands on this year’s lineup I was ecstatic to catch for the first time, like Waving, 95COROLLA, Fend, red sun, and Keep for Cheap. On top of all this, the lineup for day two felt like a miniature sequel to Liberation Weekend, featuring the likes of Pretty Bitter, Ekko Astral, and Home Is Where

Home Is Where

Since I just published a big write-up on Liberation Weekend, I wanted to do something different for Faux and not just go through the lineup band by band. Swim was also tabling the event, slinging shirts, totes, lighters, and cool little zines, so I knew I’d be too busy to realistically catch every set. Instead, I brought my trusty digi cam and tried my best to snap pics of every set and merch spread, plus some cool portraits of band members. Esteemed members of the Swim Team, Josh Ejnes and Ben Parker, were also on-site, so you’ll find their thoughts on each day below, plus some other surprises. 

Thanks to Conor, Ellie, Jake, Mike, Sergei, Trey, Nick, Jacob, and all the people who make it possible to put an event like this together. It truly takes a village, and it’s been an absolute blessing to join in and be a part of it. Faux forever. 


Faux[DACTED]

Before we get any further into this article, we should address the name of the festival. While the previous seven iterations of the fest were named “Fauxchella,” this year’s iteration was unceremoniously re-titled “FAUX 8.” That’s because, back in April, The Summit Shack received a cease and desist from AEG, the second-largest ticketing company in the world, and, notably, the purveyors of the Coachella music festival. Despite the fact that Coachella is the name of a place, despite the fact that the fest is named after a joke from Workaholics, and despite the fact that “Fauxchella” is a 200-person music festival happening halfway across the country at a college town dive bar in Ohio, AEG still felt the need to sic the lawyers on ‘em. 

The Crowd for FinalBossFight!

In the end, Faux 8 played out exactly like any other Fauxchella would, and nothing sizable changed aside from a knowing gap in the posters that were amended to read “FAUX       8” with a big blank spot. A good handful of the bands poked fun at this from the stage between songs, calling attention to how absurd it is that the people running the $600-a-head Influencer Music Festival were getting litigious and using intimidation tactics on a defunct DIY venue. While I’m glad Faux continued unabated, to me, this just feels emblematic of the way that these giant companies will crush, mangle, and intimidate anyone they can if it means a few extra dollars. The fact that they seemed to take so much glee in threatening a zero-profit emo festival, it’s no wonder why live music is in such a bad spot. Fuck you and your $15 beers. 

Alright, that's enough preamble, let's get into it. 


Josh & Ben on Faux 8: Day One

In all honesty, my specific memories of Faux 8 are few and far between. Edibles are partially responsible for this, but a bigger factor is that—at least for me—enjoyment of an event like Faux comes from surrendering to the experience as a whole rather than latching on to any particular moment. When I try to file things away in my brain for later, I often miss other stuff that’s happening right in front of me, so I prefer instead to just let everything wash over me. One benefit of this approach is that when I do remember something distinct, it means a little more; the imprint a result of organic impact rather than personal diligence. 

The thing that stuck with me the most throughout the first day of Faux 8 was how good the sound was; it kind of didn’t make any sense. Over the two days of the festival, more than 40 bands played half-hour sets in rapid succession, a schedule that doesn’t accommodate typical load-ins or soundchecks. On paper, this should be a recipe for frequent technical issues and a poor mix, but everything sounded great. I’m not even grading on a curve here because of the circumstances; the average Faux set sounds better than what you’d expect to hear at your local venue’s regular shows. I think that this high-quality sound production is an underappreciated element of what makes Faux sets so special. Shout out to Jake Pachasa and Mike Seymour, absolute killers on the boards. 

Boyclothes

There are so many bands out there that I mean to listen to but don’t. I’ll see a band come across my feed, I’ll pull up Tidal to check them out, and then bang, the doorbell rings or my dog needs to go to the bathroom. By the time I come back to the computer, I've forgotten what I was doing, and suddenly I’m listening to the Menzingers for the thousandth time. FinalBossFight! were a frequent victim of this pattern for me; they just kept falling through the cracks. Watching their set on day one of Faux, I felt like an absolute fool for not checking them out sooner; they were so good and 100% in my wheelhouse. A few songs in, I was thinking about how their stripped-down approach to pop-punk kind of reminded me of Joyce Manor, a thought that was immediately followed by their killer cover of “Five Beer Plan.” It was very serendipitous. FBF! are now a band that will forever be in my regular listening rotation, thank you Faux for the introduction.

Another day one highlight for me was Bottom Bracket, a Chicago band I’d listened to a few times but had never managed to catch live. Their set was a way more arresting performance than I was expecting. I can't fathom how someone can play guitar like that and sing so well at the same time. Their set was at 7 pm, which is where I found myself starting to feel the fatigue of the day, but they snapped me right out of it. Good bands I enjoy; great bands send a jolt through me, and Bottom Bracket firmly sit in the latter camp—very cool stuff. 

One of the things I was most looking forward to at the fest was Carly Cosgrove’s performance. This was my first time seeing the band since the release of The Cleanest of Houses Are Empty, and I’ve so badly wanted to yell “You, old, dog, you old dog, you, old, dog, you old dog, you, you old dog, you old dog, you!” in a room full of people since first hearing the record. I finally got to do it at Faux, and it was just as magical as I imagined. Tough to beat seeing a band with a no-skip discography live—great way to cap off the night.
– Josh Ejnes

I am foolishly the kind of person who sees the opportunity to spend a total of 24 hours inside a small dive bar in Ohio and thinks, “How can I spend as much of my time as possible there without leaving?” On day one, I am proud to say I left only once, and that was during the much-earned hour-long break built into the schedule. Even then, I only went next door to a little deli for a chicken sandwich and some waffle fries that were better than they needed to be.  

The real reason I wanted to spend so much time at Faux was not just because of the incredible line-up of bands and absurdly cheap drink prices, but because Faux 8, much like all years prior, is really built on such a small and niche community that unites yearly to dance and drink $3 beers together. Nothing from the day stands out more to me than going around and seeing people from the internet who I have been aware of for a long time and was finally able to meet. 

There is also something really special about attending a festival and being able to get in a moshpit with the same people that you paid money to see. The band members are all running around and taking time to see the sets. It is very rare anymore that you go to a major show and get to actually talk to the folks who are the show. It is one of the things that makes Faux feel like a giant DIY family reunion. 

Bee’s Faux Bucket Hat

There are two bands that I want to take time to talk about, and the first is Later Gator. The Indianapolis emo outfit delivered an incredible side-stage set, despite being in a challenging position, immediately following Topiary Creatures and preceding Bottom Bracket. I was at the first-ever Later Gator show, and to have seen them grow from what they were to a band that can fill the room for a Faux set is incredible. Guitarist Jonathan Bayless and his ability to wield both a guitar and trumpet at the same time is nothing short of wizardry. There were two different covers that the band performed: one was “Higher” by Creed, and the other was a spontaneous, improvised cover of “We Are Young” by fun. that materialized after Bayless broke a string. This band kept the room moving, and it was incredible to see. 

