Speedy Ortiz is touring in support of their third LP, Twerp Verse, released this spring. The album is akin to the woman with the “I can’t believe I still have to protest this fucking shit” sign. Frontwoman Sadie Dupuis’ lyrics express a pervasive weariness with the predatory patriarchy and politics. Yet, the gnarly guitars are a battle cry disguised by pop melodies, discordant but energizing. Speedy Ortiz reminds us that whatever is going on, we can still have fun.
I met up with Dupuis backstage at Riot Fest to chat over Strongbows about touring a new album, working to make the music scene safer and releasing her first book.
You can read the full interview on October. Check out a few of my favorite moments below.
So, you started a help hotline a few years ago for fans who feel unsafe at your shows and I know the proceeds from ‘Blood Keeper’ are going to a safe spaces guide.
It’s a guidebook called ‘Making Spaces Safe’ written by Shawna Potter from the band War on Women. She sent me a copy, because she’s working on a longer book about the same subject and had interviewed me for it and asked for a blurb. She showed me the book and I was like, ