I grew up in the greatest city in the world in a fortunate-but-modest family. The opportunies I was given on a daily basis throughout high school and college were not priceless – they came via both money and circumstance – and I was, and am still, so lucky to have experienced them. But sometimes the luckiest opportunities aren’t enough, even if you want them to be. Growing up was hard for me. I suffered from (and hid) depression while also battling self-consciousness over my weight and, ultimately, anorexia which stemmed from that. Middle school and most of the first three years of high school were incredibly trying for me. And then something changed. PropertyOfZack, like what feels to be a lot of my life, stumbled into existence.
When PropertyOfZack started in 2009, one scene chapter was coming to an end and another was beginning. It was after Fueled By Ramen’s heyday, but before the emergence of labels that would soon become incredibly strong tastemakers, albeit on a much smaller level – Run For Cover, No Sleep, Topshelf Records. The smallest bands on those labels six years ago are now living in different homes, with a much bigger audience than when they started – and I can’t help but feel the same.
That shift in music from macro to micro seemed immediate in many ways. The shift our music scene is going through today, however, is a slow burn. Just like bankruptcy, change in this scene will come slowly, then all at once. We’re facing issues of sexism, homophobia, abuse and more every single month, just like the larger world around us is. I can promise you that many in the music industry would love nothing more than to see those issues swept under the rug: no one wants to be publically outed as an individual who puts business over humanity, but nobody wants to fuck with the status quo either. I have bad news for those people – the last eight months have made it more clear than ever that nothing is permanent. We’re no longer affording patience to those who refuse to grasp that. There will always be steps taken both backwards and forwards. But there is a right and a wrong side of history to be on, and I hope we all choose what’s right.
Ultimately, for the first time in six years, it feels right to step away from PropertyOfZack and the identity it has created for me. From working in the junior/senior locker room in high school, to asking for my laptop while leveled in a hospital bed, to seeing Modern Baseball sell out a hometown Philadelphia show: this has been my life. And I’m so happy that this is only the beginning.
There is no courage without risk.
And it’s time I take one.
Thank you[1] all, for everything.
Zack Zarrillo
TeamPOZ, Jesse Richman, Adrienne Fisher, Connor Sheehan, Erik van Rheenen, Ashley Aron, Emily Coch, Michael Meeze, Hobbes, Jesse Cannon, Evan Lucy, Thomas Nassiff, Jason Tate, Jason Parent, Lisa Garelick, Big Picture Media, Another Reybee Production, Earshot Media, Brixton Agency, Riot Fest, The Studio at Webster Hall, Rise Records, Run For Cover Records, Topshelf Records, Pure Noise Records, Triple Crown Records, Fearless Records, Hopeless Records, Man Overboard, Modern Baseball, The Wonder Years, Transit, Knuckle Puck, Mansions, Real Friends, The Swellers, Kevin Devine. ↩
I never planned to be here. I hadn’t written anything in any “official” capacity since my days at my college paper, and that was nearly a decade in the rearview when I was convinced to sign on here. Sure, I still dabbled -- a couple of LiveJournals here and there; a tumblr for personal-oriented music writing (that’s still around and will have some new life injected into it soon). But when a blink 182-loving internet friend named Zack (RIP ASchismOfZack.tumblr.com!), who had just started turning his little music blog into a slightly less little music blog, asked me back in 2010 if I would chip in with some reviews, I thought it would make for a fun exercise and a nice distraction from the salt mines that are New York legal document review projects -- and nothing more.
(My first review? A Circa Survive Daytrotter session. Why in hell was I reviewing a Circa Survive Daytrotter session? Reading it now, it isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, which maybe means I haven’t come as far as I think I have.)
Somehow, five years and something like 350 reviews, interviews, profiles, features and op-eds later (not to mention lord-only-knows-how-many editing jobs), I’m still here. I’ve stretched my writing muscles, put myself through a training regimen and discovered that this is something I want to make part of my professional life, long after I’d left any such pretensions behind. I’ve become a regular contributor at Alternative Press. I’ve gotten to chat professionally and personally with the people whose music has meant so much to me. I’ve flown to Austin for SXSW (4 times!), to Chicago for Riot Fest. I’ve sat in a 3-hour traffic jam only to get drenched in the most miserable rain you can imagine -- with some of the best people you can imagine -- at Skate & Surf. I’ve spent Christmas Day each year banging out cheeky holiday “reviews,” to this day still my favorite regular feature we’ve had, and one I was happy to sheppard. I’ve built bridges to places and people I never knew existed, and burned a few that needed burning. I’ve made lifelong friends in Zack and Connor and Ashley and Erik, and in so many of our former staffers, not to mention all the friends I’ve made in the wider punk community via this little website. I’ve sparked new friendships from old acquaintances (suppy, Adrienne!). I’ve found a community -- multiple communities, really -- that don’t have me questioning whether I belong. And hopefully, somewhere along the way, I’ve written something that touched someone, that made them open their eyes to something they didn’t see before, be it out in the world or within themselves.
I’ve also shuffled jobs; met an incredible woman who, to my continual daily amazement, agreed to marry me; and, in the coming months, will be moving across the country and becoming a father. A lot changes in five years. I know this place has changed me for the better. I hope that maybe, in some small way, it changed you for the better too.
I want to give special recognition to all of the badass women who have been part of #TeamPOZ over the years. From our first editor-in-chief Emily Coch on down, women have held it down on our front end, our back end, our Reviews section, our Showcase section, our Photo galleries, our op-eds -- everywhere. So to Emily, Adrienne, Ashley and Deanna and Caitlin (who have just started a great new podcast), Maysa, Sydney, Brittany, Becky, Ali, Marie, Hilary, anyone else I’m unfortunately forgetting right now (I’m sure there’s a few) and all of our awesome female contributors over the years -- thank you for making this place better than it ever had any right to be.
I’m not writing this to pat ourselves on the back. We didn’t put out a special call for women, or institute a quota, or set out trying to make a statement. We simply went looking for the most talented, most passionate, most awesome people we could find -- and this is who we wound up with. Which means that if you’re running a music site and it doesn’t look like this, you are actively doing something wrong. Do better. Our strength as a scene will always follow directly from the diversity of our voices.
My staff bio begins, “Jesse was the first staffer at PropertyOfZack, and will be here until someone turns out the lights.” When I wrote that, I didn’t expect that we’d be choosing to flip the dimmer switch quite so soon, but here we are and here I am, keeping my word. In the five years I’ve been here, we’ve accomplished so much. We took a husk of computer code on a free platform and pumped that shell so full of spare minutes and hours, excitement, curiosity, hard work, anger and love that it became something wonderfully special, vibrantly alive and singularly ours. We took this place we built, filled it with family and made it a home. Maybe we've outgrown that home; the fact that it’s now time to leave in no way diminishes what we’ve accomplished here.
PropertyOfZack was great. PropertyOfZack is great. Ever will it be.
Today is a weird day. I’m having some déjà vu—I already bid farewell to the site. Twice. Once in 2012, nearly three years ago, via email, when I stepped down as PropertyOfZack’s first Editor-in-Chief, and once in November 2014, when a cross section of TeamPOZ composed a Song of Ourselves for our fifth birthday.[1]
Because today is a weird day, I did a weird thing—the first time I’ve done anything like it. I listened to a Zack Zarrillo podcast.[2]
Likely because I began as his only partner-in-crime and relentless editor-in-chief, Zack pleaded that I not listen to either of his podcasts and avoid anything on which he was a guest. Turns out, my chagrin is electromagnetic in nature: it can be anticipated before it occurs, and is sensed across city limits by King Defender himself.
