#this was supposed to be a post on my regular blog tying to my experiences in 2018 but i ended up going ham on the analysis

[astravarra]

Barcode

TW: Brief mention of self-harm (in reference to song lyrics)

~~ One of my favorite artistic works of 2018 is the song "Barcode" by Haon and Vinxen, who wrote the lyrics and performed it on High School Rapper 2. It’s a back-and-forth in which they make arguments for their respective perspectives in life, which also largely reflects each of them as people. It's a very personal song, and it was a bold but highly rewarding decision for their mentors to pair them together for this round.

I've taken away a lot from this song, and from these two kids (teenagers, but whatever). They can be polar opposites—there’s Haon, a cheerful spirit whose favorite hobby is meditation and who writes raps from a place of positivity, and there’s Vinxen, a somewhat brooding soul who draws lyrical expression from places inside him that are as vulnerable as they are deep. In “Barcode” these young artistic forces come together in a rhythmic dance of poetry and philosophy. In their first performance especially, they’re both still competing in the show so there’s that added tension of giving it all they’ve got for a purpose.

Two Perspectives

This song drew me in from the first few lines:

I want to end all of this.  I want to let go of everything. I want to ask mom how she feels when she scans barcodes, but will I get hurt when I find out?

The first words waste no time in establishing Vinxen’s tone in the song, but it’s the last two lines of that section that really got me. It paints a cold and sterile picture for me of a woman scanning barcodes under fluorescent lights; numb at worst, tired at best. It makes me think of the harsh but also dull realities of the average person. This image plus the minimal instrumental give off a bare-bones and contemplative aura to the song.

Haon’s first lines contradict Vinxen’s, but also immediately show what kind of perspective Haon has about his experience in life:

What is happiness? It's nowhere to be found, but at the same time it's in anything.

These lines, along with the rest of the verse, introduce his wise-beyond-his-years philosophy on happiness. While his language becomes more casual in his later verses, in this first one he sounds very much like a peaceful and scholarly monk.

In the last part of the song (which almost sound more like a bridge), the composition changes up and intensifies, and each line of Haon’s and Vinxen’s verses directly parallel and challenge each other. Of particular interest to me are their first lines, which call attention to each of their lack of perspective on the other person. On the one hand:

[VINXEN] Meditation doesn't help my tension. Who has the time to sit around?

Vinxen shows a limited understanding of how something like meditation (not necessarily sitting meditation) can offer great benefits and opportunities for growth, but may require coming out of his comfort zone or working through actual or perceived mental restrictions. On the other hand:

[HAON] Depression doesn't help my tension. It's a waste of time to be lying around depressed. Haon shows that he lacks either an understanding of depression, the tact to discuss it, or possibly some combination of both. I also wonder if he hasn’t yet experienced something that has truly crushed his spirit. I don’t wish that for him, of course, but given his emotionally intelligent and open-minded nature, those words simply reveal his youth (which isn’t a bad thing).

The Barcode Metaphor

The barcode metaphor is woven in a few different times throughout the song. The first is here at the end of Vinxen’s first verse, when he likens the self-harm scars on his arm to the lines of a barcode:

The black lines on white  make me look down at my arms and I wonder whether it's worth living like this again.

Within this verse he’s questioning his sense of value, a loaded concept that becomes even heavier when he makes that reference.

The chorus consists of Haon and Vinxen “scanning” the barcodes of their life experiences and choosing what to do with the “receipt” of that experience:

[VINXEN] Beep, next. Beep, next. Throw away the receipt for my last bit of pride.  [HAON] Beep, next. Beep, next. Give me the receipt for our memories.

Going back to the last verse, you can see from Vinxen’s part that in line with “throwing away the receipt” of the hardship, his desire is to escape it and be rid of it entirely:

I'll use my barcode as a crossing to escape beyond this box.

Meanwhile, Haon, who wants to “keep the receipt for our memories”, also makes a reference to the motion of being scanned but with a feeling of empowerment, by running on the conveyor belt, using it to his advantage so he can move forward:

If I have a barcode, I'm on a conveyor. Hold onto all the outer and inner influences and make a run for it

Final Thoughts

The song ends on Haon’s part of the chorus, with both of them reciting the “for our memories” line, that thin silver lining that maybe things will turn out for the better if we stay positive. It doesn’t take away from the tension of the rest of the song though; it largely remains an internal battle of holding onto hope versus losing it. The conclusion of “Barcode” feels less like “Everything will be okay if you stay positive!” and more like “Maybe if I accept these things in my life, I have hope of overcoming their power over me and living with a little more joy in my heart.”

