Hardcore Networks
Federico Gomez is an Argentinean-Israeli-Swedish hardcore punk rocker who has fronted the influential Israeli hardcore bands Nekhei Naatza (1990-97), Dir Yassin (1998-2001), and Smartut Kahol Lavan (2002-06). Together with his brother Santiago he was a driving force in the development of a radical hardcore punk/straight edge underground in Israel in the 1990s. Today he lives in Falun, Sweden.
I was eleven. The reason we—my mother, brother and I—moved to Israel was that my father was kidnapped and killed by the military regime. My mother thought about starting a new life with another person in a different environment. But we were never Zionists and our criticism towards the country began already in our teens, a bit after the Intifada broke out—which was around the same time we discovered punk.
To be honest, although I really liked the idea of straight edge as one of the possibilities/philosophies of hardcore punk, I never felt “committed” to it, even after technically becoming straight edge. I was never too interested in smoking and doing drugs. I did drink a bit during high school and the couple of years following my graduation. However, I stopped when it became clear that I didn’t need to go to pubs anymore to have a social life: the Israeli punk scene took off and I made friends with people who I shared more than just a space, cigarette smoke and liquids with. Another factor for not drinking anymore was probably my disgust with the apathetic, drunk punk losers that the scene had a fair share of.
I think that my interest in punk/hardcore came from two different sources. One, a love for loud rock music. Two, an interest in various socio-political issues. During my early teenage years, I began exploring pop music and then rock. My discovery of punk came when I was looking for a rawer and more honest type of rock, so punk/hardcore seemed tailor-made for me. Its contradictions and ambiguities just made it more interesting and appealing, while some of the more political bands such as Conflict and Dead Kennedys had a really big impact on my thinking. (Image 25.1)
Image 25.1: I Shot Cyrus (Brazil), São Paulo, 2009 Daigo Oliva
Concerning politics in general, I grew up in a family of political activists and was interested in politics and social change since a very early age. The anarchism that punk fanzines talked about made much more sense to me than the radical left-wing ideas I had previously been exposed to. The more I learned about the development of punk, its different scenes and the ideas of the people involved in it, the more I considered it to be one of the best and definitely most interesting possible expressions of anarchism. Regardless of whether you had a circle-A painted on your pants or whether you were in a group objecting to radical politics, I saw punk at least as a healthy anarchic injection of political and social criticism, solidarity, iconoclasm and artistic nihilism into the tradition of rock’n’roll, emphasizing this tradition’s DIY aspect. I never thought that punk/hardcore (or any kind of music, for that matter) will change the world, but I always thought that it can serve as a network for those who, among other things, want radical political and social change.
When I found out about straight edge, it totally made sense for me as an extension of personal responsibility and social critique—themes that many punk/hardcore bands were singing about in different contexts. When I read zines from the late 1980s—the time when my brother, a friend and myself got into punk/hardcore—and the early 1990s, the criticism against straight edge seemed so idiotic (which surprised me since they were mostly coming from “political” punks) that I probably began developing a sympathy for it just because of the sheer idiocy of its detractors. The fact that some of the best hardcore bands at the time were either straight edge or labeled as such (I’m obviously referring to the early Revelation stuff) made me even more interested in finding out about this sub-genre of hardcore punk.
However, looking back at it, I think that what we understood as straight edge, based on the bits and pieces of information we had, was more sophisticated than what the bands—or the odd sXe zine we managed to get—had to say about it. It became apparent pretty soon that the “youth crew” bands and their scene had removed themselves from “punk” in the sense that they had dropped the sarcasm, contradictions and idiosyncrasies for a “healthy lifestyle for the youth.” Although I liked the music of Judge, Chain of Strength, Wide Awake, Youth of Today, Gorilla Biscuits and many others, I thought that their lyrics and attitudes were lacking much of what I saw as interesting, important and defining in punk.
As a result, I would say that my personal understanding of straight edge was not the one you encountered in the straight edge scene. There were merely partial overlaps. My perspective focused on personal responsibility, freedom and control, and not on some kind of dogma to follow. I’m not saying that the vast majority of the people involved in the straight edge movement, or the vast majority of the people who define themselves as straight edge, were simple-minded bigots. In fact, most people I have met who identify as straight edge or have sympathies for it are among the most inspiring and nicest people I have ever met. Furthermore, most stories about “idiotic straight edge guys who beat up drinkers” are urban legends invented by conformist and boring punk kids.
Still, a movement of sorts emerged where people did actually spend hours debating whether to drink coffee or to eat liquor-filled candy made you lose “the edge.” A lot of the implications of this scene were ridiculous to me: all the religious and millenarian metaphors, the focus on single issues that were disconnected from any wider perspective, the self-involvement of Western upper class kids and how seriously they took everything—at least for some months until they moved to the newer fad.