But today seemed like the right day to violate Zack’s request: it’s the end of an era, and there’s nothing left for me to edit. There actually hasn’t been anything for me to edit for quite some time now, and I don’t just mean syntax.
I left the site for a complex set of reasons, but the two most prominent were about the business model and ethos of the site. First, I was not comfortable with BuzzMedia/SpinMedia’s acquisition of our tiny little corner of the Internet. Second, and perhaps more significant, I felt my dedication to the site exploited, my work taken for granted and my sense of self disappearing into silent support of what was definitively Zack’s – and only Zack’s – all-consuming and increasingly successful project.
I vowed I would never say “I told you so” about the former, so I won’t.[3] But the latter—it’s important, because the development of PropertyOfZack is as much a coming of age story as it is anything else.
Zack, at 19, was inexperienced and erratic: he has publicly alluded to his mismanagement of time and priorities in the site’s first years. And I, at 19, was sensitive and too apt to extrapolate: I certainly mistranslated some insecurity into indignation. But even forgiving the confused haze our youth allowed us, there was a real dearth of principles steering PropertyOfZack. The goal was to be first and factual, prolific and pointed—but Zack, in a rush to victory, opted for strength in optics and forsook integrity in operations. And so I was a casualty—via friendly fire, sure, but a casualty nonetheless.[4]
That PropertyOfZack experience should sound unique and foreign to you, because it is. Heck, it’s my experience and I find it logged in the distant and unfamiliar terrain of my mind.
Why?
Because Zack always makes new mistakes.[5]
When I transitioned from Editor-in-Chief to Friend of the Site, a lot changed very quickly. Zack continued to tirelessly elevate the caliber of content, and, along the way, grew a network of honest, dedicated editors and thought leaders—a true team, and one that Zack managed with transparency and compassion and respect. Not again did he muddy the waters of intellectual property, and not again did I find my infrequent contributions to be morally ambiguous echoes in the ether. Sure, he made other mistakes—other, new ones that themselves informed other, new changes in basic site practices.
This most recent iteration of the site, the one developed when Zack won his property back from SpinMedia, is the ultimate realization of his ineffable dream, a dream he has been courageous and skillful enough to let us dream with him. This is where the world comes to scope out tour dates and new music, to learn about the nuts and bolts of a complex industry and to follow important discussions of equality and consumer responsibility. This is where the world comes for information and for an opinion.
This is PropertyOfZack by Zack Zarrillo & Friends. And it’s always been—Zack just knows well enough now to say it and mean it. And so it always will be.
When I stepped down, I thought it would hurt to leave—but I never really left. How could I? Here is where we built a music site that’s not about music, and here is where the music is the magic. Here is where there will be no new posts but there will always be discovery. It’s not all over now, baby blue. How could it be?
Nothing gives me more pride than to say I knew you all way back when, than to know I know you now—and nothing will bring me more happiness than to know the joyous noise you’re destined to make.
If you’re the artist, Zack, then PropertyOfZack was a demo, and later a recorded album. It’s time now, I think, to leave the safety of the studio and get on the road. I’m dying to see you live.
To always making new mistakes.
That piece is by far the strongest eulogy I’ll ever write for the site and most complete celebration of PropertyOfZack as the best catalyst for the music community and industry. I suggest you stop reading this now and go read that instead. Really. http://bit.ly/1wTOd3r ↩
Lie. If interviews are akin podcasts, I’ve listened to several Zack conducted back when I made the mistake of attempting to transcribe some in the early POZ days. But, you really should listen to The Life and Death of PropertyOfZack. http://propertyofzack.com/post/125960884148/the-life-and-death-of-propertyofzack ↩
For the two Classics scholars who will read this post, this is indeed an instance of recusatio. ↩
The list of enemy loss is fairly extensive, but LOLOL remember the downfall of Sup Justin?! That has to be the first real take down over which POZ reigned. ↩
On Hacky Metaphors, Sentimentality and Why It’s Okay for Things to End
by Adrienne Fisher
In Pennsylvania, on I-78 between Allentown and Bethlehem, there’s a certain stretch of highway. It’s unremarkable as far as highways go. Three lanes, concrete median. Semi-trucks huffing up inclines, cruising down exits to one of the Lehigh Valley’s myriad warehouses or industry parks. The road dips and bends moderately to cut through the gratuitously hill-stroked plains of eastern PA. You can slide right between these two towns without ever thinking twice about the path you’re traversing, mind tuned to autopilot, focus laid on the future at Point B. That’s likely the point. Car travel can be so boringly utilitarian.
I graduated high school ten years ago, in June 2005, and on that night that particular expanse of highway came alive. The lane markers glowed wildly, a rapid strobe as they faded in and out of proximity. Yellow floodlights at the side of the road tubed and curled into one another as I sped past in my first car, a 1992 Ford station wagon, weaving around puny speed limit-abiding sedans. The speedometer never quite worked past 60mph, but even if I had known to temper my speed, I wouldn’t have done it anyway. I was literally racing into the next stage of my life and away from the old one, milking the tired and true metaphor of transition for all it was worth. I was alone; the friendship politics of adolescence had left me socially solo, with no carpooling options for graduation. Something Corporate’s “Hurricane” was pouring out of the speakers at max volume. I drove barefoot, graduation gown open, with my cap and stilettos piled onto the passenger seat. I rounded a bend at the bottom of a gentle hill going at least 90 with my left arm dangling fully out the window. I screamed Andrew McMahon’s words back at him. I remember thinking, in real-time, that I was living a moment that mattered a lot.
I tell this story because a story like this – of the significance I levied onto the staggering feeling that I felt -- would matter to absolutely no other audience in the world outside of the one reading this blog. The moments in our lives that get permanently tamped into our memories almost always coincide with a song and a feeling, a communion of fleeting and ambiguous concepts that would slip away into nothingness if not for the importance we place on them and the songs we use to soundtrack them. The music’s a mnemonic. I remember that moment, just like I remember plenty of others like it – just like you remember plenty of your moments.
That day, when I graduated high school, I never thought I could be a music writer. Five years later, when I graduated college, I never thought I could be a music writer. Today, right now, as I ignore my nine-to-five inbox at a non-profit publisher and hide out in a dimly lit corner of the office to write this, I still don’t really think I can be a Music Writer™. But after dozens and dozens of album reviews, show write-ups, ten-year retrospectives, commentary pieces, AOTY lists, long-winded editorials, band showcases and a lengthy interview or two – it kind of seems like I am. I might be. It’s hard to tell sometimes. Although, to that end, I’ve only really ever been sure, fully and legitimately, of two truths: that I can string a damn good sentence together; and that I love this little weird kinda-punk microcosm of a scene down to my stupid emo-or-not-emo-I-don’t-know-I-love-Fall-Out-Boy guts. Those are my truths. They are inalienable and they are mine.