[morganrivers]

04-05-2020

Who would have ever thought that this year would be filled with such troubling and questionable times...while only being barely four months into it. In January, the Australian bush fires shook the world. Affecting thousands of people and animals that call that country home. In late January, Kobe Bryant and his daughter, Gianna, among 7 others crashed in a helicopter on the way to a basketball game. Instantly killing every one on board. Every victim left families and loved ones behind. While not everyone was a basketball fan, everyone knew who Kobe Bryant was. You didn’t have to be a huge Kobe, Lakers, or even a basketball fan to feel what the world felt at that moment. Scared, heart broken, saddened. The unsettling reminder that life can be taken from you in an instance. No matter your status in life, your income, the amount of friends you have, or where you come from. Life does not discriminate. 

I was working Sunday morning brunch at the pub when TMZ first aired it on live television. Everyone in the restaurant, myself included, stopped what they were doing to watch the news unfold. At first, it was uncertain as to who was on board with him. Rumors and live footage of the crash flooded social media and every major news outlet. To find out the severity of the crash and the casualties was gut wrenching, I couldn’t even begin to imagine or fathom what their families at home were going through. 

Flash forward to March, a global pandemic made it’s way over to us. COVID-19, a new strand of the corona virus that mutates at a rapid rate. It’s an airborne disease that anyone can be affected by, especially the elderly and the immunocompromised. We’ve been in quarantine for almost three weeks now. All major businesses, except essential workers (grocery stores, doctor’s offices, etc.) are closed. The pub has temporarily shut down except for selling to go food and beer/wine. I haven’t worked a bar shift in almost a month now. I miss it. I miss my regulars, my work family, and the extra income. Other restaurants around us have shut down for good, Wild Wing, where I worked for 5 years while in college and Copper River Grill as well. I hate it for all the employees of those businesses, no guaranteed work to return to after all of this craziness is over with. A lot of those workers were our regulars at the pub whom I’ve formed relationships and friendships with over the last 3 years I’ve worked as a bartender.

What I’ve gathered from all of these recent events is that you never know when the last time you will experience something is. It gives me an uneasy and almost nauseating feeling when I begin to think of it. Life is fleeting. We take for granted each moment we experience. I try to stay present in situations and see them for what they are. Really experience them. Although, I am not perfect and that’s not always possible. I wish I could snap shot a moment and store it away until I want to relive it again. I will probably never see a lot of the people from Copper River or Wild Wing again. I wonder what their lives will entail within the coming days, months, and years. I wish them well and hope that they find work and comfort in a daily routine again. 

In light of everything, the world seems to be recovering. Pollution rates have gone down in highly populated areas. In Venice the canal has cleared up to where you can see the fish! Swans have returned. I believe Earth is getting a nice break because people are staying home. It’s a little bewildering to think about anything positive in such a negative situation. But I am thankful for it. Maybe this will be a wake up call for people, environmentally speaking. I think a lot of people are taking this time to do things that they usually do not find themselves doing. Me for example, here I am finally starting to blog. I tried writing in journals, sometimes it’s difficult for me to sit down and write. I find it easy to type out everything...easier on my wrists. I even got in my yard and made a flower bed, also stripped some popcorn ceiling in my bathroom yesterday. I’m hoping to finally get around to some chores I’ve been wanting to get accomplished in my house during all of this. Next thing on the list is to paint my bathroom and replace the mirror and light fixtures. I’m really looking forward to how it will look after it is done!