Sure, I thought it was fun sometimes to use sXe sloganeering as a means to piss off drunken losers and glue sniffers, but for the most part I had lost interest in what straight edge had to offer by the mid-90s. Musically and aesthetically, I had always been much more impressed by the rage and fucked-upness of early 80s hardcore—and the nihilistic fun of 70s punk—than by the “clean-cut youth” image that most sXe bands chose. And then, when sXe bands began to play metal instead of angry hardcore and when most of them became derivative and lacked any sense of urgency, I simply began to ignore the straight edge scene altogether. Well, that’s maybe not entirely true. But if I followed some of what was going on, then more as a phenomenon than as something I felt inspired by—the hardline stuff is a good example for that.
In general, during the 1990s I was much more into listening to early 1980s straight edge bands like Minor Threat, SSD, DYS, 7 Seconds, Uniform Choice and others, and to the early Revelation/late 1980s youth crew stuff; I hardly listened to anything that came out of Upstate New York or Cleveland. There were some good 1990s sXe bands, such as ManLiftingBanner, Nations on Fire, Refused, Sairaat Mielet in Finland, Personal Choice in Brazil, and a few more, but I guess it is pretty safe to say that they all felt out of place or marginalized within the wider sXe scene.
After having lived for several years in Sweden, I find the “night culture” and the drinking even more repulsive and destructive than before. My tolerance for drunken people has become very low and I try to avoid being around them as much as I can. But this does not mean that I see alcohol as an “evil substance” in a religious/taboo sense. Again, arguments about whether straight edgers can use wine for cooking or whether it is “allowed” to taste a cocktail still only amuse me. As I said before, I never cared for cigarettes or drugs, and while I will never support moves to prohibit them, I’m still glad that my right to breathe less polluted air has been recognized. It took me a while to go from being a vegetarian (which I started during my last year in high school) to being a vegan (which I have been for over seven years now) but I’m happy and proud to live a life rejecting animal exploitation as much as I can.
The “Upper Galilee Anarchist Brigade” was a name we first used jokingly to sign anti-racist letters we sent to a mainstream youth magazine. However, somehow it stuck and we continued using it for publishing zines, booklets and tapes. How did straight edge relate to it? Given my non-militant brand of sXe, I guess it just struck a strong personal chord with me and I adapted and integrated it into my life—and that means my political life as well. But I usually didn’t see any point in discussing it unless provoked.
To be a little more concrete, I think that the issue of personal responsibility was particular important and this was also something I discussed in different contexts, for example in the band I was in. However, I never attempted to win “members” for the “sXe movement,” or claimed that sXe would be a solution for all personal and social problems and dilemmas.
I think that it would be unfair to talk too much about a scene which I never really took active part in and don’t even know so well. It is true that I was always very interested in the Argentine punk/hardcore scene and that the articles about it in the Argentine political newspapers that were sent to my mom were crucial in developing my interest in punk in general. But save some exceptions—N.D.I.’s Extremo Sur for example—I could never get into the Argentine straight edge scene because I saw it as too influenced by the metallic, New York, early 1990s type of sXe hardcore that I never really cared too much for. I’m sure though that my prejudice made me miss some good stuff and that I will eventually catch up with it; but in general terms, I think that compared to the interesting 1980s punk/hardcore scene, the 1990s weren’t such a great time for the Argentine scene.
Yes, that was exactly my impression and the reason why I was not really interested in that whole scene. Unfortunately, I haven’t really kept up with the developments since, so I’m not sure what’s happening right now.
I was in touch with Pedro from—among other bands—I Shot Cyrus through the internet and thanks to him and Frederico from Point of No Return, I managed to get contacts in Brazil, Uruguay and Chile, and ended up meeting lots of people there. I have to say that I was very impressed with what I saw. I also learned a lot about the social and political situation, having access to various different perspectives that many travelers may not have. The hardcore/punk/straight edge scene in Brazil was one of the best, if not the best, scene I ever visited, in every possible aspect one can think of. Basically all the people I had the pleasure of talking to seemed very interested in socio-political issues, and the majority were politically active in various forms—without ever limiting themselves to mere catchphrases. There also seemed to be a lot of solidarity within the scene(s) as well as with other political groups and organizations. Both the bands and the audiences I experienced were enthusiastic and fun, and despite the economic hardships that many scenesters have to struggle with—or perhaps because of them—things appeared really well organized.
Alternatives to both the mainstream entertainment industry and capitalist or authoritarian politics are vital for our survival as free individuals and I think that punk/hardcore/straight edge movements can serve as networks to discuss, develop and implement these.
There have been a lot of changes concerning the place and role of so-called subcultures. Many of them have been co-opted and with respect to punk/hardcore it sometimes seems as it has turned into a “timeless bubble, where all vanishes in one big, consumer friendly blur,” to quote from Erich Megawimp’s blog. I hope this tendency will diminish, as there is still much to gain from the continuation of punk/hardcore. In any case, networks for people to challenge the status quo and to share honest, non-commercial forms of art will certainly continue to exist, no matter what they are called.
I believe that the experiences of the people involved in punk/hardcore/straight edge during the first decades of these movements may serve as an inspiration and a strong critical basis necessary for the development of anti-authoritarian currents; hopefully this book will make a contribution to that.