History Mixtapes: Punk and Precarity with Chris Deutsch

In the third episode of 'History Mixtapes,' host Katherine Rye Jewell and historian Chris Deutsch explore the intertwined histories of punk rock, hardcore music, and the political economy of the late 20th century. They discuss the origins of punk, key bands like the Ramones and Minor Threat, the ethos of DIY and selling out, and the cultural significance of music compilations. Chris shares his mixtape featuring songs that channel the precarity of different eras and the evolving punk scene, particularly bands that responded by forming their own alternative institutions, while touching on his own experiences with music and history.

00:00 History Mixtapes: Punk and Precarity with Chris Deutsch
05:51 The Ramones
10:46 The DC Scene and Minor Threat
17:26 NOFX
26:04 Propagandhi
30:41 Bonus Track
33:16 Last Question

Chapters

• 5:50 The Ramones

Transcript

Kate Jewell: 0:00

Welcome to the History Mixtapes, a podcast about when music and history meet. I'm Katherine Rye Jewell, a historian of the business and politics of culture, an author of Live from the Underground, a history of college radio. This is episode three, which delves into the relationship between punk, hardcore, and political economy at the end of the 20th century. To get into the subject, I turned to a historian who I have long thought of as one of the best advocates for underground music, which is alive and well, as well as an expert on the economy of the years, the punk developed.

Chris Deutsch: 0:41

Hello, my name is Chris Deutsch. I am a historian working at the University of Missouri Kinder Institute on constitutional democracy, in a post doc position where I'm helping the DPAA with its mission to identify and return the remains of missing service personnel. I'm writing a manuscript on beef politics and policy from roughly Great Depression into the Reagan era. The book is tentatively titled Beeftopia: The Red Meat Politics of Prosperity in Cold War America I think even before I knew I loved history, I knew I loved music. Whether it was being like the only kindergartner in love with the Police, and Synchronicity back in the early 80s, or discovering punk rock for the first time, music has informed my identity. I remember reading Metallica lyrics to try to understand what"Blackened" meant. An environmental song, or how to understand"Injustice for All," or One's anti war messages. And, once I discovered punk rock, I found the music that really spoke to me. And so since then I've just been super into music, go to live performances and tried to start many bands. So music is a pretty important part of my identity.

Kate Jewell: 1:47

So until I gave you this task, how did you understand the relationship between your history work and your music life.

Chris Deutsch: 1:55

Uh, reinforcing each other, but also as a future research potential. It helped generate the topics I was interested in. It helped focus my concepts and my engagement, and it's helped reinforce what I do when I'm kind of unsure of myself. And as a side note music is very important for how I shape and conceptualize myself as a teacher and how I act in the classroom.

Kate Jewell: 2:18

As somebody who I know has a deep affinity with punk rock in all of its current and past manifestations, I was really curious to get your take on the theme of, I guess I said precarity or something like that, how people of different moments use music to confront that status, whatever that means in that particular political economy. So I ask people to tell a story with three or four songs.

Chris Deutsch: 2:49

The question required me to do something that punk rock demands, but I always find a little uncomfortable, is being honest with who I am, where I'm at, and what I really think. And it's weird to think of it that way, because as historians we are so invested in other people's lives and other people's interiority that it can be kind of difficult to peel back those layers to get beyond using, in some ways, dangerously, other people as shadow puppets for ourselves. Long story short, I felt myself pulled in many different directions. And I've got an extensive B sides, that's like 10 or plus songs to take a lengthy journey through political economy, songs, punk rock, capitalism. I see myself almost in a tension between your idea of a mixtape versus a compilation. I got into punk rock because there was like a$1 compilation. And compilations going back to the late 70s are definitive ways to be introduced to punk rock. When the albums were costing like a buck for 20 amazing songs, some of the best songs that every band has produced, it was easy to get, right? So I find myself thinking in tension there where it is somewhat a mixtape in the sense that it's my personal construction of the music landscape for my own consumption, but at the same time, it's a compilation in the sense that I'm authoring something, which is to look at how, in the moment of precarity, what people did in the face of that precarity.