While I am trying to stay positive in my situation, I know that others are tremendously suffering right now during this time. There are many people who do not have a great home life. People who look forward to going to school or to work, just for an escape. Children who depended on meals from school and that positive environment to mold them into the adults that they will become. Women, even some men, who are in abusive relationships. Whether that be with a spouse, parent or guardian, or a sibling that so desperately wish they could escape from. I think of those people in this time, and wish that I could remove them from those situations. I think of those people and am grateful for what I have in my life, and wish I could give them the same. How I wish everyone on this planet had a loving, comforting, clean, warm home to go home to every night. I pray that this travesty that is wreaking havoc on our planet comes to and end soon. I pray that this changes how our world handles situations or better yet, prepares for them. I pray essential workers get a break; especially those on the front line of all of this. Nurses, doctors, respiratory therapists, grocery store workers, pharmacists, FedEx/UPS, etc. I pray that those out of work can return to work soon. I pray that this doesn’t lead our economy into a recession. I pray. To whom I do not know. The universe I suppose, to help us in this time of need. We need to give back to the universe. Stop having so much hate for one another. To give love, to give kindness, to be less selfish. I hope that I can lead a better life and attitude after this. I want to keep up with what I am doing during this time; journaling, working in the yard, little projects on my house, and exercising. I hope for normalcy in life again. A routine. We all crave it.

I am saddened that the music festival that I was supposed to attend this year has been cancelled. It was an amazing line up of artists! Billie Eilish, Lana Del Rey, Red Hot Chili Peppers, RL Grime, Post Malone, RKS and loads of other musicians I was so excited to see. I was going to go with an amazing group of people. We had rented a house on the beach where the festival was going to be held. I hope we get to experience this festival in the future.

Whenever all of this is over and we all get to go out in public and be together I know I will be overcome with emotion. To be able to be with all of my friends and enjoy drinks, a good meal, some conversation and laughs will be amazing. I can’t wait to go to my first concert again, to be able to hear live music among a crowd of people. Everyone feeding and vibing off one another among a musician they all love! I can’t wait to get weekly lunch with my mom and sister again. To see them everyday and give them a hug or a kiss on the cheek. I’ve had to avoid hugging and being my normal affectionate self because of all of this...that’s very hard for me. I can’t wait to be able to drive up to Greenville to see my best friend and go out with her and enjoy a hike at a near by state park. I can’t wait to be able to do outdoor activities. Kayaking on the river, going on a boat ride with friends, tying up at Sandy Beach and have a fun ass day drinking and hanging out with people. I can’t wait to be able to go get my hair cut or my nails done. To go shopping at a store whenever I felt like it. I will be so thankful when these days come again. And I hope to never take them for granted.

[firstfootingscotland]

Bogha-frois Conversations: Joseph Peach

Early this year during Glasgow’s Celtic Connections Festival I had the pleasure of joining a host of incredible LGBT+ artists for a performance and a panel around the theme of Bogha-frois: LGBT+ Voices in Folk. A brainchild of Pedro Cameron (Man of the Minch), Bogha-frois began as a workshop at the Scottish Storytelling Centre and takes its name from the Gaelic word for “rainbow.” The energy around Bogha-frois has enacted a metamorphosis - far beyond a standalone workshop, panel, or critically-acclaimed gig, Bogha-frois is a movement celebrating gender and sexual diversity within traditional and folk music, song, and dance in Scotland. Following the events in Glasgow, I wanted to continue these conversations and proposed a series of monthly blog posts. It’s hope this series will be a place for dialogue around the intersections of traditional arts, identity, and each artists’ path as a LGBT+ person. Our final Bogha-frois conversationalist is Joseph Peach! 

Tell me a story... what was a moment when you felt both your identity as a traditional musician and your identity as a LGBTQIA+ person were in focus? (1)

This is such a rare thing, so far at least. Until very recently, I haven't really seen even that a meeting of these two aspects of myself might be necessary, or indeed possible. The Bogha-frois gig at Celtic Connections was certainly one of these times though, it was an amazing and beautiful celebration. I was really surprised by how profoundly moving it felt to be part of a big group of LGBTQIA+ folkies playing music together, and for this aspect of our identities to be what had brought us there. Thinking about it, music- traditional music in particular, has so far been the biggest factor in making my identity, far more than the fact of being an LGBTQIA+ person. I think that's for a couple of reasons. I've been playing music since before I can remember, but I've only been aware and accepted that I was gay for a comparatively short amount of time. I've found understanding and reconciling this fact to be a process that is much more complex, and definitely still ongoing. To me, being a musician is everything: It's a passion, art, creating, a purpose in life, and way of life. If it was only a job, I'd be doing something else like practicing law, and being paid far more to work far more regular hours. More than ever before, the past few years have been a time of discovery creatively; finding worlds of artists and work to listen to, read, see and watch; things to admire, and be moved and inspired by. They have also been a time of doing more learning, playing, and making music. And what I’m really starting to understand, from work that inspire me, and the work that I make, is that for this whole notion of doing something like this only works if everything feeds in quite unfiltered. In a very roundabout way, I guess what I'm trying to say is that as getting comfy with the LGBTQIA+ aspect of myself continues, that of course there needs to be much more space and consideration for these two identities overlap.