The other band I need to mention is Strelitzia, the Arizona-based math rock group who put on what had to be one of the most special performances of the entire Faux weekend. The band rarely gets out of their home state, let alone all the way to the Midwest, so getting to see them come out and play songs off their 2024 album Winter was nothing short of astounding. I sat there at the front, thrashing around and sobbing the entire set. All I can truly say is if you have the opportunity to see this band, take it, because they are better than anybody could ever tell you.
– Ben Parker


Merch Mayhem

Ever since my first Fauxchella six years ago, I’ve viewed merch as an essential part of this festival’s identity. Bands travel from all over for this fest, many already on tours routed to or from Bowling Green just for Faux. This means that almost every band has merch with them, and at this scale, you’ll never know what you’re gonna get. Free stickers? You bet your ass. Hooters logo rips? Sure, why not. Crocheted alligators? Obviously

Tucked in the back corner of Howard’s main room, spread across two pool tables and half a dozen other surfaces, you will find a packed corner of all the best emo finery you could want. Most bands had shirts and stickers, some of which were custom-made just for this fest. Others offered vinyl records, CDs, tapes, lighters, tapestries, friendship bracelets, and toothbrushes. Several of the bands provided free earplugs, Narcan, drug test kits, Plan B, leftist literature, and wallet-sized cards about how to talk to ICE, as well as other harm-reduction supplies. It was impressive to see all these merch spreads and the infinite ways that artists create beyond the music you hear on the record. Here is a gallery of merch spreads, all photos taken with permission from the bands.
– Taylor Grimes


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Caro’s Warped Tour Report: Day One

Hi Taylor, Josh, and Ben! It’s Caro, and I am on the ground and reporting not-live from that national embarrassment happening in D.C. You know, the first stop of the 30th Anniversary of the Vans Warped Tour. 

The first thing I did was follow a guy smoking a cigarette and wearing a Memphis May Fire hoodie because I thought he would know where the gates were. He didn’t. But, thanks to my bloodhound navigational skills and a giant sign that said “ENTRANCE HERE,” I found the doors. When I approached the security check, they were blasting “Can We Just Get High?” by Carpool. Honestly, I thought I was imagining it for a second, like a desert mirage, heat psychosis already setting in, but it was real and it rocked. It was finally time to take my first steps into the very big parking lot where this was all going down and start paying $18 per tall boy White Claw all weekend. 

The day started with D.C.’s own Origami Angel performing in the first hour slot on one of the main stages to a giant crowd. They played a fuck-this-shit-up version of “Dirty Mirror Selfie” and a “Love Sosa”-infused “Doctor Whomst”. I want to make it clear that people went off for our hometown heroes.

Photo by @realkayls

Publicly, I wrote an article last year about the ascent of saturdays at your place as one of the pillars of contemporary emo — you should read it — so I felt pretty clever when they were announced for Warped Tour. Privately, I’ve had a list on my phone for the past few years called “bands that deserve to have Warped Tour re-invented so they can play in a parking lot at 2 pm,” and saturdays has been on that list since 2023. Hang my byline in the rafters because guess where I was standing at 2:35 pm. Also, why did the founder of Emo Nite walk by me?

saturdays were playing on one of the smaller stages, not the one sponsored by Ghost Energy, not the one sponsored by Beatbox, not the one sponsored by Vans, and not the other one sponsored by Vans. This corner of the festival hosted smaller artists with looser genre affiliations (think local bands like Angel Du$t or legends like Fishbone) and rowdier crowds. In this slice of paradise, saturdays kept the audience locked in through fast jams like their Blink-182-ish “pourover” and the more anthemic songs like “it’s always cloudy in kalamazoo.” The founder of Emo Nite walked by me again. When the band launched into their Certified Emo Classic, “tarot cards,” the crowd reacted accordingly, launching crowdsurfers towards the stage

After saturdays, I walked over to the Vans Left Foot Stage to scope out the crowd and watch Chiodos. Taylor, Josh, and Ben, I am here to say that there were fewer Elder Emo shirts than you would think. I’m assuming that you picture everyone here wearing something like that, but honestly, of the annoying apparel, it’s pretty evenly divided between Elder Emo shirts, Make America Emo Again hats, and It Was Never a Phase patches, but overall, it just wasn’t a lot of people. Everyone else was wearing band shirts or getting a sunburn in tank tops. Also, Chiodos ruled.

Historically, the Vans Warped compilation CD has never cost more than $5, and Smartpunk collaborated with the festival to keep this tradition alive. They also worked with Warped to do a series of less-formal sets under a tent in the middle of an alley of vendors. On Saturday, they showcased local bands like American Television and The Dreaded Laramie, as well as the cannonball-ish local band Combat. Many reading this may remember Combat’s bombastic Faux performance last year, so imagine that, but at literal Warped Tour. They rocked the fuck out, took requests from audience members like Ryland Heagy and Esden Stafne, and started a thrashing moshpit with passerbys from the Sublime and Cartel crowds. 

Photo by Combat

I want to end with this begrudging Day 1 thought: I know it’s easy to be dismissive of the Warped Tour revival. Like I know the jokes write themselves and it’s easy to pick apart, but believe me, your field reporter, the crowd was consistently fucking hyped. For the most part, everyone here paid a lot of money to hear good ass music and good ass music is what they found. Minus Ice Nine Kills.
– Caro Alt


Josh & Ben on Faux 8: Day Two

Trading card trading floor

Went into day two of Faux more tired than I would have liked. I bought a Deal or No Deal DVD game for the trip, sort of as a gag, but my friends and I actually ended up getting quite addicted to it, and our sleep suffered as a result; despite this, I was able to power through and watch some great sets. An earlier-in-the-day favorite of mine was Palette Knife, a late addition to the fest, who had the side stage absolutely rocking. Felt similarly about them as I did Bottom Bracket: how can you play like that and sing like that simultaneously? Doesn’t feel like it should be possible. “Jelly Boi” is one of my favorite emo songs, and I loved hearing it live. Definitely going to be catching Palette Knife next time they’re in Chicago. 

Pretty Bitter’s set at Faux 7 was one of the best of the weekend, so I was super stoked to see that they were on the lineup again for Faux 8. I felt like last year the band didn’t fully get the hype they deserved (partially due to a tough mid day timeslot), so I was really happy to see so many people dancing and singing along as they played this year; it seems like they’re a band whose fanbase is growing exponentially, which I couldn’t be happier to see. Through their set, the band’s new stuff mixed in seamlessly with the old, culminating with an all-out performance of the incredibly hooky “The Damn Thing is Cursed,” which brought the house down. Everyone in Pretty Bitter is a great performer, but at Faux 8, I found myself particularly drawn to their drummer, who was smashing those things and doing all sorts of stick spins and tricks—rockstar stuff, love to see it. 

Pretty Bitter, Pretty much killin’ it

This brings us to my favorite set of the festival: Fend. I don’t think I’d even heard of Fend heading into Faux, and in all honesty, I had intended to skip their set to catch some fresh air before Summerbruise played. As I started to walk by the side stage, the band’s sound pulled me in like a tractor beam; they were unlike anyone else at Faux. I’ve been listening to their record, Disc, pretty much continuously since I got home, I just can’t get over their vocal melodies. Honestly, I wish I had more specific things to say here, but their set put me into a stupor of sorts; my reaction was visceral in a way I struggle to describe. I guess it was kind of like the first time I had Nerds Gummy Clusters and my brain was firing off in ways it hadn’t in years, the result of elements I’m familiar with being put together in a combination I can’t effectively deconstruct. They just sounded awesome. Listen to this band. 

The last day two act that I want to shout out is Leisure Hour, who closed things out on the festival’s side stage. It feels like Leisure Hour have been touring nonstop lately, and their reps on the road are paying off. The band was already great when I first saw them in Chicago last October, but since then, it seems they’ve leveled up even further. The crowd reaction during their closer “jenny” is probably the most hype I saw people get all night, they absolutely owned the space.
– Josh Ejnes

Smash is still a Faux tradition

Much like my peers, I went into day two with little to no sleep. I also overheated on the way in because my friend and I chose to walk the 20 minutes to Faux from the hotel. This was also one of the few times during any fest that I was willing to miss any of the sets, as I was down the road from Howard’s with many Faux attendees for the No King’s Day protest. It was powerful to be there with friends and band members as we all chanted and felt the spirit of protest. It was beautiful, as many Bowling Green locals were out and the streets were lined. I am certain that, of all the things that happened during the weekend, this had to be the most important.