Kate Jewell: 4:15

Those compilations captured a particular moment in vibrancy in a scene, maybe out of a particular club or surrounding a college town, or bands that were influencing one another. The song I was thinking of at this moment is called"Hilary's Eyebrows" by Phranc. It was off the Some Songs compilation from Kill Rockstars. Which had singles that featured bands like Elliot Smith, Frumpies, Peechees, Heavens to Betsy, and Unwound. Released in September 1997, it was one of the first compilations I bought when I went to college and entered the world of college radio. On it was a song by that folk singer and songwriter Phranc recorded during the early years of the Clinton administration. It reflected a political sensibility of the punk scene towards national politics at that moment, ideas about women's leadership and gender. And it also captured the Northwest music scene and underground culture of that moment.

Chris Deutsch: 5:41

I'm definitely not going to offer up songs that are all like, the Boston scene of 77 or SSD Control or, you know, the Chicago scene.

Kate Jewell: 5:51

In fact Chris's first song on his playlist is a classic. It's the Ramones,"Blitzkrieg Bop," probably one of the most recognizable punk songs from the 1970s. Here's how Chris explains why he starts here.

Chris Deutsch: 6:04

It's arguably, I guess, the first commercially available and knowable punk rock song on the first punk rock album for what is ostensibly the first punk rock band. I mean, Sex Pistols, Ramones, whatever. But ultimately I think"Blitzkrieg Bop" sets the tone, in a way that resonates and it creates waves that make it this important moment. And what makes it connect between the precarity of it all is if the Staying Alive," discotheque scene are people in their mid twenties dealing with the decaying urban environment of New York City, where it almost went bankrupt and the federal government was not interested in saving the nation's most important urban area. Massive transformations within the city basically started robbing it of its blue collar jobs that had been so important to the city's health. Well, what happens if you're a little bit younger? A little bit more removed from that industrial economy and those were jobs that you weren't necessarily going to get but maybe you would and the complex relationship between masculinity and jobs and the decaying economy. I think the Ramones really speak to that. And what's the precarity answer? It's to scrabble together as much money as you can for cheap beer and throwing yourself into the crowd and removing yourself from the harsh reality of a economy that's grinding your hopes into dust.

Kate Jewell: 7:45

Of course, punk has a politics in 76 and 77, but it didn't wear it on its sleeve in the U S the way that it did in the UK. So I'm curious what, like, how do you interpret the sound of Blitzkrieg Bop My kids will put it on and they're like, jumping around. When you were growing up, when you first heard this song, did you understand it as a product of this? When did you become aware of the subtext of the Ramones?

Chris Deutsch: 8:11

Definitely as a teenager, I'm young enough that I was exposed to this as pop bop music, not rebellious, get drunk and wasted music. Not the danger it represented. I experienced it as its commercial side. Phil Spector's already gotten their hands in the Ramones by the time I'm exposed to them. Rock and Roll High School's already a thing. Heck, the sequel's already out. As I got into punk rock was right as the Ramones basically wrapped up. So they were not high on my list to understand and explore and unpack. I was definitely coming from a different thirst, a different desire, a different something else to speak to me

Kate Jewell: 8:45

I think we're probably around the same age as I'm connecting the dots here. So those looking back at this previous generation of punk, which were our older brothers and sisters, or maybe even parents age who are producing a lot of this music, I think a lot of the histories that have been written so far of punk and punk politics in the 70s and 80s have been written much like those first histories of the counterculture, were written by participants. Now we're starting to see those of us who came out in punk's wake starting to tell this history. That's why it's interesting that you start with the Ramones and"Blitzkrieg Bop," because we start with this concept that punk did have a national profile, that it cut across some of these different scenes. So the people who are writing these histories of punk, they're very much grounded in those sub genres of hardcore or certain punk scenes and punk sounds. Selecting punk songs to stand for the whole genre is hard. It's especially hard when looking at a scene like Washington DC in the early 1980s. And in particular, the band Minor Threat, headed by Ian MacKaye who also found the punk label Discord Records. Notoriously anti commercial, McKaye and Minor Threat injected, a specific critique of the music industry and modeled an alternative to it, while also demonstrating a personal philosophy. These are cathartic songs, designed to express raw emotion. Yet they are also, through their philosophy of straight edge, eschewing drugs and alcohol for a sort of a ascetic lifestyle, grasping for some kind of control the songs were short, fast, loud, and released on seven inches. To pinpoint a particular philosophy amidst precarity for young men in one song is hard, as Chris demonstrates when trying to select his next song for the mixed tape from Minor Threat's body of work. He suggests just two songs, at first,"Straight-edge" and"Out of Step," and ultimately selects one.

