Photo by Ebru Yildiz
Perfect Pussy singer Meredith Graves performed at this past weekend's Basilica Soundscape Festival, presented in association with Pitchfork. She read an essay that discusses Andrew W.K., Lana Del Rey, sexism, and the notion of authenticity as it relates to male and female performers. The piece has been republished in full at The Talkhouse.
Graves talked about the unfair burden of proof placed on women to show that they're authentic fans of culture:
Women are called upon every day to prove our right to participate in music on the basis of our authenticity — or perceived lack thereof. Our credentials are constantly being checked — you say you like a band you’ve only heard a couple of times? Prepare to answer which guitarist played on a specific record and what year he left the band. But don’t admit you haven’t heard them, either, because they’ll accuse you of only saying you like that genre to look cool. Then they’ll ask you if you’ve ever heard of about five more bands, just to prove that you really know nothing. This happens so often that it feels like dudes meet in secret to work on a regimented series of tests they can use to determine whether or not we deserve to be here.
She discussed seeing Andrew W.K. in an airport and being surprised by his unmaintained appearance:
I feel weird about eating these days or leaving the house, or existing in a material form at all, because having a body that talks too much and sweats and makes mistakes is exhausting, and here’s this dude just standing around with dented hair and a Napalm Death shirt over sweatpants shorts and it’s almost as if the whole world isn’t scrutinizing what’s in his cart at the grocery store, what he looks like without makeup on, how his gender affects his authenticity as a performer. I was looking straight at this spaced out, sweet-faced, charming guy, just standing there, calm and existing.
She then contrasted the praise W.K. receives with the criticism Lana Del Rey gets for being "inauthentic":
After a month of thinking about the bizarre truth inherent here — that real women with fake names are somehow considered exponentially less authentic than completely fake men harboring a real, hidden sadness — I’ve come to one conclusion; that the cult of personality surrounding artists exists because of an unfeeling world that loves nothing more than breaking sensitive, talented people. The oppressive systems that surround us have forced us to assume personas like castles have moats — they can’t protect you forever but they might work for a little while to keep the bad guys from coming in. That’s not safe or good for human hearts, regardless of their respective privileges in regard to class or gender.
Read the whole thing here.
Watch Perfect Pussy perform "I" at Pitchfork Music Festival:
via Jeremy Gordon
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