I had just turned 25 when Zack offered me a chance to combine my truths and gave me a platform to say all the shit I’d only ever been able to say to myself for the twelve years prior. I had finished college but I had no real experience, no relevant contacts and no real grasp on the importance of the “reply all” button (I do now, don’t worry. I’m a goddamn professional) – and we all know that a degree means shit in the face of all that other stuff. My reality at the time was the bleak story we the millennials all get to share in miserable solidarity together: moved back home after college, got a job at the mall since it was the only place that would hire me, and drove into NYC at every opportunity to attend every show I could. Applying to write, unpaid, for POZ was an attempt to anchor myself in my scene -- where my heart was -- since I couldn’t seem to figure out how to do it in a career.
Over the past three years, POZ has been an outlet unlike one I’ve ever had in my life. My contributions and participation expanded into a more integral role after just a few months, and my involvement felt like it mattered. Even after I got myself a “real job” and moved away from my parents’ house, writing about music and coordinating projects for POZ was my solace, my chance to develop a skill outside of the traditional workplace, my cement binding me to the world and the bands I love. Moreover, the POZ team, through a dash of coincidence and a bunch of incredible personalities, have become some of my closest, most trustworthy and reliable friends. Talking through ideas, editing their words, cheering their accomplishments and working every day on this passion project together – those are the things I will miss most dearly and deeply about this blog. I can always write, whether or not it gets read. But I’ll be hashtag blessed to ever again work with another team so thoroughly packed with intelligent and awesome humans. To my brother in the Rebel Alliance (Connor), my former Jewish camp counselor-turned editor (Jesse), and my premium homie (Zack): thank you. I am not just a better writer and professional because of you, but a more progressive thinker, a more critically minded reader, a more thoughtful human being. I hope, somehow, that I’ve contributed even a fraction of that for you all.
I’m not really sure what to do now. As evidenced by the introduction of this essay, I tend to internalize the big changes in life down to the very molecules of my being and, believe me, I’m feeling the void of POZ already. I’ve been crying (a little) and thinking (a lot) about what’s next. I don’t really have a backup plan and that was probably a mistake. But business as usual at work, in my cubicle, has never been enough for me, and if there’s one big lesson I’ve learned from POZ and ZZ, it’s that the side hustle is what keeps you sharp when the obligation that’s putting money in your pockets doesn’t. It’s what facilitates personal growth when a cold and sterile day job just doesn’t cut it. It’s where you can evolve the thing you love into something you love even more.
I was driving back to New Jersey from my parents’ in Allentown early last week, just a day after Zack broke the news to the staff that he would be closing down the site. I felt sullen, fixated on the nature of endings. Same highway. Same summer evening air flowing through the windows. A new car with a functioning speedometer – the cruise control set on 74mph. I didn’t even have time to think about it when it happened, but Spotify radio spit something up at me: Something Corporate, leaking through the speakers. (I swear, I’m not making this up for the sake of continuity.) Same song as it was on graduation night. I was here again, living a moment that mattered, even though the girl driving on graduation night barely resembles the woman writing this today. Yet, it was the same moment, an organic re-creation ten years down the line, marking an ending while signifying that there were still beginnings to be had. Conveniently and overtly metaphoric, of course, but even a tired metaphor will still bear meaning to someone. Some things will always change, and music things – especially when they’re everything – will be important forever.
The most nervous I’ve ever felt was sitting in the backseat of a Philadelphia taxi, watching the city skyline sprawl by in the hazy daylight of an afternoon in late May. I was the bleary-eyed kind of tired that only comes from early airport mornings, but the usual hurry-up-and-wait anxiety that accompanies flying from Erie to Philly slipped into nerves at the prospect of meeting Zack face-to-face for the first time as quickly as my cab driver dodged in and out of traffic.
In August of 2012, I was a sophomore living on the 13th floor of Lawrinson Hall at Syracuse University. It was the kind of dorm where a conspicuous lack of air conditioning made the first few weeks of the fall semester a sweltering and altogether miserable affair, and where, on the right nights and with the right romanticism, the cars passing by on I-690 sounded like an ocean. It was in the choking heat of that dorm room, on one of those evenings, when Thomas Nassiff convinced me to apply for editor-in-chief of PropertyOfZack.
During my first Facebook conversation with Zack, we broke the ice with a quick rundown of our favorite bands and an agreement that yes, The Menzingers’ On the Impossible Past was probably going to be the year’s best album, hands down. When we finally eased off the getting-to-know-each-other brink and dove headfirst into business, reading Zack’s dedication and passion for the site felt like catching a spark of heat lightning in a mason jar. For as long as it burned, I wanted nothing more than to share that flame. TeamPOZ was, to loosely paraphrase Jack Kerouac, “desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.”
Not long after we first spoke, Zack offered for this dorky journalism nerd to join TeamPOZ, and for that, I’ll always be grateful. I’m equally thankful for everyone who ever penned a word for the site: I’m already going to write too long (what’s new?) to include a thousand-word litany of names, but you know who you are.
In the back row of Astronomy 101 lectures, in stolen minutes at Bird Library between classes, and in hastily-closed tabs when I should’ve been working on projects for my Intro to Graphic Design elective, I’d message Zack and post in the TeamPOZ Facebook group as we planned to fill the metaphorical night sky with metaphorically fabulous roman candles in the form of writing. Mornings were usually met with a “Suppy bitch” waiting for me in my Facebook messages, and that driven spirit carried on throughout the day — from Friday discussions to March Sadness and multipart Inside features, Zack was a veritable fountain of ideas, and I tried to get my leaky faucet of an imaginative mind to keep up. I’m lucky to have met a group of amazing people with the talent, drive, and ambition of TeamPOZ, and I’m even luckier to be able to count myself among those ranks.
Getting out of the cab and stepping out onto the pavement of a busy Philadelphia street corner, a faint shadow of doubt tugged at my mind that maybe the natural working relationship I had developed with the POZ crew wouldn’t carry over in person. That weekend, spent at Skate and Surf the year Fall Out Boy threw up the hang-ten sign and shredded gnar for the first time since their hiatus, shook that feeling in a heartbeat.
Ostensibly, PropertyOfZack is a website. It’s lines of code that translate to reviews, features, interviews, and photography on a sleekly designed Tumblr engine. And the accomplishments on the technical, website end of things are ones worth being proud of. But PropertyOfZack is, and always will be, so much more than that.
PropertyOfZack is riding a roller coaster in the rain with Connor and the members of A Day to Remember not named Jeremy McKinnon, shouting “SUPPY NATION” into the cloudy New Jersey sky. PropertyOfZack is making too-easy jokes about the Sbarro at a rest stop on the way down from Philly. PropertyOfZack is Zack high-fiving Macklemore as the rapper walked backstage, and the fleeting-but-incredible moment of Zack not realizing who he was. PropertyOfZack is realizing that a decent chunk of In Defense of the Genre sucks while in traffic trying to escape Six Flags; it’s Thomas Nassiff, Connor, and myself deciding beer is a perfectly acceptable breakfast pairing with bagels while Zack tweets about us being children; and it’s a snapshot of seven of TeamPOZ’s jacket-clad members braving the rain as Mod Sun is caught in mid “What’s trippy, my hippy?” shout in the background. PropertyOfZack is the unspoken recollection of why you love music in the first place, and having the right people to share that emotion with.
For me, the best parts of being on TeamPOZ come from the feeling of trying to make a positive difference in our own small way, whether that meant being recognized by national media outlets for breaking the news of Fall Out Boy’s reunion (I made sure to text Zack between games of drunk FIFA with my roommates to triple-check that he felt his sourcing was sound when he let me in on the news he was set to break) or simply stating our opinion on how to right the wrongs of a scene that still has a long way to go in terms of inclusivity. Even as TeamPOZ’s roster shifted, it always felt like home, whether online or in person, watching The Lion King at four in the morning after a Whataburger run (cheers, Ali and Ashley) or recruiting Ashley at Starbucks on Marshall Street over a chance tweet from Jesse Cannon, who, ironically, we ran into out of the blue at SXSW. PropertyOfZack is a flat circle, huh?
PropertyOfZack is called PropertyOfZack for a reason (even though he’ll always say it was just a silly name to start out with): Zack is a linchpin, like the Derek Jeter of music blogging. Even when he was battling through his own personal trenches, I only saw that spark of heat lightning flicker; it never once faded. And while this chapter is closing, all I can say is that he can start the next one knowing he got this one fucking right. It’s been an honor and a pleasure to work with him, even though I’m no one’s suppy bitch.
I promised myself I wouldn’t get sappy while writing this, but the second I sat down with my laptop, proudly wore my POZ shirt and cracked open a Strongbow, I felt an unshakable sense of early-onset nostalgia for the site. I love being a proud member of TeamPOZ, and I love that, because of it, I’ve made some fantastic friends and memories, and I’ve been able to share my writing and thoughts with too many faithful readers to thank, and read some absolutely brilliant work by writers who are way more talented than myself.
Still, transition is a necessary part of life: As Zack’s favorite band would say: “I guess this is growing up.” As I graduated from Syracuse and spent the better part of this past year searching for and acclimating to my first full-fledged job in the real world, hundreds of miles from home, I hadn’t written as much lately as I wish I did. But TeamPOZ always had my back, and this is just to let them know that I’ll always have theirs, too.
Watching PropertyOfZack close is tough, but at least we have time for this one more drink before last call to reminisce about the good times before the bar closes and we step outside to watch the site close the only way Zack and TeamPOZ would ever let it: not fading away, but burning like a fabulous yellow roman candle exploding like spiders across the stars.
Six years ago Zack interviewed my first-ever band, Fire Torpedoes! Flipping the script and doing an interview where he was a subject had been an idea I tossed around for quite some time, but I’m so glad I waited until earlier this year to finally have that chat. The website had really come full circle and we were back to being a small staff, posting things because we wanted to.
I had some incredible times because of this website and the things we accomplished but my biggest takeaway is to surround yourself with a team of amazing people. I have learned so much more about writing from Adrienne and Jesse than I ever did in school, but it’s more than just grammar and punctuation (a skill Zack still woefully lacks). During our time this past year, I feel that we all established a strong voice.
For a long time this website lacked a voice. Zack would write the news during the day and I would do it at night. There was no personality, no input from the author. Every post used the same boilerplate formula. We would post about a metalcore band’s music video because it might get page views. I got really burnt out doing this and I eventually told Zack I couldn’t do news anymore. I can’t even imagine how he stuck with it for as long as he did. After we regained our independence this year, I think Zack and I felt similarly about never wanting to have to run the site like we used to. But I never imagined we could establish such a clear personality.
Between amazing features from Jaime Coletta and James Cassar, one off articles by Jessica Perry and Ashley Aron holding down the weekend with Showcases, I was really proud of the site. I always took pride in what we did, but after the website started being successful that pride became really misplaced; I cared about the page view numbers, not because it meant people liked what I had to say but just because it was seen. Only in the past two years have I made the switch in my mind to caring about quality versus quantity on the internet and I’m really glad that, if PropertyOfZack has to close, we did it while we are still at our peak in quality.
A lot of things have changed for the staff in the last 6 months and there is only more change to come, and this to me is the main reason we needed to call it quits. Zack broke the news to us with a message that started “hi friends” and I instantly knew what was to follow. Looking back on it, this had been in the cards for a while. We all have exciting new things happening and I can’t wait to see what Adrienne, Jesse, Zack and everyone who has contributed to the website does in the future.
Six years is a long time. I used to be a sappy 16 year old who would post Facebook status updates each day that ended with phrases such as “text it.” Now I’m a broken 22 year old suffering from RSI and severe allergies to: everything. It’s been a journey filled with good, bad, wacky, shitty and juicy moments. Here’s the highlight reel:
The Amount of Zack Zarrillo Related Typos on PropertyOfZack: The limit does not exist[1].
The Moment I Knew the Website Could Be a Thing: I interviewed Kevin Devine with Emily Coch on March 19th in 2010, just a little under six months following the site’s launch. I had done a dozen interviews or so up to this point, but I didn’t feel confident in “my craft.” I hadn’t met Kevin before. When we walked in, a few hours before doors, he greeted us by saying, “Can you give me a few minutes? My mom is driving here from Brooklyn and is lost.” Speaking with Kevin at a winery at age 16 while he wore New York Knicks mesh shorts and treated me like a real human being, even though I was a kid, was the ultimate boost of confidence I needed. I’ll never forget that. That’s why I’m so grateful to work with Kevin in a new role every day.
Deepest Regret(s):
Title Fight’s Floral Green came out on September 18th, 2012 via SideOneDummy. PropertyOfZack was responsible for its leak, several weeks early, on September 3rd. While I was not the individual that directly leaked the album onto the internet, I made the mistake of sharing my advance with a staff member. They broke my trust, just as I had broken the trust of the publicist and other individuals who gave me an advance of the album in the first place. Three years later, I still deeply hate that this happened. I never won’t.
In November 2014, I deleted several news posts from the previous year regarding sexual allegations against Harry Corrigan, formerly of No Good News. While ignorant to it at the time, it was a grave mistake that I’ve considered nearly every day since early May of this year. It seemed very simple to just remove the posts, and that in itself was the issue. Why did I remove them? Blind trust and anxiousness. I didn’t want to deal with the potential pressure or disappointment from John James Ryan or anyone else that might work with the band in the future. What a dumb thing. So much of working in music, whether as a band member or a manager or a blogger, seems fake and lawless. Ultimately, that’s incredibly wrong. The dedicated individuals that call themselves fans of music and labels and websites are human beings, and so are the individuals that make that music, run those labels, and publish those websites. It’s something that is stupidly simple, yet overlooked. We might be paid less attention because we’re not attractive to the radio or to television, but there are millions of fans in this underground music scene. We all take steps forwards and backwards. Removing those posts was a step backwards for this scene when it came to promoting safety and awareness and just doing the right thing.
The Fall Out Boy Leak: Despite AltPress running a piece a few days prior asserting that a reunion was not happening (they knew it was), I leaked Fall Out Boy’s reunion on January 25th, 2013. I began work on sourcing the info nearly two months prior, at the start of December. It’s still so stressful that I think I blacked out doing an interview with Jason Pettigrew of AltPress for a feature a month after the leak.
I don’t have much to add that I haven’t written or spoken about before, but I’d like to note that I was home in Manhattan from Drexel due to not having class that Friday, I think. I got the go ahead from my super-secret source that I could run with the leak that morning, but I had a lunch date with a booking agent[2] that would soon have involvement in Light Years, the first band I started managing. We got lunch at a shitty diner in Midtown Manhattan and I ordered a veggie burger with fries. I was noticably anxious. When I told him why, he advised I get the hell out of there and do my thing. I then went to my parents’ office (we were supposed to go to New Jersey later that evening) and did the deed. Before doing so, I called a peer at Crush Music to inform him that I was going to be giving a big middle finger to the company I had once interned at, and would be pulling the rug out from under their largest moment since From Under The Cork Tree. He didn’t answer and we didn’t talk for two years afterwards. Jason Tate was at a wedding when this happened; he got mad at me for making him retreat to a starewell to handle the shitstorm that had erupted. I also should have posted this on a Monday, but did so on a Friday out of FOMO. Regardless, we got a lot of traffic and I got a few death threats. What a time to be a 19-year-old.
Number of Shows I’ve Been to Since Officially Starting PropertyOfZack (11/08/09): 388
The ¯_(ツ)_/¯ Moment: New Found Glory released an abysmal statement regarding Steve Klein’s removal from the band months after his departure, as news finally leaked onto the internet over why Klein was kicked out. I took it upon myself to share my disapproval with the statement on AbsolutePunk in a comment. It was pointed, but I thought (and still think) that it was a fair and accurate assessment. Shortly after, I went on tour with Modern Baseball on The Wonder Years’ The Greatest Generation Tour in March of 2014. Chad Gilbert came to a stop of the tour at House of Blues Disneyland on March 24th and confronted me in a dressing room. He was offended, as I had made a claim publicly against the band in a time where he believed their backs were against the wall. His was, and he lashed out at me. I could have handled the situation better, but he could have as well. That was the single most “heroes turn human in front of me” moment in my six years of running the website. It still makes me sad. However, this custom shirt was bought for me the next day, and it’s sick.
How I Tricked My Mom into Letting Me Get a Tattoo: I hated college. My parents were well aware of this. What’s that have to do with getting my first tattoo? Well, I sat my parents down in the fall of 2012 to talk to them about something I had on my mind. Before I could open my mouth my mother spoke up and said, “You’re not dropping out of college.” In that moment, I knew I had the upper hand. She showed her cards, which allowed me to state firmly that I was not dropping out of college – but I was going to be getting a tattoo(!) within the next month, and that it may not be the only one I’d ever get! She caved. Now I have four tattoos and am hip.
Pageviews from August 29, 2011[3] to July 31st, 2015: 24,652,144
Ad Money Received from BuzzMedia/SpinMedia Between Spring of 2012 and June of 2014: $0
Punkest Moment: Doing a shot of whiskey with Chuck Ragan and my friend Laurel at The Bell House just after I turned 18, before graduating high school.
First Stage Dive: Did you know I have a Jewish Mother™? She is still, to this day, very concerned about my “punk lifestyle.” If I ever teased her about stagediving at a show, she would have taken my life away before someone else could have. I did it anyway at Man Overboard’s Lost Tape Collective holiday show in 2012. It was pretty sick. I hurt my back. Here’s a photo.
Number of Audio Interviews I’ve Done: At least 411. I am positive that at least two dozen are missing. The time added up for those interviews equals four full days spent recording. While I became incredibly efficient at speed-transcribing interviews, I would imagine that I’ve spent around eight days of my life typing up interviews. This, of course, does not account the 100 or so email interviews I’ve done. Hot tip: Band members are typically horrible at email interviews. Always go for a phoner/in-person talk.
I spelled limit wrong before proofreading this post, for what it’s worth. I also just spelled “worth” as “wroth.” ↩
Not Jason Parent. ↩
Before I started flirting with BuzzMedia, I used a tool called SiteMeter to track our traffic. We started using Google Analytics on August 29th, 2011. The total number of pageviews for that first day was under 700. Our largest day for pageviews was on October 8th, 2011 with just under 117,000. For reference, when the news broke about Tom DeLonge being fired from blink–182 earlier this year, we received just under 108,000 pageviews. While PVs are important for typical ad units, they tend to not matter to me compared to the number of unique visitors. The largest amount of unique visitors we ever had on a day was just under 72,000. ↩
I've been aware of Zack Zarrillo since 2009, which is a testament to all that he had already achieved before 2011, when we met on Twitter, and 2013, when we met in person for the first time. Now, six years removed from my first visit to PropertyOfZack, Zack is shutting his namesake down. What's wild to me is that I, like Zack, am 22 at the time of writing, in this, the year of our Lord Tom DeLonge, 2015.
Zack and I have only worked together in any official capacity a handful of times. In fact, I wasn't published on POZ until this year. Instead, our relationship has been more a collegial one, with frequent check-ins and comparisons of ideas and workflows. I consider us friends, in the way I refer to most in my online circles as friends. It's hard not to cultivate friendships when so much time is spent writing about similar topics on weblogs visited by roughly the same demographic.
From the start of my writing career, I selected Zack as a challenger. In a lot of ways, we came up in tandem. We've obviously traveled very different courses within the industry, but initially we learned and grew together, apart. We both started young, very young. If the standard starting age in the music industry is 20 or 21, we each had a three-to-four year head start on most. Call us high school kids with laptops, smartphones and quick fingers. Getting news out quickly was the goal. Much like Thomas (as he mentioned in his farewell), I too saw Zack as a competitor -- an all too fast competitor. Jealousy and admiration are both accurate descriptions of the feelings I harbored towards ZZ before I figured out that none of that competitive stuff matters.
In 2012, POZ and Under The Gun Review (the blog I was running with James Shotwell at the time) joined a collective called AbsoluteVoices. We, along with Alter The Press and Punk News, "teamed up" with Absolutepunk in an effort to push the scene into a bigger demographic and make some money doing what we loved on the way. Ultimately, all of it failed in 3 months' time. The aftermath took the shape of several years of hardship for those of us now involved with a company hemorrhaging staff and money. BuzzMedia became SpinMedia, which became SpinGroup in a whirlwind of CEO swaps, questionably legal buyouts and bankruptcy scares. It's amazing that UTG and POZ made it out but, as of this year, they both have. James hasn't decided the fate of UTG just yet, but this weekend, POZ dies free.
POZ has done a lot of cool stuff over the years. I was very excited for the rebrand last winter and I've enjoyed the new focus on commentary and long-form features. The site has played host to a number of talented writers, all of whom have bright futures beyond the blog. In the end, when Zack signs off for the last time, it won't be the number of news posts or sponsored tours that I'll remember. It will be the way Zack cultivated his brand and handled business, even through difficult situations. His abilities as a businessperson have developed impressively since 2009. A bright future lies ahead of Zack. His label (which gave me a bunch of Mansions records and Phantoms on wax), the fortunate roster of bands he manages and all of the future endeavors he chooses to pursue will undoubtedly be met with success due to the willpower and determination he exercises, along with his sizable skill set and ingrained passions. The blog is done, Zack Zarrillo is not.
So #RIPOZ! The run was long and the journey was good. Now Zack has time to be a little more "normal" than he's had he opportunity to be for a good chunk of his life. Some time to learn about video games and all of those things his friends keep asking him to get into; additional hours logged in Overcast; and some quality time with his friends, family and girlfriend are well deserved.
This is the end for me on Off The Record. My final episode includes a discussion about Brooklyn, Dr. Dre and abuse, Straight Outta Compton, 11m Apple Music subscribers, and a bunch of self-centered questions. Jesse will be continuing on with season two of Off The Record in a few weeks, so keep subscribed. The new episode can be heard below!
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For as much as he taunts me about being old and dead before I turn 30 (less than three months from now), Zack also solicits me for pieces about being old and maneuvering through this scene and its many motions. He’s expressed, both publicly and privately, that the end of PropertyOfZack may indicate a loss of his identity, posing a strain on his relationship with music. I’m here to tell him that that’s bullshit, and that no matter what, he’ll be who he is, love what he loves, and immerse himself in it... if he so chooses.
I’ve been involved with punk and its derivations for more than half my life. Like many, I started as a mere spectator, going to what shows I could when scheduling, schooling and ride availability allowed. Through the Internet, my intense-yet-distant relationship with the music and bands I loved quickly escalated into a full immersion in a “scene.” AOL (and later AIM), LiveJournal and message boards were pivotal for me in building friendships and, moreover, communities.
These outlets taught me how to write, communicate and socialize. They enabled me to a build a literal worldwide network entirely rooted in shared subcultural interest. The Internet was largely responsible for carrying me over from spectator to participant. In their conjunction, punk and the Internet gave me a platform not just to meet people and soak up endless streams of music news, history and recommendations but to build a life and an identity for myself, a life and an identity that would be unquestionably different -- maybe even meaningless -- without the both of them.
Zack, in a different and more impactful way, has built and publicized his identity through the Internet, through PropertyOfZack. While I hesitate to stroke his ever-inflated ego, I must. He’s built a community for and around this music, nurtured his own subset of this scene and used his site as an extension of himself (and vice-versa). While my tenure as a contributor here has been quite brief and my friendship with Zack comparatively short, I’ve been here long enough to see his identity, and the site’s identity, shift and evolve. The end of POZ isn’t the end of Zack’s commitment to the music and the scene that built him; it’s the beginning of his commitment to himself. The site’s editorial shift earlier this year was only the beginning of that arc.
I fully believe that we are culminations of all our experiences, whether those experiences are minute or life-shaking. We aren’t defined by what we do or have done; we are defined by what we’ve built. “Done” is finite. “Done” doesn’t leave room for growth, evolution or reevaluation. This is why I have trouble with to-do lists: nothing is ever actually “done.” While what we’ve built may very well be a series of things we’ve done, “building” allows for progress and change and suggests a greater purpose and flexibility. Most importantly, when we’re building things -- websites, communities, products, anything -- we’re ultimately building ourselves.
Today’s online communities are vastly different from yesterday’s, and witnessing the evolution of being a fan firsthand is fascinating. As the alt-Internet has evolved, so have I, and so has my place in it. The Internet I grew up with -- the Internet that nurtured me in the early stages of my musical life and relationships, that opened my eyes to how large this supposedly small word can be -- may be in the chronological past, but it very much lives in the foundation of my present. It’s evident in things as trivial as “emo nights” and nostalgia-fueled Buzzfeed lists, and empirical in my tears and grins when I listen to songs and bands I loved when I was 15, 25 and still at almost 30. Those feelings, those associations, those memories don’t go away unless you will them away. I think that Zack and I both owe too much to the music we love to let it fall out of our lives without a fight.
While the POZ era may be bookended this week, it’s up to Zack, and to all of us, to keep putting in the work which will ensure that these things continue to matter to us as long as we want them to. There’s a marked difference in involvement and investment between being a spectator and being a participant. For the past five years, Zack has not just cemented himself as a participant, he’s been the catalyst for many others -- including me -- to feel like a part of something bigger than just listening to a band and going to a show. We build ourselves, we make friendships, we form communities and make very real, very important choices about the media we share and the people we surround ourselves with. That’s huge, and that’s where we differ from the people that became “too old” for shows when they graduated high school.
Music is what Zack does. Music is what we do. And the fact that we can do it together is what makes this so special in the first place.
Get Schooled: Stop Punishing Managers and Labels -- If They Want You, They'll Ask
by Jamie Coletta
One of the questions that I’ve been asked repeatedly through this series is really one of the most common mistakes a band can make:
"Jamie, my band has toured our local scene and we're killing it on social media. How do we get signed?"
"I just released my own EP on Bandcamp and now I'm wondering how to go about getting a manger."
"We've booked our own tours forever and want a booking agent. What should I send to them to get thing going?"
"Jamie, how can my band get signed?"
"When will I get signed?"
"What should we do to get signed?"
"SIGNED SIGNED SIGNED ALL WE WANT IS TO BE SIGNED!"
Okay - first off - everybody needs to chill. Assuming that you need a manager or label or anything is immediately the wrong path to go down when you're a young band/artist. Allow me to go into further detail.
1. You don't need a manager, a label, an agent or anyone to get things going.
Your music is your best tool when it comes to getting the attention of anyone in the "industry." Write great music and people will notice. Things that can help? Playing local shows consistently and making sure people know about everything you're up to via social media. It may feel like you're doing a bunch of work for nothing, but trust me, these are the first things we look at when we come across a new band.
At the risk of over-disclosing, here's exactly how I go about approaching a new band I may want to consider signing:
First, either
- someone tells me to check something out and sends a link
- I read about a band on a popular website like Noisey or Stereogum
- everyone on my social media feed is talking about a band/record/etc.
- a band or artist starts interacting with me via social media in a very casual and appropriate way.
My next step is usually to look up said band on Spotify, Bandcamp, Twitter, Facebook or all of the above. I Google the band, too, to see if there are any videos or news pieces about them. Basic research. Who are they? What kind of plays/views/followers are we working with? Are they actively touring?
Once I've listened, done my research and have decided I'm into it, I reach out. Key words: I. REACH. OUT.
Which leads me to my next point...
2. Don't be a punisher.
If you're serious about finding a manager, an agent, a label or any kind of representation, don't be pushy. We have a term for that, and it's "punishing." Please don't punish me with your band/music.
If we have mutual friends (and I mean friends, not just people I interact with on social media or something), I don't mind getting an introduction that way -- but that's just me. Following up on an email you sent multiple times or tweeting me blind links to your Bandcamp profile? No bueno.
Oh, and you wanna know the worst trick? Joking or being slick about me signing your band. Again, this is just my personal opinion, but it's a huge turn off when I tweet something about looking for new music to check out and you reply, "us, duh!" or something equally cheesy and desperate-sounding. As always, I'm being harsh but I say this out of love and a strong desire for you to get noticed the right way. For all I know, I might LOVE your band, but if your approach is off, so am I.
What should you do instead? If you've done your research and you honestly think I will like your music, send me an email. Keep it short and sweet and refer to this for help.
3. Just because no one is reaching out doesn't mean you suck.
I hear this all the time. Bands are hustling, playing shows, releasing music and promoting actively but no one has reached out with interest in working with them. For a band, it may feel like you're doing something wrong. Sometimes you are, and it's good that you're actively thinking about it. But most of the time, you're not. This stuff takes time and, more importantly, patience. You may be at it for years before something real comes to the table. If your heart is in it, that shouldn't matter. Just keep doing what you love and people will take notice.
4. But sometimes it does.
Here's me, keeping it real again. Sometimes it really does mean you're not up to the standard that people are looking for, and unfortunately there is no real way to say that.
Everyone has different taste in music. It's important for bands to form a real support system early on, to help identify things that they could improve upon in the future. Your friends and significant others can come in handy here but they shouldn't be your last stop. Dig around -- who do you know, or who do your friends know, that could give you an honest, objective opinion on your music/live show/artwork/etc.? Try to identify a few trusted allies with varying tastes in music to help you along the way.
And you know what? Sometimes that won't even matter. I'm sorry. There's no nice way to put this -- sometimes, you might just suck.
5. When you do start reaching out, don't just jump into things.
I know more bands that are unhappy with their label/manager/agent/etc. than ones that are happy. I hate that. A lot of times, bands jump into things because they're just so excited that someone finally took notice. Check back a few months after their album comes out and suddenly things don’t seem so exciting after all.
Simple solution? Go with your gut. Think about it. Ask questions. Talk to your bandmates. Talk to that trusted circle of allies/friends/significant others/family/etc. Sleep on it. Have multiple phone calls with the potential label/manager/etc. Try to meet in person if you can. If they're really interested now, they will still be interested months later, or whenever it is that you're able to hang in real life or continue the conversation further.
Every band and artist deserves to have their team be made up of fans. And I mean real ones, not the fair-weather type that believe in you and work super hard until they realize that the initial plan isn't working out. Here's a shameless plug, but I am literally every band on SideOneDummy's biggest fan. For real! And by taking your time in the initial "flirting" phase, as I like to call it, ideally you will be able to weed out the temporary interest of labels/managers/etc and find a proper team of super fans for your band instead.
FOOTNOTE OR WHATEVER:
This will be my final Get Schooled for PropertyOfZack. Starting in September, I'm thrilled to be bringing the series to The Runout, a brilliant donation-based music website powered by my good friend Bryne Yancey. As minuscule as this little column may be in the music community as a whole, I'm really happy to have partnered with Zack and his team for eight killer months this year. I sincerely hope to have helped some of you along the way and look forward to continuing the adventure over at The Runout.
Now, I'd be remiss if I didn't say something about the end of PoZ. I'm older than most of you guys so I can't say I grew up reading PoZ. I grew up on AP.net, actually, but that's how I eventually discovered PoZ. Once I started working in music, I got to know Zack little by little, working on features and news posts here and there. Dude is a tough cookie to crack, in case you didn't know. Our friendship developed rather slow over the years but in between AIM conversations and our once-a-year-maybe-twice-if-we're-lucky meet ups, I found true inspiration in Zack. Like him or hate him (you probably hate him, I might even hate him), Zack has accomplished more in his time on this planet than a lot of people could even dream of. I watched him go from running this site to breaking huge stories to managing bands to starting his own record label and the entire time, all I could think was "what are YOU doing, Jamie?" Seriously! I felt like if he could accomplish so much at his young age, why wasn't I more accomplished? I struggled with this feeling of "not doing enough" for our scene. I started writing for blogs and consulting here and there, but eventually I realized - no one can do everything. Not me, not you and not even Zack. So when he told me he was bringing PoZ to an end, I definitely wasn't surprised. He's only one person and he can only do so much. But he created something great here, a place where we as a community could come together to be ourselves and learn about the bands that mattered most to us. Leaving that behind is only natural in Zack's progression into adulthood (lol) and in his career, and I'm thrilled to see where the future takes him next. Most of all, I'm thrilled to call him a friend.
Bands/artists, as always, hit me up with your questions via [email protected]. I love talking to you guys, even if it takes me several days/weeks to reply ;)
I will be doing an AMA in the r/PostHardcore Reddit on Monday, August 10th at 7PM EST for the dozens of people interested in asking questions about me, the website, Bad Timing, management, and so on. If you have any interest in asking questions or anything of that nature, feel free to check out the AMA then.
On this episode of INSIDE MUSIC, fan favorite Zack Zarrillo returns to discuss a number of changes currently happening in his life. Zack recently announced plans to shutdown his popular music blog, PropertOfZack, and he also made the decision to leave or end the two podcasts he helped create. This, on top of the news he is leaving his position at Jade Tree Records, has lead many to wonder exactly what Zack has planned for the future. This episode provides listeners with a number of answers, as well as a lot of explanation. Music journalism is not always what it’s made out to be in movies or books, and during our time with Zack a lot of the falsehoods of the business are brought into the light. Enjoy!
I spoke with James Shotwell on Haulix’s Inside Music podcast regarding the more inside baseball reasons for laying PropertyOfZack to rest. If you’re still interested in more talk following Connor’s Life and Death, this is not a bad listen either. Thanks for having me on, James.
RIP Showcase: So Long & Thanks For All The Pop-Punk
by Ashley Aron
Almost exactly two years ago, I reblogged a post from PropertyOfZack onto my personal blog - an impactful and well-worded piece by Jesse Cannon on how the punk community needed to stand together in light of the tragic deaths at Electric Zoo 2013. I threw in a comment about how great it would be for Jesse to come speak at my college. That small remark single-handedly helped me land the gig here at POZ as your Showcase Director since Jesse did, in fact, come to speak on my campus. He connected me with Erik, Erik connected me with Zack at just the right time, and the rest is history. I won’t bore you with the long-winded story, but god damn, what a journey it’s been.
I have posted at least two Showcase features every weekend since I joined in December 2013. I have reviewed submissions from countless Blink-182/Wonder Years/State Champs copycats, read some incredible stories of band members doing crazy shit, and connected with kids all over the country who are simply chasing the dream. It was the most rewarding feeling to have someone get excited that their feature was going up on POZ. The connections that being in this position has granted me are beyond words. I went to college in upstate New York, which is a C-level concert market at best. Running Showcase was like my virtual ear to the ground: I got to introduce our readers to PVRIS, I was elated to post about the EZ-ska movement that is Survay Says!, I fell in love with the original version of Broadside’s “Storyteller” pre-Victory Records, and so much more. When I got to see Broadside play live last May, I brought cupcakes for their drummer’s birthday. Now, it’s a tradition for me to bring sweet goodies to every Showcase band I get to see play live - if any of you are ever in LA, hit me up [seriously]. Think of it as a celebration of good music, good company, and the pursuit of punk.
You, the readers, gave me purpose in our scene when I felt lost. Being a part of POZ changed my life, truly. The network I created from running Showcase even helped me land my first real adult job in the music industry, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve found new friendships, helped a plethora of bands share the art they love to create, and above all, found a treasure trove of new music from bands I never would have listened to otherwise. I hope you did, too.
On Valentine’s Day of this year I had nothing better to do than talk to my friend Connor Sheehan for an hour over Skype. It’s Connor’s fault that the website exists, so it’s only natural to bid it farewell on an idea he put together. Way back in February, Connor wanted to talk through the birth, middle phases, and “reboot” of PropertyOfZack following our relaunch in January. But due to life and school obligations, Connor never got around to putting the podcast episode out into the world.
The news of the site’s demise gave him a little kick in the ass, and I’m glad it did. The Life and Death of PropertyOfZack is the first in what Connor hopes to potentially turn into a series of podcasts with creators and doers. The podcast was mostly recorded on that loving day in February, but ends with a recording I made just a few days ago, right before I announced the end of PropertyOfZack.
If you asked me at any given time in the past week how I was feeling, the answer would be tired. There’s the normal part of it-- working two jobs, trying to keep my apartment clean, finding time to eat and hang out with my cats. And then there’s the other part -- the fact that, in the past three months, I’ve accidentally become a poster child for feminism in punk, been in arguments with people who have far more power than I do, made a lot of friends, worried for my actual physical safety and the list goes on. It’s incredibly strange to suddenly be in the middle of all of it. Humbling, terrifying, strange and flat-out exhausting. That is the reality of being a woman in this scene today.