Chris Deutsch: 10:46

They're both kind of the same song. When you talk about Ian McKay's philosophy, and what he did, both are used at the same time. But if I had to pick, I guess"Straight Edge," because I think it's more immediately grabbable. If we're talking about precarity, a bunch of blue collar, suburban, non insider, non government D. C. residents who McKay definitely goes out of his way to say that has no connections to that side of D. C. His response to the precarity and the way his peers were growing up, working at Haagen Dazs and such and, becoming that first generation of Americans whose early training in fast food service is setting up a lifelong pattern. His response, unlike the Ramones, which was to sign to a major, maybe the apocryphal story of the gun to the head isn't necessarily accurate, but at least it captures how the Ramones felt. That they had economic pressures that they had to meet. And the Wikipedia article, because I was double checking some Ramones facts, tells a really compelling story, it's one of those Wikipedia stories where some editor clearly had a vision and they've managed to keep that vision, right? There's invisible historians of a sorts. And it's of the Ramones turning down Epitaph Records, instead they went with this other label. Because like I said, when I first met the Ramones, they were known as has beens and legacies. And I guess Epitaph wanted to revive their career. And so there's this tension in this Ramones history where their pursuit of economic uh, success out of precarity puts people who abuse and misuse and don't let them build themselves the way they want. And I think Minor Threat, Ian McKay, is exactly the opposite. If signing to a major indicates the loss of control over their economic destiny, Minor Threat's choices, Ian McKay's choices, and we can, I can isolate him more than the other members because I think maybe unfairly, he is the one who managed to craft his own destiny from Minor Threat. His creation of a D. I. Y. ethic inside of hardcore transformed punk by giving a vision for how to handle your own music. Your music is yours. It's ours. It's a community. And this community exists for a moment and we're done. Like, Minor Threat doesn't play again and they're done. Like, the last time you could see Minor Threat play was, what, like, 83? 84? I forget the last show. And then he was on to Embrace, some other stuff, and then he was on to, of course, Fugazi, which, he did manage to do for, what, 15 years, completely transforming alternative music in their own way. What I see in Minor Threat is this answer to the Ramones' loss of control of their own destiny is to utterly reject the precarity by crafting their own. So as I like to think of it, and this is definitely the future work I'd like to do is explore this, if I see punk rock and particularly hardcore as existing in the tension between capitalist consumer economy and community, Ian McKaye kind of navigated those by crafting a business entity around that tension and not giving in to the pressures.

Kate Jewell: 13:53

When I started writing about college radio, I really thought that this was going to be the dynamic that was at the center of the book.: The politics of selling out was originally the subtitle of the book. And very quickly, I realized that college radio was its own thing outside of those conversations. When Minor Threat was putting out records, they were not looking to get played on college radio. It was not on their radar at all. You couldn't even play most of the songs on college radio for one thing because they all contain the F word, but that wasn't even something that they were conceptualizing, right? They weren't promoting to college radio stations. Now, lots of college stations did pick up on that. To a certain extent that politics does come in and define a lot of the aesthetics of college radio and how many participants see their own politics and their own place within the market. But college radio itself as an entity is always much more mainstream and commercial than I think a lot of the participants wanted to think that they were. We were anti-everything corporate, commercial fm, MTV, major labels, all of it.

Chris Deutsch: 15:06

And that's what I like about the Minor Threat story is as important as the Ramones were for the New York City scene writ large, bringing all the boroughs together, but as Minor Threat shows, or reveals, I should say, because shows is a bad word to use when we talk about punk. As Minor Threat reveals, that intentional community building had to happen. You had to give someone a tape or a seven inch, you couldn't rely on airwaves, on corporations, on someone looking to make money off of your choices. Calling, sharing, giving out. That built punk as we know it, that transformed music from this dodgy thing that only people like the Ramones might luckily get to, to something where you could just literally take a four track, record four different parts, slap it together in the most brutal way possible and start giving it out. And suddenly you've got youth culture transformed, and in a way that is commercially viable, the vultures, etc. certainly will circle. Minor Threat gave it that heart, and that spirit, and that drive to own your own destiny that way, precarity can either give you the dissolution of a no future, or the desire to claw your way out somehow, and community is one way to do it. That that 70s moment, the CBGBs era of punk that spawned so many different types of legacies. I think about Duff McKagan of Guns and Roses, was a denizen of that scene, right? He was a band called the Farts with a Z on the end,

