As usual, I was getting my coffee at Bru and perusing the table with the flyers. When I saw that Lydia Lunch was reading down the road, I had to go.
A strong, bad ass bitch – I thought I’d seen her read at some St Marks poetry event, and I knew I had to see her again. The event was behind a secret bookcase at the Bar Covell. Hazy lighting with old-fashioned wallpaper, vintage photos, and old wine bottles – this was the spot alright. It was an interesting crowd, too, edgy 80s punk Amy winehouse vibes, while I wore my hot pink glasses and 60’s top I got at the thrift store. I knew I looked like an innocent sunshine child, but I too had danced with darkness, suicide, and hate. It’s all a performance and yet it’s living.
Lydia welcomed us to the evening in her sultry voice, introducing Zoe Hansen (her wife), and Jerry Stahl (her wife’s husband), and promising she’d come on after them to blow us away.
Zoe read a piece from her memoir about finding the edge of sanity when she lived at the Chelsea Hotel. If you don’t know the Chelsea Hotel – look it up! This place is iconic. I wonder if there is a present day Chelsea Hotel… I was transported to her room there into the mindset of schizophrenia.
Then Jerry went up. He too read from his memoir, making funny quips and reflections as he read, detailing going to the Frolic room at 10am, one of the magical places that was open for people like him that needed to start their day with a drink. He detailed the “dread soaked, accusing energy of the sun” and an opium experience in the hotel of Chateau Marmont. I guess the LA equivalent of the Chelsea? Although it’s so expensive and exclusive, I think. I have never been, but I have also never tried to go and never been invited. I’m also a teacher, so that limits my crowd to mostly teenagers.
At the break, I went up and bought one of her candles. I tried to get the book, but she sold out! It was a rushed interaction and I think she was confused why I was here because of my cheerful outfit, but also I caught her right before she went on stage. I wish I could have talked to her more.
Instead, I talked to the gentleman next to me who had been friends with Lydia since he was 14 and they met at an X concert. Lydia and the lead singer of X had gone on tour doing spoken word poetry before spoken word poetry was a thing. They had just connected and been friends ever since. He grew up in LA and went to Hollywood High, and had seen how Los Angeles had transformed over the decades. I am so curious about this city that I was born in, and it’s history.
Then it was time for Lydia!! Oh I wondered if she would actually blow us away and she did. She read a story that I’m not sure if was true (autofiction?) about her stalking a cop that was harassing her friend at the Kinky Kitty club where she was a sex worker.
She said, “The worst part about stalking someone is you only get to know about the suffering second-hand,” and then she’d laugh her deep, devilish laugh. The joy in causing the fear and panic, the justice in the act despite doing something intentionally to cause pain was a bitchful contradiction that had me mesmerized to the very end.
She finished by inciting us to join the 4 b’s movement, a radical feminist campaign that originated in Korea in the late 2010s. The four Bs stand for bi-hon (no marriage), bi-yeonae (no dating), bi-chulsan (no birthing) and bi-sex (no sex). According to a Politico article, the 4bs have crossed the ocean thanks to Donald Trump’s re-election. She is a warrior in “the battle of sex and the battle of the sexes!” Let’s go!!
Oh it was a great event! I lingered a bit towards the end hoping for an after-party, but got tired of feeling nervous. I walked out into the night on Hollywood Blvd promising that one day, I wouldn’t be this awkward nervous thing tagging along on my roommate’s first date to these countercultural poetry events sitting in the corner.
I too had a lot that needed to be said, I too am a warrior in the battle of sexes and the sexes, and I am ready to join the battalion. I am ready to not shut up just because what I need to say isn’t pretty. To find joy in justice. Although, not sure about the no sex thing…
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