In high school my friend and I spent an inordinate number of hours flipping through the same records at our local record store.
We forced the people who worked there to befriend us and to pass along music, life tips.
One guy in particular took us under his wing.
He told me I would never regret buying the Breeders, Pod cassette. I never have.
During the dreary days of a certain adolescence he passed along more balm for my soul.
Feminist punk to shape me.
Before the Internet when we wrote by hand, passing photocopies, cut and paste.
Even if I had only seen her face in third generation copies, smeared by hands, her voice travelled in me.
There is a film about her and the band and the music and the everything I felt affinity for.
I watched the people moving on the screen but couldn’t hear the music because somehow it had become a part of me.