Kate Jewell: 16:28

All right. Sorry. At this point, I had said the word farts, which meant I had to go giggle for a minute. But it's true that the Fartz were a great early punk band who legendary DJ turned major label rep Tim Sommer played on WNYU radio in the early 1980s. But it was clear from our conversation, by this point was punk was going to provide an aesthetic and a community to explore multiple kinds of identities under pressure in an era of austerity and precarity-- the range of which Chris demonstrates in his exploration of how this link plays out, musically, for other groups in the context of the 1990s.

Chris Deutsch: 17:26

,As problematic as it entails, because, obviously, NoFX is a big bag of problematic on all levels, on all fronts, at every turn. But, still, a queer punk band, as much as it may be surprising to say that, especially if you listen to their 90s output, where they're on that Bill Maher anti feminism, anti Bikini Kill rant era. They really are a queer band, and they center queer politics in their own rough and tumble L. A. working class way. The band comes from the L. A. scene, where a really jokey, drug fueled, drug dealing band becomes the center of an expansive globalization of punk that happens as a result of the hardcore punk to the post hardcore ish sort of Meat Puppets y thing to Nirvana to Green Day and Offspring, with Rancid, Bad Religion, and NOFX being beneficiaries of that uplift. NOFX, speaking of what Ian McKay did, does the same thing. At one point, Fat Mike tells it, he said to his bandmates, I'm going to make more money than you, but we're going to put all our records out on our label, so we're not going to have any other label pressure at all. In doing that, he joins the ranks of bands that create labels, and he defines the 90s sound. NOFX manages to help transform punk into this SoCal skater sound in the way that Black Flag couldn't quite do. The new kind of punk rock that emerges is one very much rooted in that SoCal sound, and is able to distribute, and to flourish, and help bands go from being good bands with some potential to actually having a huge impact. And this is a great time to also mention, this is the CD era This is where the music industry is making ungodly amounts of money on album sales. If you look at the money in music, the nineties is the peak. And NOFX manages to capture that energy and funnel it into bands who managed to release an album or two on of these labels and they're not necessarily set for life as I understand it, but they're pretty close. And that puts the punk idea into a blender. I think that's why things like sellout are such important concepts in the nineties, because there was money in them their hills. So the majors were ing around to try to extract more and more wealth, which they did to great extremes mirroring the ways the Ramones experience precarity, which is a nihilistic out into this wider world that they didn't really have a lot of community Minor Threat did, NOFX kind of created safe harbors for some people

Kate Jewell: 20:22

For those of us who are very East Coast grounded, I know enough to get in trouble when it comes to the different California scenes. But how do you understand the geography and maybe some of the class profiles of some of these different communities with the music scenes?

Chris Deutsch: 20:37

Yeah. I mean, I'm NorCal myself, but I think the larger trajectory is, all of these areas of L. A., these suburbanized, post war kind of Levittowns where veterans got homes in L. A. for 5 percent down. And so L. A.'s kickstarted. By the 70s, it's coming on hard times. California's economy regarding taxes around housing value is a mess. And going into the 80s, there's this kind of broken home syndrome that Californians grapple with in a really big way. And it sets up the tone for punk rock.

Kate Jewell: 21:12

When I searched for the next song and Chris's playlist, Institutionalized" by Suicidal Tendencies, the search engine directed me to a helpline for those in crisis. But I think it helps capture the youthful desperation that punk and hardcore channeled in the 1980s and 1990s, which I will be going into in more depth in a future episode with historian Kyle Riismandel.

Chris Deutsch: 22:48

"Institutionalized" is about parents as the institutionalization method and means. This creates a kind of, breeding ground where all of the communities across L. A. start generating their own sounds, their own styles. First with Art Damage, and then the Hermosa Beach sound, which Black Flag comes from. But by the early Nineties, I wouldn't say it's homogenized, but definitely a certain kind of fast paced, metal infused version is emerging, which the Offspring really capture. And by 94, that becomes region wide.

