i ♥︎ the linda lindas
on their new album and their show at the 924 gilman
I’ve seen lots of essays recently about what October means to a person; autumn weather, cozy sweaters, hot chocolate, candles, Halloween. I like these things too, but I walked into the month with only one thing in mind— the brand new Linda Lindas album that came out last Friday.
Anyone who has known me for longer than fifteen minutes probably knows that I adore The Linda Lindas.
If you’re unaware, perhaps you recognize them from their performance of Racist, Sexist Boy at the LA Library, which went viral a few years ago. My father showed me this video when it came out, and I appreciated it but mostly disregarded it.
They were largely regarded as being truly raw, real, and notably young. The drummer, Mila, was only ten years old at the video. Now, the oldest Bela Salazar is twenty years old, Lucia de la Garza is seventeen, Eloise Wong is sixteen, and Mila de la Garza is fourteen.
Racist, sexist boy
You are a racist, sexist boy
And you have really dangerous toys
Fake dance, shoot and destroy
You are a racist, sexist boy- Racist, Sexist Boy by The Linda Lindas
Earlier this year, my dad brought them up one drive home, one of those “do you remember” conversations. I played one of their songs through CarPlay and I was completely hooked. But I think what was special about this was it was a complete tone shift from what I typically listen to. Over the past few months (thanks to The Linda Lindas) I have switched from listening to exclusively jazz to punk rock.
There’s nothing wrong with jazz— I actually think it’s really a beyond beautiful genre of music that I still indulge in. But I think my switch has helped me more actively listen to music; it’s these sorts of songs that truly make me feel alive. Which sounds completely corny, but I think it’s okay to be so when it’s the truth. It’s the sort of songs that give you a certain vigor for life, the sort of song that makes you pause to jump around your room with glee.
A few weeks ago, I saw The Linda Lindas at 924 Gilman in Berkeley, which kind of completely changed my life. I had never been to a punk rock concert before, and I was admittedly kind of scared. I wasn’t quite sure how I was meant to dress and act. In the Gilman, the crowd was tightly packed as in a can of sardines, clustered around a small stage. In line with the fish, a certain tuna smell reeked off the man standing next to me, and I began to wonder if this was all worth it.
But then The Linda Lindas came out on stage, and I immediately knew it was. It was absolutely the most incredible concert I have ever been to, the sort that leaves you trapped in a haze for several days afterwards. The energy was beyond infectious, and there was such a strong feeling of joy around the whole room. It felt so real, and so passionate. Perhaps I cried just a bit, but you will never know.
I caught one of the set lists, and met all of them after, which was just so wonderful.
Last Friday, their new album No Obligation came out, which I was beyond excited about. I sat on my bed and cried for joy a bit when the countdown finished. Then I put on my headphones and listened to it all on quite high volume. It was an excellent listening experience, and I would recommend it highly. It encapsulates all the things I think they excel at, the true feeling of authenticity with truly good music. In a world where we could so often be silenced, The Linda Lindas invites us to scream about our feelings. And they invite young people, they invite girls, they invite people of color! I think that’s so wonderful, and so important.
So sorry about tuna man!