We're Not Listening

“You know, you’re pretty good…for a girl.”

Why do people think this is a compliment? Why are those last three words necessary to complete that sentence? Why does a person’s gender automatically coincide with their talent level, and why is the bar so skewed for a girl?

When Violence Ladies were signed to Not Listening Records, Rai fought the numerous sexists in the music industry who questioned his choice. A few bands who have toured with the punk quartet have been asked, “So how about those Violence Ladies? Pretty good band for a bunch of girls, huh?” and each of them have retorted with generally the same response: “No, they’re just great in general. The fact that they’re all girls doesn’t automatically mean you can assume they suck.”

Some people act like sexism no longer exists, but ask any member of this young band and they’ll tell you the opposite.

Stemming from a place that may as well be in north-north Florida (Brunswick, Georgia), the four girls who make up Violence Ladies all met in their rinky-dink high school. From their childhood, each of them had wielded instruments, and even if they had their side-hobbies, one thing was always consistent: music was a huge part of their lives.

Brianna Suzuki had it all figured out from a young age. When she was a toddler she wanted to be an astronaut, and when she hit the third grade she decided she wanted to be a pop star astrophysicist. Really, it wasn’t a long shot – she’s a genius with a powerful voice that rivals any of the rock n’ roll singers of yore, male and female and anybody in between. Throughout school she juggled advanced placement classes and chorus/theatre clubs, as well as her tight friendship with her best friend since diaper days – Winter Fallon.

Winter knew when to shut up every once in a while, unlike Brianna, whose sarcasm sometimes rivaled her charisma. She spoke through the magnificent guitar riffs she could come up with off the top of her head. She’d taken classes since the sixth grade, and her parents saw her as a prodigy – either that, or they were just intimidated by her musical talent. (That wouldn’t be surprising.)

Both girls faced a predominantly white upbringing, and when Brianna was much younger, kids in their elementary school would ask what was wrong with her eyes. It was blatant racism that must’ve been instilled from birth, but she didn’t know that, and neither did Winter, whose mixed Chinese and black heritage prompted similar remarks. They were neighbors and friends who stuck together even as they grew up and realized that they were different from the southern folks who surrounded them, and when high school happened and most of it went away, they put it all behind them.

They entered their freshman year in 2001, way before Cooltube or FlySpace had dominated the scene. The duo was determined to get around that, though, and they put their heads and talents together to record themselves singing covers of their favorite songs, emailing them to family members who encouraged their plight. They were punk rockers at heart, but growing up in the south prevented them from skipping over a few country classics. Brianna had an uncanny amount of control over her clear voice, and Winter gave her an intricate guitar backdrop.

They didn’t quite have a complete arsenal of original songs yet, but the ones that they did have were all written by Winter. She was a gifted lyricist and poet and had found a way to make the music interact with the words, and Brianna worked with her to make sure that both of their talents could make everything as amazing as possible.

Winter and Brianna had big dreams, even if they seemed a little out of this world. Both of them would’ve loved to have been in a band, though Brianna’s backup plan involved astrophysics while Winter just wanted to do something in music. How cool would it be, singing songs from the heart to an audience who related to them?

Apparently, very cool…and a bit hard to do when you’re a band made up of girls who wanted every bit of marketing under their control.