Kate Jewell: 23:19

It's interesting to think about the difference between young people in the 70s and young people in the 90s. Punks were seen as problem children. They weren't a generational phenomenon in the same sense that in the 90s you could commercialize some of these aesthetics and think more broadly about a bigger kind of youth culture rooted in an aesthetics of dissent that's drawn from a real place of dissent of latchkey kids, nuclear annihilation and that charged political atmosphere of the Reagan 80s. By the 90s, the tech economy takes off, but it cements that haves and have nots of the economy of a place like San Francisco, say, or the Bay area where you tremendous levels of wealth that are being created, whereas ordinary workers in that economy are unable to live in that economy that's been created. And so that you can start talking about a disaffected generation, and at the same time that you have Gen Xers building the Internet and building things like social media companies, and Google and all of things they're all built by Gen Xers. So there's these really interesting dichotomies, I think. You can draw a line from NoFX to Blink 182, which becomes a huge band.

Chris Deutsch: 24:37

San Diego is the scene that produced the hyper radio pop of Blink 182, but also produced Screamo, P 99, and a scene, grounded in places like Chez Café, where there's a lot of social justice orientation, so San Diego's got a very complex scene, especially that takes root by the mid to late 90s in a way that it doesn't exactly rival LA because of population differences and size and visibility but certainly produces a lot of ferment that does create new entire visions of punk rock and community And that's what I like about NoFX and the reason why I picked it is because unlike Blink 182, who, while they certainly did open for NoFX at some point in the 90s and they certainly benefited from what NoFX was doing to raise the awareness of these alternative underground bands. Now granted, by 2000, with the new drummer, Blink 182 will eventually influence music in the 2010s with Travis Barker taking on huge producer roles and transforming hip hop and rap and punk and rock, but I don't think it's quite the same way because he's not creating labels. As a Kardashian he's going to make a lot of money and his family is going to be very wealthy and is going to enhance and dramatize the distinctions between the haves and have nots. Whereas NOFX like distributed money to people and helped them not just have good records, but produce records that they could have more financial stake in.

Kate Jewell: 26:04

So you said you had four that you couldn't resist. So so why is that?

Chris Deutsch: 26:08

I couldn't narrow down this list because the topics too big and any choice I make diminishes what I'm trying to say. It's kind of disappointing. I'm going off of a NOFX inspired band, not really NOFX inspired, but a NOFX band of sorts. Propagandhi, who is the first real big band that NOFX signs. And by big, I mean a band that NOFX's Fat Mike knew was going to be awesome. And by his own admittance set the standard for how NOFX label bands would sound, how Fat Wreck bands would sound. And they're a Canadian band from southern Manitoba, which is basically north of North Dakota. And they introduce a musicality, a political focus, an intellectual focus, and a, what I love so much, a pathos and an introspection. They're influenced by thrash metal and hardcore punk, but instead of just being mere shouters, they question, and they wonder, and they ask about. Today's Empires, Tomorrow's Ashes, an album released in 2000 marked a shift where they're moving out of their 90s skater punk sound. They switched bassists and they got a more hardcore thrashy sound. And the final song of the album I think really nails home their transformation and what they're trying to lean towards."Purina Hall of Fame" engages with the meat industry very deeply. It's a song about Raston Purina's Hall of Fame that they made, going back to the 60s, and they picked pets to be exemplar animals. And they, Propagandhi, compares that to the fate of meat animals. If some animals get recognition for their bravery, other animals get a captive bolt to the head. They ruminate on the idea of maybe blowing up a train car to free the animals. And they're grappling with doing something to end meat, but the consequence of doing so and what that means, and how to position yourself with your moral choices. I think that what it could mean to be in a punk rock band with some real moral beliefs and some real desires for change and to not just see your music as a means of lifting yourself out of precarity, but to explore what you think and to inspire action and to make concrete change. So if Ramones found themselves escaping precarity, but in a very precarious way. If Minor Threat created the DIY choices that they wanted to make, if NOFX rode a wave and helped redefine a wave, a band that benefited from that is grappling with what to do with all of this. And the final point is that I also write about the meat industry. I find some of their questions deeply challenging in a good way. Their ending lines are thinking about this bond that they might set, that if they do, they"might forget to remember that better lives have been lived in the margins, locked in the prisons, and lost on the gallows than have ever been enshrined in palaces." So this lived experience of being precarious and being ground down and of being punished for your poverty, you know, you live a better life than someone who's ensconced in privilege because of the way they're grappling with their emotions and their desires and their feelings. I think that's a very powerful way to end the song. And then it goes into this like really gnarly shreddy riff that kind of like threatens to come undone in that really dramatic way that signals to the audience the tension within the song.

