I ended up at Bikini Kill’s concert 10/28/95 because I was hiding from the cops.
I was fresh off a break-up with my first love, in everyone’s life that first break-up is like staring in the co-dependent mirror and I was seeing Ted Bundy stare back. I needed to get out of the house, and in Olympia that nite, October 28, 1995, I ended up in a dance club called Thekla, a Greek name meaning glory of god or something like that. It was Halloween weekend so even the queer Fijian cross-dresser that typically dressed up in some Carmen Mirandan type get-up wasn’t alone; the place was full of queers with no fears and it was a lot of fun.
I just happened to see my ex and she refused to look at me, let alone talk, and it set me off into male chest beating syndrome. I eventually left and ended up punching out a window at a place called the Tea Lady’s, or at least was once called that, down the street, I wasn’t heading anywhere, just away. I had no idea what was happening to me, why I was acting like this and how
I ended up behind a dumpster in an ally hiding from all the damage I had done, not only that nite but with someone I didn’t want to lose a friendship with, crying like the pussy my father always called me. I knew one thing I needed a place to hide out and across the street was a The Capitol Theatre and a band called Bikini Kill was playing.
It was an altering event for me. I was loaded on a cocktail of varietals, hiding from some vandalism I did, and myself, and I didn’t want to be noticed for anything including the blood that was all over my clothes (I love Halloween you can get away with anything that nite). I avoided the mosh pit of edgy Lilith Faire chicks and sat on the side of the stage, in the shadows, away from everything and just listened. That’s when Kathleen Hanna hit me with her words.
It’s weird in that Kathleen’s not a person that touches you in waves it’s more like graffitti; she tags you, then you sit back and think about what just happened and then it affects you. What makes Kathleen and Bikini Kill so unique, so special and so fucking important when talking about where we are at as individuals is that they make you want to think about what was said, they gave it energy, they make it seem important to figure out.
I followed Bikini Kill to their next concert at the Paramount in Seattle with Sonic Youth and The Breeders, the Dayton Peace accord was just signed and it was huge. Almost too huge, there was too much of a gap between the Kill and their audience, the words felt muffled even though my ears ached. That’s another thing the made the Kill so important, they didn’t mind intimate events, in fact they were at their best when they were hovering over you.
That’s my story, an f’up from Aberdeen who loved the Melvins and Fitz of Depression ended up at Bikini Kill’s concert 10/28/95 because I was hiding from the cops. Kathleen made fun of me for one moment but also shouted a bunch of ideas with a tight group she had playing behind her and it started me on a path I still lead today. I wish they were still around today because the baton was dropped by someone I just don’t know who to blame yet but I can’t thank them enough for their impact on me that’s ever present.
BTW that chick that broke up with and wouldn’t talk to me the nite of the concert is still a friend 15 years later and I think some of it is due to trying to understand her better. Thank you Bikini Kill for all your messages and great music, now go f’ yourselves!