How do you identify? What are the pronouns, descriptors or other words you like to use, if any, to describe yourself in regard to your LGBTQIA+ status.

I'm a (mostly) gay, cisgendered man I suppose, and the pronouns I use are he/him/his.

(photo of Joseph Peach by Somhairle MacDonald)

Talk about your perceptions of LGBTQIA+ identity (both yours and others) within your experience playing traditional music in Scotland.

Perception, especially self-perception is something I find very hard. I'm prone to being quite negative in how I see myself, and massively overthinking (usually in a negative way) my own notion of how other people see me- as a musician, person, and everything else. This is probably going to be a bit of a left field (and very long) answer, but relevant I think. It’s quite telling that when first reading the question that my mind immediately went towards anxiety. I think that for me, so much of what causes and triggers anxiety is to do with being a musician, and being gay. So, the musician thing. To me it is such a deeply personal thing, playing an instrument. How and why you do it is something wrapped up in the very fabric of you. And the nature of doing it for a living is one of always putting yourself out there- putting this really personal thing in all sorts of situations where people can hear and judge it. This is a bit terrifying sometimes, and it becomes a challenge not to be totally overwhelmed by the swirling thoughts that come with thinking about it too much- mainly that I’m doing a shit job, and that the people around me can see and hear that. This can present a major problem, but thankfully not all of the time. One of the things I love the most about the bands and collaborators with which I’m most regularly and seriously involved, are the levels of friendship, support, understanding, and trust which make these emotions fade in to the background, and make the space to focus on the things that are actually important. It’s all a question of perspective about perception I think, and there’s a real challenge in that.

And the gay thing. To my knowledge, there’s never been a better time to be LGBTQIA+, and arguably, in terms of rights, protection, and legislation, you’d struggle to find a better place than Scotland. Sadly, you don't have to look too far, to see very present, worrying and heartbreaking examples where being LGBTQIA+ is literally a threat to your life. So I’m extremely lucky to be where I am, when I am. In the great scheme of things though this comfort and protection is a very recent thing. Even in this progressive country we’re emerging from centuries of this sort of otherness being feared and abhorred- an abomination and illegal; something society said to be ashamed of. Thankfully, for all sorts of reasons that I really don’t know enough about, it feels that as society we’re moving away from this pretty quickly, and have been for a while. But certainly when I was growing up (and I’m sure being from a small rural place is part of it), I always had the impression that being some form of LGBTQIA+, (probably not described in such sympathetic terms) was something to be ashamed of. I was told that, saw it in the complete absence of any such people in the community, and heard it in the way such folk were talked about. Of course it’s a problem far bigger than that specific place. A problem it’s hard to see an end to until we stop raising children to expect that they’ll be straight and cisgendered.

I’m really interested in the Suzuki method. Much of it is based on the notion that it is possible to learn music in the same deeply natural way one learns their native language- by immersion, observation and impersonation. And it's so true- we do learn our first language like this. As a child, you become an expert in speaking your language through this deep and unconscious process. By this same principle, I managed to pick up a whole bunch of shame about being gay. My teenage years were spent agonizing about it, resenting it, and feeling quite isolated because of it; worrying about how others would see me, and tying myself in knots about how I saw myself. These things are ongoing I suppose- it's a lot to unlearn. The understanding and perspective that time and learning brings are hugely helpful, but working on my perception of myself in this way is definitely also still a work in progress.

(trailer for Joseph’s forthcoming record Air Iomall with fiddler Charlie Grey made in collaboration with filmmaker Hamish Macleod)

In what ways do you feel your identity as a LGBTQIA+ person and a traditional musician intersect, overlap, engage?

I’m really attracted to music that's quite absolute, just existing to be a wee world of its own, on its own terms, and that makes you go fuck, that’s amazing as an entity in its own right, not as an abstraction of something else. To me that’s lots of piano music, classical things, electronic things, and of course, much of traditional music.