Upon arriving at the festival, I chose to spend my day wandering around and taking time to meet people while passively viewing most of the sets. You kind of hit this realization that you are surrounded by people you won’t see for at least a year, and all you want to do is bask in that community. I took the time to meet the people I was terrified of, such as Mel Bleker from Pretty Bitter, with whom I have developed a friendship over the years on Twitter due to the nature of us both being poets. It led to a beautiful and surreal moment where we were both able to complement each other’s writing and connect as humans. I also got to go with my friend, who had never seen Summerbruise, over to their merch table and talk to Mike, who called me the “Michael Jordan of attending Summerbruise shows.” Being in moshpits and always having a group conversation to walk into is exactly what Faux is about. 

Keep for Cheap

There were many sets from Day Two that I loved, and the first I wanted to touch on is Echo. This is a fascinating band as it is essentially just Summebruise flipped around with the drummer, Stanli, taking over vocals and leading the band. They began with a magical cover of “Shooting Stars” by B.o.B. This stood out to me because I had spent the time walking into the fest joking about the concept of a band playing this song on Twitter. The rest of the set was filled with some fun-filled, ass-throwing emo music that had the kids moving early in the morning, as it was many of the protest group’s first set. 

Another one of the sets I wanted to highlight is Tiny Voices. This set was always going to be different as their vocalist was unable to make the fest, and Luke Ferkovich (Kule, Endswell) was filling in on the mic. The crowd for this set was absolutely raucous and filled the main stage room. I was right at the front, and early on, I got forced onto the stage from the crowd pushing forward, and not once was I able to get off. It is a testament to this band that even without their vocalist, they were able to put on one hell of a show. Half of the vocals were provided by the crowd, as a beautiful cacophony of mic grabs took place repeatedly throughout the entire set. At one point, Luke even went into the crowd and got the whole room moving. It was the kind of set that jumpstarts a band’s momentum, à la Combat at Faux 7.

Jesus was in attendance

The pinnacle of the day for me was getting to see Summerbruise for the 12th time. They are a truly special Indiana band and one of the few things I feel pride for in my home state. This was a strong four-piece Summerbruise lineup, which couldn’t be a full-band set as Mitch Gulish was at Warped Tour playing with saturdays at your place. Summerbruise played all of the hits, and the first moment that stuck out was during “Dead Daddog 20/20” when the entire crowd overpowered vocalist Mike Newman, who broke down into tears on stage. It was a beautiful moment that was well-deserved by a band that has been a mainstay in the Faux lineup over the years. Outside of Equipment, Summerbruise is the Faux band. This group inspires community and supports each other in a way that not many others do. 

Summerbruise was also able to debut their recently released track “Never Bothered,” which really took off at the bridge as around six different band members rushed on stage to grab the mic for backup vocals through the end of the song. The set concluded as many Summerbruise sets do, with Mike introducing “Bury Me at Penn Station” as a song for the community and the people who make these shows worth it (despite it being about his wife). However, this performance was a little different, as Frederick Loeb of Dear Maryanne came onto stage to play guitar, allowing Mike to spend the end of the set in the crowd, connecting with people in a way he usually can’t due to his dual role as a guitarist and singer. Beautiful set from a fantastic band.
– Ben Parker

Summerbruise


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Caro’s Warped Tour Report: Day 2

Hi Taylor, Josh, and Ben! I respawned in Parking Lot 6 and am once again live from the Bam Margera Look-Alike Convention. The Hot Topic Conference on Reviving Wallet Chains. The Consortium of People Who Loved Illegally Drinking the Original Four Loko. Vans Warped Tour Day 2. And I am here to see motherfucking Carpool. This bit was sponsored by Ghost Energy. #DRINKGHOST

Warped Tour has an infamous no crowdsurfing rule. Obviously, it’s a joke rule that was historically ignored, but that didn’t stop Kevin Lyman and Co. from putting up the old “you mosh, you crowd surf, you get hurt, we get sued, no more Warped Tour" signs. What they didn’t have a sign against was bands jumping into the crowd. Enter Carpool.

Carpool - Photo by Alec Pugliese

Carpool ripped through heaters like “Come Thru Cool,” “I Hate Music,” and “Thom Yorke New City” (thank you again for playing that), but everything came to a boiling point for “The Salty Song” when Stoph Colasanto jumped the barricade to join the crowd, turning the pit into a party. It has long been the belief of this site that Carpool fucking rocks, but this was the pinnacle so far. The only way for Rochester’s rowdiest crew to go is up. (And if you haven’t checked out Pretty Rude’s new album — fix that.)

Now, Taylor, Josh, and Ben, I don’t think anyone I’ve ever bought old band merch off of has ever performed on a festival main stage, but then Eric Egan walked onto the Ghost stage, so I guess I can cross that one off. I know a lot of y’all have watched Heart Attack Man’s rise and might have even caught them at Faux last year, but did you know they also played in 2018 pre-Fake Blood? It’s all pretty cool and even cooler to see a lot of people came to Warped explicitly for Heart Attack Man. 

God bless the state of Oklahoma. That’s all I can think when Cliffdiver starts up. I’ve seen them a lot over the years, but every time I catch them, I can’t help but get completely lost in their positivity and zest for life, despite it all. Like a couple of bands this weekend, Cliffdiver discussed how monumental it felt to be performing at Warped, and it genuinely did feel like an event. After all, how could you not feel important and joyous when Cliffdiver is playing “goin’ for the garbage plate”?

Cliffdiver - Photo by Caitlyn McGonigal

Between Bri Wright’s stage banter and Joey Duffy’s FUCK ICE shirt, Cliffdiver spent a lot of time addressing the political state of things. If you missed the news, Trump held a military parade for his birthday in the city, flooding D.C. with violent dipshits and that tension made its way over to the Festival Grounds of RFK Stadium. All weekend, artists addressed the state of everything: The Wonder Years spoke about trans youth, ICE, and Palestine while Dan Campbell wore a FREE GAZA shirt, Big Ass Truck gave a speech about what they hate, Meredith Hurley from Millionaires wore a Protect Trans Folks shirt, and Buddy Nielsen from Senses Fail addressed the history of sexual assault this festival festered and used his time to advocate for Palestine. This doesn’t even include all the other artists, such as Origami Angel, Scene Queen, Pennywise, Motion City Soundtrack, The Suicide Machines, Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, Magnolia Park, Combat, sace6, and Fever333, and MORE who also dedicated time in their sets to using their voices to advocate for change. This also isn’t even including all of the political conversation happening in the crowds, which largely expressed similar sentiments to these bands and responded with support. 

The MVPs of the whole weekend are easily Leisure Hour, who played Fauxchella Saturday night and dipped down to D.C. to play the Smartpunk tent on Sunday evening. Not to mention that their load-in at Warped Tour was literally through the crowd since they weren’t playing a formal stage. Rock and fucking roll. And I concur with Josh, go listen to “jenny.”

Rain had threatened the entire weekend, and the storm was finally unleashed as Kerosene Heights was taking the stage after their drive from Bowling Green. That didn’t stop anyone from partying; in fact, it got everyone even more excited. I was stopped several times through the set by people passing by to ask who they were, all to which I replied, yelling, “KEROSENE HEIGHTS FROM ASHEVILLE.” It was just so fun. It’s kind of what this is all about, you know?

Kerosene Heights - Photo by Alec Pugliese

My final thoughts? I think there’s a temptation to get into an us (very cool music listeners) vs them (nostalgia-obsessed poser) mentality. Because yes, the whole Elder Emo thing is grating, but this was also the first music thing I’ve been to where someone was wearing a Pg. 99 shirt — which is objectively some of the most authentically Elder Emo you can get. My point is that on the ground, it didn’t matter; we were all already there, so there was nothing left to do but have fun. I’m immensely proud of all the new bands that got spots to play the festival and I would be lying if I said I didn’t love seeing the old shit too. I literally almost waited in line to meet Levi Benton from Miss May I.
– Caro Alt


Taylor’s Portraits

Grabbing portraits of bands was something I wanted to do at Liberation Weekend, but I never quite worked up the courage to commit to fully. Because I knew the bands and the space better at Faux, I was much less shy about asking band members for a quick picture whenever the opportunity presented itself. Most of the time, I was operating on a simple “one and done” philosophy, snapping one pic and saying “cute” or “sick” and thanking the band. I’m incredibly proud of how some of these came out, and I hope I can continue to take many more pictures of band members in this capacity.

If you haven’t seen it, we've just launched a Photography wing of this website, featuring photo recaps of concerts. I plan on doing a Faux 8 photo recap at a later date, so more of these to come.


Faux 8: Honorary Day 3

While Faux 8 was only a two-day fest, a daytime Sunday show at The Swarmyard, a local BG DIY institution, acted as an unofficial continuation of the festivities. The lineup consisted of Decatur, Illinois folk rocker Marble Teeth (who we profiled earlier this year) and Equipment. When I showed up at The Swarmyard a little before doors, a group was forming across the street already a few dozen strong. By the time they started letting people in, it was clear the basement would not fit everyone comfortably or safely. Instead, everyone poured back out into the street and assembled at the front of the house for two front porch acoustic sets. 

Marble Teeth beguiled with his talky acousti-folk setup, playing guitar, harmonica, and CRT TV. At the beginning of each track, Caleb Jefson would select a song off a custom-made DVD menu, which would provide the beat as he sang and played guitar. He wove through songs off his early LPs Cars and Park, 2023’s top 10 times i’ve cried, as well as some new material that Jefson teased as part of an EP coming out on July 4th. 

Marble Teeth

After Marble Teeth’s set, Nick Zander took the mantle of the front porch for an all-request Equipment set. Occasionally joined by Penny and Ellie, the group rocked through a one-of-a-kind three-hour set, playing everything from embarrassing cuts off their 2015 demo to the then-just-a-few-days-old “espresso lemonade.” It was a staggering thing to take in deep cuts from every era of this band as Zander shredded and sang with Springsteen-like endurance. The crowd sang along whenever words were forgotten, and Zander was more than happy to provide the crowd with fun backstory and lore about nearly every track. 

The afternoon set was a beautiful and unique experience that will sadly act as the last from the Swarmyard, as the venue was forced to shut down following this show. Much like the AEG C&D, this feels like an overreaction and overreach; the last drops of life being squeezed out of a passionate group of people putting on shows purely out of love. That said, if I know anything about Jacob and Beautiful Rat Records, it’s that this energy will not go away, merely be diverted to other projects. Plus, if there’s any way to close up your house venue, it’s hard to beat a massive, mega four-hour show headlined by hometown heroes like Equipment.
– Taylor Grimes

Equipment


Some Closing Thoughts

Six years ago, I attended my first Fauxchella because a few bands I liked were performing. I figured it was worth the 90-minute drive down from Detroit to see Origami Angel, Stars Hollow, and Charmer. It turns out that “worth it” doesn’t even begin to capture the experience. I came away from Fauxchella III more inspired and enthused about music than I’d ever been in my life. As I sat eating Rally’s on the hood of my car after the gig, I found myself in absolute awe at the type of communal experience that was possible outside the confines of a traditional music festival experience. To me, this realization goes part and parcel with my Pacific Northwestern ass experiencing authentic Midwest DIY culture for the first time, amazed that people could throw shows out of their living room or basement, not to mention the ability to support and interact with bands directly, as opposed to strictly over a merch table (if at all). 

After attending Fauxchella III, I came back to Bowling Green for DIY Prom, then (on two separate occasions) made a 12-hour drive up from North Carolina just for Fauxchella. It wasn’t lost on me how silly it was to travel so far and take time off work for a festival happening in a college town outside of Toledo, but the lineups were too specific and too tailored to my tastes. It was like someone took my last.fm charts and turned them into a festival lineup. How could I miss that?

This year at Faux 8, I spoke with a couple who had traveled up from Mexico specifically for this festival. I was pretty amazed and said, “You guys probably traveled further than anyone here.” These were words I wound up eating mere hours later when I was talking to another group who had traveled from Alaska for Faux 8. 

On the second day of the festival, I found myself out back chatting with members of Keep For Cheap and Fend when Autumn Vagle said, “Minnesota needs something like this,” referring to Fauxchella’s tight-knit sense of community and impressive artistic draw. Similarly, at one point in the night, I was catching up with Jael Holzman, frontwoman of Ekko Astral and one of the people who spearheaded Liberation Weekend. She cited Fauxchella directly as an inspiration for how a festival like this can and should run, saying that watching Faux over the years was proof of concept that they could do something similar in DC. The result of that inspiration was an incredible festival that raised nearly $40k for the trans rights advocacy collective Gender Liberation Movement. That’s inspiration in action.

With next year’s venue still an unknown, any future Faux will look undeniably different. There will be no more Fauxchella as we’ve known it, but hopefully, there will be Fauxchellas sprouting up everywhere as people take this energy and inspiration back to their home scenes. Fauxchella itself isn’t special. It’s not the venue, the lineup, or even the people running it; what makes Fauxchella special is the community. It’s all these people coming together for two days of music and friendship and $3 beers. What makes Fauxchella special is you.

It feels poetic that Conor Alan, the person organizing most everything related to Fauxchella and the Summit Shack, had a baby on the literal day before Faux 8. As Conor steps into the role of father, it feels as if his other baby is now finally old enough to go off and live on its own. The format of this festival is something that can (and should) be replicated in every music scene across the country. And hey, maybe the first version is just a bunch of local bands and comedians performing in a garage, but keep at it, and who knows how big it could become? Who knows how many people will travel from other states and countries to be a part of your scene? What I do know is that you won’t find out until you start.

Fauxchella, as it has existed for the last near-decade, is gone, but in its place will come another Fauxchella in a different place run by the same people. Then another Faux-like festival with a different name, run by a completely different group of people. Then maybe even one in your hometown. Faux is more than just a music festival; it’s an idea, and ideas can be replicated, shared, and built upon. This is yours now. 

Fauxchella Forever ∞

Community, Solidarity, and Good Fucking Music: Liberation Weekend Recap

All photos by Taylor Grimes

Any music festival that starts with a wall of death and a band smashing a guitar is cool as fuck in my book. Any festival where the lineup is comprised of mostly trans and queer musicians is powerful and inspiring. Any festival where the proceeds are going to a good cause and the event revolves around more than just getting shit-faced with your friends while loud music plays… well, that’s about as radical an act you can take part in as a music fan. 

Liberation Weekend is a brand new music festival in Washington, D.C., billed as “two days of music and arts for trans liberty.” The festival was organized by punk band Ekko Astral and trans rights advocacy collective Gender Liberation Movement. The festival began as a kernel of an idea that frontwoman Jael Holzman had in the wake of last year’s election and materialized as a sort of Pitchfork Fest for trans rights, with all proceeds going to the Gender Liberation Movement. Featuring a knockout lineup of Certified Swim Favorites™ like Home Is Where, Greg Freeman, Bartees Strange, and Pop Music Fever Dream, the fest took place across two days on Friday, May 30th and Saturday, May 31st at famed D.C. venue Black Cat with afters at the tri-level DC9 Nightclub. 

Long story short, Liberation Weekend was two days of incredible music, infectious energy, and communal support. I was on-site (alongside esteemed member of the Swim Team, Caro Alt) from start to finish, taking in a collective 20 hours of music, 22 different sets, and an infinite number of fits, smiling faces, and jumbo slices. We captured at least a little bit of every set on Instagram, preserved forever as a Highlight for your viewing pleasure, but also nabbed some pics on our trusty digi cam. Read on to see what the inaugural version of the festival was like.