I get asked frequently if I’m okay. The answer to that question isn’t cut and dry. It’s nebulous, and ever-changing. I get to see my efforts and the efforts of my peers lauded by important people, but I also get to see that same work devalued and torn to shreds. When I tried explaining the situation to my parents, they immediately became worried that I was going to end up on some sort of hit list. But the tipping point has come and gone. We are at a crossroads, and it is now more dangerous to stay silent.
In my last column before the Runout’s summer break, I wrote about taking accountability, and how we should be applying that to the punk ethos. Since it was published, I feel like the exact opposite has happened. Two men have decided to enter into legal battles with their victims, claiming defamation and slander. A man was put into a coma at a hardcore show over “pit beef.” Kevin Lyman’s twitter feed has become some sort of avant-garde performance art about how to be the most stubborn, clueless man alive. I’m sure a hundred other things have happened that we haven’t heard about, and that’s the most sobering thought of all. It feels like throwing pebbles at the walls of Jericho.
Collectively, we have the power to demand better. That’s the most frustrating part-- all anyone wants is for people to hold themselves to a baseline of human decency. Yet for some reason, everyone is losing their fucking minds about it. I’ve seen the term “witch hunt” so many times that it almost gives me a migraine just to type it. Let me make myself abundantly clear: this is not a witch hunt. This is about standing up to a scene mired in toxic masculinity and abusive behavior. This is about saying "enough is enough." It’s about protecting the people punk was intended to protect-- outcasts and misfits, kids who finally know that someone understands them when they listen to a song, marginalized people desperate for representation, et cetera.
That is why your silence is dangerous. Whether you like it or not, whether you want to believe it or not, you’re in this. Every single person who wants to call themselves a part of this scene has a responsibility to keep it safe. How many whispers went around about Jake McElfresh before he was finally publicly exposed? How many people do we forgive for their behavior because it’s just “who they are’”? And more insidiously, when did we decide that artistic output is more valuable than the people destroyed in its wake?
When I said it was my scene too and that it owed me better, I meant it. I meant it for every single person who has been hurt by the action and inaction of key players. The head in the sand attitude has to stop somewhere. It doesn’t go away until we force it out. That was the one thing Kevin Lyman got right in his bizarre correspondence this past week-- the young people are the ones who have to foster change. When these old punks give us no choice but to cut them out, that’s exactly what we have to do. Let them have their old world.
Despite its problems, punk can be a rich and rewarding scene. Even in this tumultuous time, I feel like a real community has grown in the middle of the chaos. The real action must come from that community working online and in real life to make this scene better. There are people right now working very hard to do this. A non-profit organization called Safer Scene is in the grassroots phase to bring awareness and information to people at shows across the country. Numerous websites have begun to cover punk with a critical lens. And while it seems like everything is getting worse, it’s good to remember that the constant exposing of bad people means we’re that much closer to weeding them out. People all over the world who love this music have begun sharing their experiences and pointing out injustice.
What matters most is that the ball doesn’t stop rolling. It might feel like we’re all disconnected, disenfranchised kids, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The power to make a difference on the individual level can start anywhere-- your Twitter, Tumblr, whatever social media you prefer. Talking to people at shows, calling out the bad behavior you see there. If enough people run with it, lives could be changed at shows in more ways than one. It might make some people uncomfortable. Embrace that discomfort and let your paradigm shift. Sometimes what’s best isn’t easy. It all boils down to a willingness to educate and a desire to learn.
It may take awhile, but obstacles are in our way to be overcome, and I firmly believe that we can make it happen.
My brother and I have been inseparable since birth. Whether it was living together, going to the same schools or touring in the same band, we were always around each other. The band we had together, The Swellers, lasted 13 years and helped create some of the best memories of my life. We went to exotic countries, played with some of the bands we’ve loved forever and, most importantly, felt like we were a part of something bigger.
But as time went on, some of our priorities changed, and things no longer felt like they used to. For a number of reasons, rather than rising up the music food chain, the band simply continued to exist. Ultimately, we decided to end it on a high note. I was the one who finally made the call -- because I wasn’t about to give up on music. Yes, I wanted to end my band, which had a relatively large fanbase, so that I could focus on music. It sounds weird. I know.
I just got out of the studio after working on an EP with the new band I’ve been teasing for about a year now. I’m pulling a Dave Grohl and going from the back of the stage (and the comfort of my drum fortress) to the front of the stage, playing a stringed instrument (bass) and singing in a band without my brother. A year ago was the first time I stood up playing guitar and the first time I owned an electric bass. It was the first time I played with another drummer (because I was always the drummer), and the first time that, instead of collaborating with someone else on music, the songs were 100% mine. I wanted the pressure and reputation to be all on me this time. Touring for so long, and witnessing all of the levels of the industry, has lead me to write about music as a (not that great paying) profession for a few years now. I’ve been breathing the creative and business side of the industry for too long to not be active in it again. I can finally apply everything I’ve learned to something and do it the way I’ve always wanted. It’s different, but I love it.
The idea was to recreate the childhood naivety of starting your first band. Laying around at practice, going to eat together, hanging out when you’re not playing together and having fun without worrying about money. It’s a lot harder to do that when you’re in your twenties. You have responsibilities and you need real income to stay afloat. The Swellers was a luxury because we left high school immediately and still had the support of our parents to kickstart the band. This time, I wanted to start by finding people I was already friends with and ease into the music part down the road. There are problems that come with people who have never toured or recorded in a real studio before, but that’s part of the excitement. It’s fresh and new and the members of my band are green and ready to see what happens next. I can finally tap my network of friends from the last decade and see how they work on a clean slate. This is as exciting as it is terrifying.
Everyone fears change, at least just a little bit. I’m overwhelmed by it every unsuspecting time. What if this is a failure? What if I put all of my eggs in the wrong basket? What if I literally just suck at singing? Well, that’s on me and, realistically, it doesn’t matter. What I’ve learned in life is simple. You don’t have to compare everything to the past. Don’t romanticize nostalgia. Use everything you’ve learned as a stepping stone to the next level. Form a new outlook; build a new, better life.
People hate the idea of leaving something because they’ve invested too much time in it. That is complete and utter horseshit. Do what makes you happy. Live the life you want and take risks. No, that’s not meant to be some lame meme you see floating around Instagram or on a little metal sign at Bed, Bath and Beyond. If it doesn’t work out, move on and try something else. My parents were always stressing that I needed a Plan B for the band ending, but I always told them I didn’t need one because I’m not ready to give up just yet. When I want to, I will settle down. For now, it’s all about moving forward.
This all brings me to PropertyOfZack. Zack was a little nervous kid wanting to do interviews with bands for his site, and in a matter of a few years he became the person breaking big music news stories. He’s had a varying reputation among many circles in the industry, but at least he had a reputation. People knew him and his site. I was always proud, watching him go from a shy kid like I was to a household name in our music scene. He took time to learn and perfect what he was doing, whether it was a site or a label with successful bands or whatever else he put his mind to. I see a lot of myself in him, but he’s the smart version and I’m the stubborn musician.
I wish Zack all of the best in his future endeavors and I know it won’t be the last we hear of him. Just like it won’t be the last you hear of me.