My attitude until quite recently has been that it'd be hard to make any sort of explicit overlap between this sort of music and anything LGBTQIA+. If it is just music for its own sake, how can you make it queer, straight, or anything else for that matter? This is maybe the wrong way of looking at it though- if everything feeds in to music in some way, so being LGBTQIA+ must, even in small ways.

One place this is maybe quite concretely the case is in how I speak and move. It’s an idea that’s crossed my mind quite recently, when I was watching back a film that involves a lot of chat. I don’t often hear myself speak outside of my own head, so watching I was quite struck by how my voice sounded- it was quite camp. I don't mean that negatively- camp as an insult is bullshit from a toxic notion of heteronormative masculinity.

And I notice it too when I see myself playing the piano, the same sort of campness. Granted, I think being quite anxious can make me pretty hyper-aware, so maybe it's not so obvious to other folk. But playing music is a physical thing, so it’s maybe actually really nice that there are ways using my body to do that, or my voice to speak about it that come from an LGBTQIA+ identity. Noticing and valuing these small things already feels like something quite profound.  

Talk about your experience connecting with other LGBTQIA+ folks both inside and outside the traditional arts.

I'm extremely lucky in the community around me in Glasgow- I feel very part of something musically and socially. For me, connecting with LGBTQIA+ people is never something I've really consciously sought out- as with everyone else, it just happens over the course of day to day life. Other than accidentally ending up at Pride in Vienna a few years ago, and deliberately going to the Glasgow one once, the Bogha-frois gig was the only time really I’ve been involved in a gathering centered around LGBTQIA+ identity, and certainly a first time it’s been about music. And there was something unexpectedly and completely amazing about that.

If you’re comfortable sharing, talk about any incidents of homophobia or transphobia that you’ve witnessed both inside and outside the traditional arts.

I've been very lucky, sheltered, or possibly both in how little of this I’ve experienced, to my face at least. Within the scene within which I live and work, it's barely ever more than some off-colour jokes. When I was young, I think there was a lot of homophobic language, in school and in the community in which I lived- again this rarely amounted to more than off-colour jokes, but sometimes you’d know the sentiment was serious.

In all honesty, the worst homophobia I've experienced was probably levelled at me by me, during the younger years of coming to terms with my sexuality. That feels like quite a drastic thing to write, and when I think back to that time my inclination is to downplay it, but this is definitely no overstatement.

How do you see the traditional arts changing in regard to LGBTQIA+ people? What are the further changes you would like to see?

Malin Lewis said something really interesting in their answer to this question, about a link between some of what we’re talking about here, and the much needed discussion around women in traditional music that's been a big topic in trad scene over the past couple of years. My mind was really blown when the conversation started a couple of years ago. I had so little idea of the privilege I was enjoying in comparison to my female counterparts. It was quite an eye opener in a much wider way towards the workings of privilege in the world around us. It's kind of everywhere- systemic and entrenched societally, but also very individual- on the scales of privilege and disadvantage we all win and lose in different ways. It's a bit of a fucked situation, and I don’t know what the answer is, but what I don't think helps is denial. I think the most useful thing, for our own folky world, but also in the widest possible way, is simply acknowledging the privileges you have, being aware that they might be what allows you to occupy your space, and that they might well create a barrier that prevents other folk from also occupying that space.

You can learn more about Joseph and his music at www.joseph-peach.com.

First Footing is a collaboration between dancer and dance researcher Nic Gareiss, the Traditional Dance Forum of Scotland, University of Edinburgh Moray House School of Education, and the School of Scottish Studies with support from Creative Scotland. For engagement opportunities check out the First Footing website.

(1) Following methodology developed by Fiona Buckland in her book Impossible Dance: Club Culture and Queer World-making, I began each conversation asking artists to tell me a story. This, Buckland reminds us, redistributes significance to the voice of the artist, rather than the anthropologist/researcher/interviewer. In Buckland’s words, “the meanings they made from the practices are more crucial than whatever meaning I impose with the theoretical tools in my standard issue doctoral utility belt.” (Buckland 2002, p. 11) This feels incredibly important when collaborating with folks whose voices have so often been underheard or marginalized.