Day 0: Solid State Books presents Niko Stratis' "The Dad Rock That Made Me A Woman"

On Thursday, May 29th, before a single note of music was played, Black Cat hosted a reading and Q&A with Niko Stratis that served something of an unofficial kickoff to Liberation Weekend. Stratis’ recently released book, The Dad Rock That Made Me A Woman, is one of my favorites that I’ve read in a long while and felt so immediately revelatory that a handful of the Swim Team writers decided to start a book club just so we could all talk about it. 

An absolute masterwork in music writing, the book is a memoir-in-essays on transness, labor, music, and self-realization. Each chapter of the book is centered around a specific “dad rock” song, with Niko using songs by Wilco, The Replacements, Sheryl Crow, and more as jumping-off points to discuss transitioning and her eventual journey to sobriety. Throughout the book, I found myself awestruck by how well Stratis jumps back and forth between more traditional music writing and vivid personal stories, often dovetailing the two with an energy that enraptured and inspired me.

After Niko read a bit from her essay about The Wallflowers’ “One Headlight,” she and emcee Rax King (a D.C. local) played a round of “Dad Rock or Not,” which is precisely what it sounds like, as the pair ran through a series of bands for Stratis to determine whether they classify as dad rock or not. This laddered up to a key point within the book outlining the difference between a “father” and a “dad,” with Niko ultimately surmising that “A dad is somebody you remember.”

The night’s discussions also included a tangent on chips and bagels, thoughts on identity through labor, a condemnation of “coolness,” and advice from Niko that “if you’re going to get tattoos, some of them have to be stupid.” Stratis also had some trenchant analogies about how coming out as trans doesn’t fix everything, explaining it as being more like a circuit breaker where nothing’s labeled. On some level, it’s nice to have a fresh start, but you still have to put in the work to figure out what everything does and who you are trying to be. My favorite quote of the night came when Niko was discussing how to discover new music and said, “If you’re ever at a record store and there’s a guy working there who looks too stoned to be alive, ask him what he’s listening to, ‘cause it’s gonna be good.”


Day 1: Emo Music, Smashed Guitars, and a Flood Warning

It’s a muggy Friday in DC, and I arrive at Black Cat an hour before doors to bask in the pre-show calm. The lights are low, and the black and white tile floor is already cast in swirling green laser lights. To the left is a bar hawking a combo of whiskey and Narragansett Lager; to the right is a bank of pinball machines ranging from licensed tables like The Big Lebowski and Johnny Mnemonic to classics like Centaur and The Machine: Bride of Pin-Bot. Also to the right were tables for the Gender Liberation Movement, Transa, and the Trans Music Archive.

Before the day began in earnest, Ekko Astral frontwoman Jael Holzman took the stage to introduce the festival and explain its inception. “Months ago, we had a dream to raise money for trans people instead of against them,” she explained to applause from the already half-full room. Holzman went on to introduce the first band of the first-ever Liberation Weekend…

Pop Music Fever Dream

A brilliantly chaotic no-wave band from Brooklyn, Pop Music Fever Dream kicked off Liberation Weekend with lamentations and bad vibes in the best possible way. Guitarist and lead singer Tim Seeberger wailed into the mic as bassist Carmen Castillo glared into the crowd, the attendees already throwing themselves into each other, an instant reminder that, after all, D.C.’s hardcore scene helped invent slam dancing. The fact that there was moshing for their first song signaled a strong start to the proceedings. At one point, Seeberger unfurled the mic cable and wandered to the back of the room, parting the crowd for a wall of death. “The fight doesn’t stop tonight, but i  in t’s fun to celebrate,” they explained in between songs. After 30 minutes of primal howls crawling around the stage, PMFD ended the set by smashing a guitar, with shards of the sunburst Jaguar flying into the rapt audience. Helluva way to start things off.  Read Lillian Webber’s interview with Pop Music Fever Dream here

Greg Freeman 

Next up was Greg Freeman, a Vermont-based alt-country indie rocker whose 2022 debut, I Looked Out, has been a staple of my musical diet over the last few years. Freeman was playing a solo set, just him, a guitar, and a harmonica, giving effortless folk hero energy as he played through hits from his first LP as well as his upcoming sophomore effort, Burnover. Earlier that same day, he released “Curtain,” a piano-packed barroom brawler that the audience was lucky enough to see in a raw, stripped-down form. Singing through clenched teeth, songs like “Come and Change My Body” took on a feeling of renewed meaning in a room full of people expressing their gender in a genuine and free way. Read Taylor’s write-up of “Curtains” here

Pretty Bitter

After the no-wave freakout of PMFD and the earnest folk stylings of Greg Freeman, D.C.’s own Pretty Bitter swept to the stage, bringing big dance party energy. Running through older material as well as songs from their upcoming Tiny Engines debut, Pleaser, the five-piece strutted their stuff with confidence and momentum that got the crowd grooving in turn. Frontperson Mel Bleker commandeered the mic while Kira Campbell shredded guitar solos and Ekko Astral’s Miri Tyler and Liam Hughes held down the bass and synth, respectively. Behind them, drummer Jason Haze battered his kit, twirled his sticks, and stood up to hammer his loudest solos. To quote my friend Jacqueline Codiga, “The drummer doesn’t have one song where he needs to be doing all that, but I’m glad he is.” The whole set felt like dancing around your room on a random weeknight after finding out your crush likes you back. Luckily, we only have to wait till July to hear the band’s sophomore album. 

The Ophelias 

Not to say the bands before this weren’t getting fits off, but when The Ophelias took the stage in floor-length floral dresses, white platform heels, and long, flowing hair, it was clear a new bar had been set. Reveling in the beauty of their recently released Spring Grove, the Cincy five-piece enraptured the crowd with a set of lush, violin-framed indie rock. Addressing the world at large, then the thrust of the festival, lead vocalist Spencer Peppet laid out, “This shit sucks… but this is cool,” which was met with applause from the ravenous audience. 

Pinkshift

I’ve been lucky enough to catch Pinkshift a couple of times over the last few years, and each time, I swear they get faster, tighter, and even more ferocious than the last. The Baltimore punk band brought immediate anger and urgency to their almost-hometown set, condemning white supremacy before ripping into “ONE NATION,” a song that got the entire front of the room jumping. Leader singer Ashrita Kumar is a force of nature, thrashing across the stage while their voice vaults from heavy growls to soaring high notes. The band and crowd fed off each other’s energy as vicious circle pits seemed to fuel the band’s bone-snapping nu-metal-esque breakdowns. Read Taylor’s write-up on Pinkshift’s breakthrough “i’m gonna tell my therapist on you” here.

Vinyl Raffle + Raquel Willis of Gender Liberation Movement

Before Night One headliners Home Is Where took the stage, Jael and Miri handed out the first batch of raffled vinyl courtesy of Topshelf Records, including the likes of Weatherday, Really From, plus some exclusive test presses. One by one, winners were called up to the stage to collect their wax, then the pair handed the stage over to Raquel Willis of Gender Liberation Movement, who had some choice words to say on the whole affair. “Even if you had a hard day, a hard week, a hard life… bitch you are here.” She went on to explain how apt this pairing is, stating, “It makes perfect sense that this festival centers around punk rock. Music and creation and punk [have] always been ours.” Willis continued with inspiring vamping about how we have to show up for everybody, shouting out the queer freaks and the gender fuckers. She ended on a simple note, stating to the packed crowd, “We deserve liberation forever.”

Home Is Where

In the months leading up to Liberation Weekend, there was one band everyone in D.C. was talking about. Conversations about tickets and lineups circled around one thing — “I mean, Home is Where is headlining.” When the Floridian emo group dropped I Became Birds in 2021, the album was an immediate shock to the system–rickety, electrifying, and invigorating for its entire 19-minute runtime. Two years later, the group followed it up with the even more full-throated the whaler, a tense, loving, and grotesque record about getting used to things getting worse. This year, the group pushed out even further with Hunting Season, a country-fried take on their sound that doubles as a love letter to their home state after members were forced to relocate in the wake of increasingly aggressive anti-trans legislation. Read Wes Cochran’s review of Hunting Season here.

Donning Dylan-like sunglasses and rocking the second harmonica of the night, lead singer Bea MacDonald explained these stakes outright to the packed audience, “Tilley and I had to leave Florida, and we’re homesick.” The group played through high points of their recent LP, including “migration patterns,” “milk & diesel,” and “shenandoah,” all of which were met with a thrashing crowd that emphatically screamed along to every word. I felt second-hand euphoria hearing “Oh, what a strange salvation / bong water transubstantiation” live. In one of the funnier bits of stage patter, Bea introed, “This might be the closest to the Capitol Building that you’re allowed to sing these words” before throwing to “the scientific classification of stingrays.”

Upon completing their set, the crowd was still ravenous for more, spurring a genuine encore from the group that saw Bea and Tilley take the stage, just the two of them, for a stripped-down rendition of “roll tide” off Hunting Season. It was a joyous way to end the first leg of the day, but not the whole day, because there were still afters, so off to DC9 we went.

Interstitial Migration

Situationally, Black Cat sits in the middle of 14th Street, a relic of a different time in D.C.’s music geography that’s now locked in by a couple of fratty bars, a beer garden that doesn’t sell hard ciders, and a Brooklinen. However, up five blocks and through a couple of neighborhoods, DC9 stands in a long line of bars and clubs, catty corner to the historic 9:30 Club and its subsidiary, The Atlantis. Groups of festival-goers walked on the red brick sidewalks from one venue to the next as the sky threatened to open again. Everyone was replaying what happened during Home is Where’s whirlwind set while keeping up a brisk pace to make it to Perennial.
– Caro Alt

Perennial

Because Home Is Where went a little over and it took a while to say goodbye to all our friends at Black Cat, we showed up a few songs into Perennial’s set, but the Connecticut modernist punk trio had already whipped the room into a frenzy. We walked in during the raucous “Up-tight,” which the group blows out into a call-and-response jam, walking into the crowd as vocalists Chelsey and Chad alternate lyrics “in the middle of the night / oh yeah, alright, up-tight.” The trio worked the refrain down to a whisper, and the crowd was more than happy to oblige, chanting along to every word until the group brought the guitars back out and turned things into an all-out punk party. Dressed in matching horizontal striped shirts, Perennial’s set was contagious and pure rock and fuckin’ roll.

ZORA

Introduced as “the transsexual menace,” ZORA took the stage as an indietronica duo with live drums and braggadocious hip-hop bars. After shouting out her hometown of Minneapolis, Minnesota, ZORA led a chant of “Fuck Target” after the company rolled back its DEI initiatives earlier this year and pulled their support for local pride events. Playing plenty of songs off her recent Get Better Records releases Z D A Y and BELLAdonna, ZORA offered a fun palate cleanser to the otherwise rock-heavy aftershow. 

Um, Jennifer?

I was lucky enough to catch Um, Jennifer? a week prior, playing The Mercury Lounge with Eph See and Deadbeat Girl, so I was fortunate in that I knew what to expect. That is to say, a triumphant set of rock music helmed by Eli Scarpati and Fig Regan, who playfully trade deliveries between vibrant shades of indie rock. While Eli brings a buoyant, classic rock approach to his songs, Fig impresses with slightly headier songwriting that at times feels like a mix between Black Country, New Road and under-appreciated defunct Detroit prog-punk band Mover Shaker. Together, the pair is backed by Grayson Ellis (of Twinflame) on drums and Carmen Castillo (of Pop Music Fever Dream) on bass. Together, the four churned out effortlessly charismatic pop-rock bangers to a ravenous 1 am crowd.

With a recently released self-titled full-length behind them, the group rocked through a set of songs that spoke directly to transition and gender dysphoria/euphoria. Highlights included the Blondie-coded “Went On T” and “Old Grimes,” a surfy number with a soaring chorus about listening to Grimes before she did all that other stuff. There were times when Eli was flying across the stage, jumping from the bass drum, shirtless, performing with such zeal that I was reminded of a young Bruce Springsteen. Even the on-album interlude “Jennifer’s Dungeon” took on a cathartic new life when performed live, with the entire crowd finding release in the repeated wail of “I shaved my face for you, baby!” The night ended with “Cut Me Open,” a jumpy rocker that has been one of my favorite songs of the year for two years running. Read Brad Walker’s review of The Girl Class EP here.


Interlude: Merch Booths, Organizing, and Wishlists

By the time we emerged from DC9 a little after 2 in the morning, we were met with an absolute deluge of rain. We checked the weather app to learn that D.C. was experiencing both a flood and a tornado warning, almost as if Mother Nature was just as fired up from the eight hours of music we had just taken in. We ran through the streets and piled into a Lyft back to our digs in Adams Morgan, then proceeded to saty up until 4 am, wired from the day’s events.

This midpoint seems like a good spot to show off some of the beautiful merch and organizations that were tabling the fest. There was a little something for everyone: cool shirts and CDs, smut and stickers, zines, narcan, test strips, and DIY hormone guides, the sense of community stemming from the fest was reflected even in these booths.

While I’m breaking timeline chronology, I’d also like to use this space to discuss my personal wishlist for a potential second iteration of Liberation Weekend. First off, my mind goes to Jeff Rosenstock and PUP, two bands that Ekko is about to tour with this fall that seem like prime headliner suspects for an event like this. I also think Mannequin Pussy and Lambrini Girls would bring a hard-nosed punk edge that the festival seems to bend toward. Because I’m a Portland Boy, I also have to rep Alien Boy, whose loud-ass guitar rock tackles something universal in the queer experience. Just to round things out with some emo music, I think Snowing, Ogbert The Nerd, Swiss Army Wife, or See Through Person could all provide prime mid-day sets that would keep the energy high. Okay, enough daydreaming, back to reality. 


Day 2: Local Legends, TRANSA Showcase, and Ekko Fucking Astral

Miri Tyler

Day two of Liberation Weekend started with Miri Tyler kicking off the Locals set at DC9. You can’t talk about DIY music in D.C. without bringing up Miri Tyler. Not only did she play in three sets across the 22-set weekend (all different instruments, I may add: bass for Pretty Bitter, drums for Ekko Astral, and guitar/vocals for her own set), but outside of the festival, you can find her at practically every gig and show. The first time I saw Tyler wasn’t actually onstage, but opening the mosh pit at a Bacchae show several years back – her love of music and D.C. is infectious, and the crowd she was playing to at 2:30 pm was giving her that love right back.

Sonically, Tyler’s project is jangly and a bit groovy – the song “Land of the Loaded Gun” boasts a phenomenal bassline, held down by Kira Campbell, which acts as the song’s center of gravity, much like a Yo La Tengo song. During the set, the trio played a new song with a fucked-up groove, then transitioned into an older track with more of an emo beat. Tyler wears her heart on her sleeve, and that earnestness is what this festival thrives on.
– Caro Alt

Fun aside. Just a short beat after Miri’s set ended, one of the vendors from the back of DC9 shouted, “If anyone wants gay porn, I have some!” Then amending their proclamation with “Trans porn!” What a beautiful festival. 

