The Snake

I watched Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez speak yesterday, about a fellow congressperson verbally abusing her on the steps of the House of Representatives. She is a goddamn force, and such a breath of fresh air in those stale and compromised halls. I’ve had to argue with some family members (not immediate; my crew is tight!) when they have posted misogynist things online, or say, blithely equated Elizabeth Warren with Charles Manson. I grew up being in situations where grown men have said incredibly offensive things to me with an elbow and a wink, as if I would wink back and tell them that we had kindred rot within. Regardless of my shock and confusion, I still found that I had to unlearn some things. It feels bad to think that I could have been a better ally to women in my life; that my friends growing up had to deal with the kind of language that AOC referred to in this passionate delivery to her colleagues. I honestly can say that while I was always looking for a strong, intelligent woman, I still would sit and gawk with friends, trying to fit anyone that I saw into an impossible cinematic narrative; I was rarely the lead actor even in my own fantasies, but the geeky sidekick who possibly gets the girl. Still, I thought of women as disposable, in a very real sense; if this didn’t work out, not to worry, the world was an endless sea of fish, of which I had complete access. Think about that. The word ‘disposable’ has such a violent connotation; ‘access’ also is totally gross. I wish I could go back and slap that kid around and tell him to do better, try harder, and that he had a responsibility to protect and champion the women around him. My wife and bandmates have taught me a lot about Feminism, and it’s weird to think that anyone else in the world could continue to move along not recognizing the intersectionality of the Movement for Black Lives and every person striving for human rights. The right wing folks want you to think that this is a political thing; they want white Americans to feel like protests are against the values of “average Americans”. Firstly, they are right in one way; all of these movements seek to subvert, restructure, or even destroy the status quo, however, they do leave out the most important part: America was built for the rich, under the guise of “Freedom for All”. There has never been a time where America was for everyone; Europeans came here and literally gutted men, women, and children by the millions to make room for themselves in a pristine land free from regulation or law. They continued that violence through iteration after iteration of dominion, and anytime someone stands up to say there has to be a better way to live, those folks are discredited, disenfranchised, or murdered. I’m feeling a little redundant here, because I know I’ve mentioned this stuff before. I’m sorry if it makes you feel bad, but wouldn’t you rather live in a country where every single person had the same human rights and access to education, health care, food, shelter, and dignity? Some would say, hey you have to work for it; or “I worked for it, so why should someone else get it for free?” To that I say, you’ve been eating this manure for too long. Allow yourself a moment to dream of a place where folks are happy and healthy instead of locked into an endless cycle of dread, sickness, and barely scraping by. Why is there always money for police and war, but never money for helping our own people? 

Andy Kivela is a fantastic listener with an acerbic wit. I’ve known him since high school, playing in bands and smoking Nat Shermans at Sunset Rock; he has consistently been responsible for introducing me to the freshest of jams. We saw Tool and the Melvins in Fitchburg in 95 (?), and then Peter Broetzmann & Han Bennink years later (incidentally, Kiv just acquired the kit that Bennink played at that show). One day, probably around the time of that latter show, he gave me a disc that simply said ‘Wildbirds and Peacedrums’. I figured it was probably some more out jazz, as that is a thing we have bonded over for years. It started with this rumbling of percussion and then a voice, throaty and pushing, moaning and expressive, then the words:

There is no light / there is no light / my eyelids ache / from too much darkness

I was knocked out. The band is a Swedish duo, Mariam Wallentin & Andreas Werliin, and went out of my way to get everything that they had recorded. I went and saw them at TT the Bear’s in Cambridge during a wild green-skied stormy night, lightning striking down throughout the city. The turnout was low but the band’s energy was insane; they both drum and Mariam sings, incorporating other instruments while continuing the percussion and vocals. When I heard AOC speak, this album came to mind; this woman pummeling and powerful, fully realized and in control. Everyone should have access to this kind of agency, this kind of conduction. What would happen if all of our sisters and brothers in this country could pound out and broadcast their feelings in a way that, regardless of aesthetics, made them feel heard and connected? 

I said earlier that I needed to unlearn some things as I grew up (and let’s be frank, even now). I was struck by the idea that the murdering force of settlers who came to this country, fleeing persecution, looking for a place to be ‘free’, landed here and immediately began visiting the same subjugation upon the aboriginal folks who they encountered. I mean, of course plenty of the colonial atrocities were done in the name of kingdoms or countries or even ‘God’, but it’s wild to note that there didn’t seem to be much hesitation to just supplant the terrorizers anew. This disconnect sees the desire for freedom leading generations of people to withhold it from others. That a man would get into a fistfight over someone disrespecting a female family member, but fail to show that woman the same respect afforded to other men; other men who are given the benefit of the doubt, when a woman is slut-shamed or vilified. It is our responsibility as enlightened individuals to lay bare these patriarchal traditions, and our responsibility as men to refuse them. This will take a little time and some humility, but think of it like this if you’re not with me: the entire history of the world is a dude calling your sister something rude, and the way to punch that in the face is to stand up and reject the rotten crown that you were born with. Our friends, wives, sisters, mothers, all want to see men acknowledge that there is an imbalance, still, after so many years. This is what folks want from the police as well; just say that you understand that the power dynamic is a problem, and show us that you want it to be fixed. All of these intersectional struggles line up in this way. There can be no real change without the people benefitting from having the power (perceived or actual) acknowledging it, and working to help redistribute that power and make things equitable. There will be people who balk at this idea, decrying it as ‘pc’ (which incidentally just means respecting everyone); they’ll whine that they “can’t say anything anymore”, and to that I say, imagine how you would feel if you had to experience half of what a woman (for example) has to deal with day to day. Those very folks would be on the front lines.

So, this album popped into my head watching AOC literally slay the entire House of Representatives. Mariam Walentin drumming, leading, and yawping with both grace and power, instilling listeners with a sense of tenderness and wonder. The last song on The Snake is called “My Heart”, and it is what my wife and I walked down the aisle to after we were married. I want to thank Kiv for this gift, and his bandmate Ry Amidon for driving us home after we realized we had no way to get there once everyone left the wedding. He was an old fashioned cabby, and we sat in the back of his sedan, listening to Dylan in the early winter. This final piece on the album contains such a fierce and ardent crescendo, starting with “My heart / slow down”, and cranking up to “Don’t run / you see I’m lost without your rhythm”. That is helpful advice, and something that I’ve taken as a mantra; you want to look to the people around you, listen hard and truly. Stand up against police violence, misogyny, racism, and fight for queer and trans rights as well. You can’t be against one and not all of the others. Not everyone can be out in the streets, but we can stand up and speak up when we see one of the infinite microaggressions, or hear someone disrespecting another human being. We all have the same heart, and it’s time to start acting like it.

Wildbirds and Peacedrums - The Snake

Saturday August 1st 2020, 7pm

Just put it on at your house using a stereo or the internet or whatever you want.

Eric Gagne

Nova Arts