Kate Jewell: 30:23

Punk authenticity at its finest, right? That was a pretty powerful place to end a narrative and a mix tape, one that embedded deep tensions about the directions of political economy at the end of the century with the desire to control one's own destiny and morality. But Chris had a bonus song dealing with college radio and it's complicated relationship with a elitism. A special bonus for the college radio fans like myself.

Chris Deutsch: 30:51

So, one thing I'd like to do is the special pick if you don't mind.

Kate Jewell: 30:54

Yeah. Go for it

Chris Deutsch: 30:55

so the special pick that I, that I offer for this mixtape is Lagwagon's"Know It All" from 1994's Trashed album. And it's a song about college radio. It's a song all about grappling with college radio, selling out. What does it mean to be a college radio dj? What are the morals and the ethics behind fame? And it's a very early Lag wagon song, so very much is reflection of the snotty, dismissive attitude that they had at the time. And that their songs, uh, conveyed in that that no fxy way where everything's kind of a joke. Everyone's kind of silly and stupid, and yet we're still gonna grapple with real things and we're really gonna put our hearts on our sleeves in our own way. And in this song, Know It All, he basically accuses people who don't like college radio of being know it alls. And he has this back and forth where he's talking about how bands can be popular and famous and still be good and then he explains what college radio is where he says it's supposed to serve as a means to expose new bands without prejudice but"it makes no sense safe harbor for the underground until the alternative becomes the popular sounds," and he's castigating people who disagree with him. The bands are good until they make enough cash to eat food and get a pad, then"they're sold out in the musical cliche because talent's exclusive to bands without pay." I've loved this song and I don't completely agree with the message and I think he kind of misses some points, right? that I, think the people who worry about selling out aren't about talent and certainly acknowledge of course that you should make money, etc, etc. Nevertheless, I, the parts I've read of your book, I've read the intro and parts of chapters here and there as I'm making my way through it. And that song plays a loop in my head. And I felt like sharing it on here because I think it was a perfect opportunity to expose anyone who wants to hear a song about college radio at the height of its glory days. Grappling with the same kind of things you, in some ways, were thinking about.

Kate Jewell: 33:13

Well, I appreciate it because I think college radio is very important. To hear more of Chris's playlist, with selections from the Dead Kennedys to Gorilla Biscuits, check out our show notes, which has links to the longer playlist. But I had one more question for Chris, and I was really impressed with his answer. So, so my one challenging question for you is, is this experience of precarity in punk almost always a white male story?

Chris Deutsch: 33:45

I mean, I'm telling it that way. That's for sure. Uh, I mean, there's definitely a bias in the way I'm presenting this. I'm definitely not diving into some of the more important elements. I mean, I did of course mention Bad Brains, but they themselves don't build up a label. They respond a lot like the Ramones do, hitching their band to labels and they of course have things that are going on in their own internal lives, so as with the Ramones, it isn't strictly about choices that they make, it's also about the limited conditions and limited choices they can make. So the story I've told is like that. There's two strands there. One is the bands that I was inspired by. I couldn't have said to myself,"Oh, don't get inspired by this band." You know, the Heart wants for wants kind of. The second thing is that precarity hits men in a certain way where there are gender dynamics between employment and the way people understand their opportunities and limitations and requirements is gendered, is raced, is sexualityized, you know, it fits into all these things, not because I'm, as a scholar, think they should, it's just the way people did. Whether we like it or not, the way people responded to the precariousness is deeply reflected by how they conceived of themselves. And I think punk rock's masculine tinge, the reason why someone like Patti Smith doesn't get to set the tone the way she might have, given her ability to inspire, is because it's, at least in some ways, it's the loud voices that were screaming at the disillusionment that they felt while another group of people maybe felt something different and maybe we're dealing with different interests and dealt with them in different ways. It definitely can get a little tricky, especially on the fly to kind of parse out what is a very good question that is a very important one to

Kate Jewell: 35:22

A story for another mixtape in future.

Chris Deutsch: 35:24

Yes, very much so.

Kate Jewell: 35:25

Awesome. Well, Thank you so much for this very, very smart, very nuanced exploration of precarity and punk.

35:35

Um, Um, Uh, Um, Ah, últíem Uhm. Uh.