Berra

I always find it kind of embarrassing when there’s a local act I haven’t seen three times yet, let alone haven’t seen once, but I had never seen Berra live until this weekend. Under the blue lights of DC9’s corner-set stage, Berra’s Roba Djalleta stood in the spotlight and began her dreamy set. The weekend happened to line up with the release of the band’s latest EP, Lover’s Virginia, which came out the previous Friday, meaning there was a plethora to celebrate. The crowd bounced along to poppier songs like “Guys” and swayed to misty tracks like “For Not You.” Djalleta’s velvety voice and the shiny band oscillated between the emo stylings of the Midwest and bedroom pop contemporaries like Beach Bunny. All together, it was a starry set, and I hope to catch Berra again soon. If any D.C. bookers are reading this, book Berra.
– Caro Alt

Massie

Right as Massie kicked their set off with an Interpol-ass riff, Kira Campbell came over my shoulder and whispered, “This band is about to melt faces,” and damn was she right. You know in cartoons when a band plays so loud that the amps start smoking and the volume dial pops off? That’s Massie. The group is a thrashy power-pop project shared between guitarist Emily Yaremchuk and drummer Sam Collings. Collings’ drums sit at the heartbeat of the band, thumping through Yaremchuk’s feedback and fuzz. Sonically, they lean into a bit of gaze and get a little Gladie. No matter what or where I see them – a library, a basketball game, or at DC9 – they always feel like someone lit a firework and threw it into the air.
– Caro Alt

Pinky Lemon

You can’t help but feel electric when Pinky Lemon performs. About as synonymous with The D.C. DIY Sound as anyone can get, Pinky Lemon normally sprawls across the stage with five members; however, for this set, they opted for a stripped-down version of their synthgaze. The last time I saw Pinky Lemon live, they were participating in a tournament called Mosh Madness, in which local bands soundtracked a series of 3-on-3 basketball games made up of local musicians. Their ominous yet dancy sound reverberated around the auditorium then as it did at DC9. While the setting was incredibly different for Liberation Weekend, the performance was just as in-your-face; they even covered “Love Buzz” with Miri Tyler. This set was definitely Pinky Heaven, not Hell.
– Caro Alt

Faith/Void

Back at Black Cat, I walked into Faith/Void’s set right as the NY rock trio were ripping into a cover of Mclusky’s “Day Of The Deadringers,” which brought me back to life. Their whole set was proper shouty down-and-dirty punk goodness with an undercurrent of jilted Gen X energy. The band’s bio on Instagram reads, “suckin dongs and smokin bongs,” and I’m happy to report that’s the exact kind of energy you can expect from a Faith/Void set. 

Big Girl

After reading Katie’s write-up on Big Girl earlier this year, I thought I knew what to expect from the red-hued indie rockers, but turns out taking in this band’s show firsthand is something else entirely. The set began with all four members putting their hands together, then bandleader Kaitlin Pelkey proceeded to lie on the ground and writhe, slowly coming to life as the rest of the band gradually cranked up a swell of noise. Dressed in red tights and a sheer red top wrapped in a protective suit jacket, Pelkey is the ideal frontperson, equal parts iconic, theatrical, intimidating, and captivating. After shredding for one song as a four-piece, Pelkey shed their guitar and began to strut the stage, vamping, tambourine in hand while promising that select members of the audience were going to get that “biiiiiiig promotion,” lulling us in with the promise of “healthcare” and “everything we ever wanted.” The group proceeded to play through a selection of songs off their recently released DYE EP, and within minutes of their set ending, I was already looking forward to the next time I would be blessed enough to catch Big Girl again. Read Katie Hayes’ profile on Big Girl here.

Ted Leo 

Ted Leo is a staple in D.C. music in the same way that St. Stephens is a staple of D.C. DIY venues, in the way that Smash! Records is a staple in D.C. record shops and the way that Fugazi is a staple in knowing what D.C. post-hardcore is in the first place (come on, it was gonna get mentioned at some point). Last year, Ted Leo (and his Pharmacists) took Ekko Astral on tour to celebrate the 20th anniversary of his anti-war power pop album, Shake the Sheets; now he’s returning to support the Gender Liberation Movement. While he was Pharmacist-less, he still brought the house down with his stripped-down punk songs and blood-hungry bite. If everything went according to plan, this weekend was already set to be historic for D.C. punk music, and Ted Leo’s presence tied the whole thing to the city’s storied lineage.
– Caro Alt

Editor’s Note: At this point, the battery on my camera died, so the rest of these photos are just from my iPhone, sorry.

Downtown Boys

One of the weekend’s most forceful sets, Downtown Boys brought raging punky vocals with a message to Black Cat’s stage. Led by Victoria Ruiz’s compelling, compassionate wail, the group ripped and raged through crowd favorites off Full Communism and Cost of Living, interspersing their set by reading letters from Palestinians and reminding the audience that we need to “do this collectively.” There were crowd-churning two-step drum beats, skank-worthy sax solos, and, in a telling move of solidarity, the mic was pointed into the crowd for the first time all weekend as fans screamed the band’s words right back to them. 

Speedy Ortiz

Kicking their set off with immediate distortion and a heavy-as-shit guitar riff, Massachusetts indie rockers Speedy Ortiz brought their indelible pop-rock tunes to Liberation Weekend in style. If The Ophelias got the superlative for Best Dressed of Day One, Speedy Ortiz had it on lock for the second day. Bandleader Sadie Dupuis was rocking a sparkly rainbow dress with a hem like confetti, singing into a bright pink and blue Fisher-Price-looking mic while playing a green guitar with a tiger-stripe pickguard. Talk about fuckin’ style. At one point, in celebration of Gemini season, Sadie invited Ted Leo and members of Downtown Boys back on stage for a round of tequila shots. To close out their set, the group played “Brace Thee” off their most recent LP, Rabbit Rabbit, and brought the house down as bassist Audrey Zee Whitesides screamed the repeating final line “I’m fine!” sounding anything but. 

After Speedy Ortiz’s set, it was time for the Transa Showcase featuring artists from last year’s staggering TRANS​A compilation. Organized by the music production non-profit Red Hot, the compilation is an eight-part spiritual journey across 46 songs that brings together over 100 artists with a focus on some of the most daring, imaginative, and exciting trans and non-binary musicians working today. 

Bartees Strange

While he’s mostly known for sturdy and eclectic indie rock, Bartees Strange’s solo set found the artist with nothing more than an acoustic guitar and a setlist written on his hand. It was a more solemn affair than the day had been up to this point; it only took a couple of songs for Bartees to transfix the entire room with his killer voice. He played through heaters like “Sober” and “Baltimore” off his recent LP but also dipped back into fan favorites like “Heavy Heart,” “Mustang,” and “Boomer.” With a tasteful amount of reverb on his guitar, the set was an absolute showcase for the breathtaking quality of his voice, even when his songs are stripped of all ornamentation and flashiness. At one point, after discussing how important it is to show up for friends, Strange remarked on the festival, “Jael hit me up about this festival, and I was like ‘yeah if you can do it,’ and look what happens when people come together and try something new.”

Asher White

Asher White was easily one of my biggest surprises of the weekend, a classic case of going in totally blind and coming out an instant fan. Part emo noodling, part indie rock dance party, Asher White is a band that truly contains multitudes. At one point, the group wound from a gentle, finger-plucked slow number to a sludgy stoner rock passage, then into a jumpy pop-punk blast, and finally slowed things down again. There were tight instrumental passages, fun vocals, and some of the best stage banter I’d heard all fest. At one point, White lobbed a softball over home plate, asking the crowd, “Anyone here transgender?” which was met with unanimous applause and cheers. At another point, she explained, “This is my first time in DC, and I think it’s skewed me because I’ve only talked to trans people.” Any band that can have this much fun on stage while rocking this hard is ace in my book. 

L'Rain

After the hometown heroics of Bartees Strange and the rambunctiously high-energy Asher White, L’Rain opted to close the weekend out on a beautiful reflection. For half an hour, L’Rain sat alone onstage, equipped with just a mic and soundboard, and mixed a drone sound using archival samples from the NYC Trans Oral History Project. The set slowed the room down and magnetically pulled people towards the stage to hear the stories over the speakers. The crowd that had been frantically moshing just minutes ago was now sitting quietly, surrounding L’Rain as she crafted a spiral of sounds, dialogue, and looped noises. Some audiences treated the set as a meditation, closing their eyes and opening themselves up to the music on a deeper level. Looking around, some groups were deep in conversation, while others were engrossed in listening or wrapped up in each other's embrace. It was a beautiful scene. 

Occasionally, L’Rain would lift the mic to her mouth just to breathe or hum lightly, adding her own element of live humanity to the soundscape. Even though I was watching most of the set from the side of the stage, it was unclear whether L’Rain was even vocalizing every time she brought the mic to her mouth. At one point, she seemed to raise the mic up and just smiled into it. Again, I couldn’t make out whether she was actively adding something new to the ambient swirl, but maybe capturing that smile in the moment was enough. 

Pure Adult

The floor of the second story of DC9 shakes. While it’s not noticeable for every set, if the crowd starts moving fast enough, the whole room will start to move too. Over the years, I’ve typically felt the shake towards the end of the night in the final thrashes of the crowd as artists play their biggest hits. Pure Adult’s unruly set got the floor swaying in seconds. The room’s pink and blue lights have shifted to a sinister red as the night rapidly turned into a sweaty, jumpy moshfest. Frontman Jeremy Snyder seemed to take infinite glee in this reception, conducting the crowd like a demonic Paul Giamatti – complete with a grey mop of hair, beautiful stache, and a sport jacket – as he gesticulated, fist-pumped, and shouted repetitions into the crowd. Occasionally, he’d pass vocal duty off to keyboardist Bianca Abarca, who would throw the crowd into an even further rage with pit-spurring hardcore vocals. Behind them, the rhythm section was held together with a tribal thrumming, always providing a reliable groove for the group to fall back on. The entire set was hedonistic and hammy, with many beautiful moments where the entire crowd was moving as one, yelping in joy. The stage was set for Ekko Astral. 

Ekko Astral & Friends

On the ground, the topic of Ekko Astral’s set was hotly discussed throughout the weekend. There were rumors about special guests, predictions for the set list, and anecdotes about the last time people had seen the band. The countdown had been on since the moment the festival was announced. 

The final seconds ticked down, and Ekko Astral emerged from the crowd–frontwoman Jael Holzman on bass, Liam Hughes plugging in his guitar, and Miri Tyler settling behind the drums. There was a deep breath, and then the band launched their set into orbit with a cover of SOPHIE’s “JUST LIKE WE NEVER SAID GOODBYE.”

The pandemic is often cited by D.C. locals as a changing point in the city’s rock scene. Bands broke up, venues closed, and people left. When shows started again, there was a kind of rebirth and a longing for closeness. This is where Ekko Astral comes in. For years, Ekko was kind of D.C.’s best-kept secret: a band with a cult following and wild live shows that people always wanted to see again. Following the release of pink balloons last year, D.C.’s music community was finally blown open, with Ekko at the helm. Read Lillian Weber’s review of pink balloons here.

No moment in their set showcases this momentum more than their second song of the night, “TRANSDEMIC, BABY,” off their EP Quartz, which they performed with Sophie Fisher, a local activist. At this point, the crowd was well into hours of slamming into each other, but Jael, aware of the band’s rowdy live shows and even rowdier fanbase (dubbed the Mascara Moshpit), took a moment to remind everyone in the packed room to protect each other and pick people up if they fall. Once the crowd agreed, the band tore into “baethoven” and “uwu type beat,” with the audience singing the entire first verse of baethoven.

While the rock music is cool, support for others was the true theme of the set — a celebration of the profound love for their community that Ekko Astral feels. This is where the fun really begins: the special guest-packed “Oops! All Covers” set. With each song, Jael announced a new guest, shared a story about how they contributed to the festival, and dove into perfect covers of beloved songs, both new and old. Maggie from Tetchy and Em Rainey joined the stage for a room-leveling rendition of Mannequin Pussy’s “Loud Bark.” Tilley Kormony from Home is Where jumped on the guitar for Hanny Ramadan from Latchkey Kids’ roaring covers of “Dancing In The Dark” and “Constant Headache.” After a long “Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo” chant from the crowd, fest organizer Jo Morgan hopped on stage for a version of “Helter Skelter,” complete with Miri yelling, “I GOT BLISTERS ON MY FINGERS!” And finally, Ted Leo and Roba Djalleta reappeared for a hypnotic cover of “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac.

From there, Ekko debuted a couple of goosebump-inducing new songs, along with a rousing version of “On Brand” featuring Kait from Big Girl and a fittingly vitriolic chant of “FUCK ELON MUSK. They brought the temperature back down with a cover of Yeah Yeah Yeah’s “Maps,” then Mel from Pretty Bitter tagged in for a joyous version of Metric’s “Combat Baby.”

As if all this wasn’t enough, the set also included a surprise appearance from Bad Moves, who were introduced as “The Beatles of D.C.” Members David Combs and Katie Park joined Ekko onstage for “Hallelujah,” which the band introduced as a song about “how the state has no place policing gender identity.” They followed up with “Cool Generator,” and man, if you haven’t heard a crowd sing along to “Cool Generator,” you’re missing out. And I mean missing out. Bad Moves is ending this summer.

The night and festival ended in a fittingly cataclysmic way, with “i90,” the seismic slow-burn closer from pink balloons. The group leaned into the riff, cranking the distortion and playing it sludgy as fuck, all climaxing with a molten guitar solo from Liam. The set ended with Liam, Mel, Jo, and Miri arm-in-arm as Jael sang the song’s final lines, surrounded by friends and smiling. Joy. 

Liberation Forever

When all was said and done, the first-ever Liberation Weekend left me astonished, inspired, hopeful, and energized. On a practical level, I was amazed by how efficiently everything ran, both at Black Cat and with two venues at play. On a more existential level, it felt affirming to be in such a supportive space where people were free to be their authentic selves and make it crystal-fucking-clear what they stand for. This support manifested in everything from pit etiquette and resources at the merch tables to explicit calls for trans liberation in the face of a government that is actively working against the existence of the people filling this venue and standing on its stage. To that end, the band has since announced that Liberation Weekend raised over $30,000 (and counting), proving that all of this energy and effort and organization was more than worth it.

Even as I walked around Black Cat, taking notes and snapping pictures, the energy in the room was palpable. Everyone was happy to be there, surrounded by community and taking in art made by people that reflected something about their own humanity. As an outsider to the D.C. scene, I felt welcomed, as if some of the transitive power of this event had rubbed off on me, and I know I’m not alone. I spoke with at least a few crowd members who remarked that they were excited to go home and make music, work on film or art projects, and troll Facebook Marketplace for a used pedal steel guitar. Part of that is just what it feels like to attend a good music festival, but also a testament to the type of space that Liberation Weekend cultivated. 

At one point, I found myself talking to Nikolai Mather, a DJ, reporter, and man-about-town who had driven up from North Carolina with another friend just for the festival. One of the first things he remarked to me was, “I’d never seen an all-trans pit before.” I remembered observing a similar thing early on in Day One as I sat perched off to the side, sipping my beer, jotting notes, and taking in the crowd as everyone wrapped themselves up in Pop Music Fever Dream’s performance. The crowd of mostly trans and queer people was unlike any music festival I’ve ever been a part of, and that’s what makes Liberation Weekend so fucking cool. This was a fest by trans and queer people for trans and queer people in support of trans and queer people. It’s a reminder that there are more of us than them and that community is salvation.

In that same conversation with Nikolai, he casually dropped this gem when talking about trans people creating art, “It’s always been the heart of who we are. Art is the thing that allows us to create ourselves. You have to create something to prove them wrong.” I’ll be damned if I couldn’t say it better than that.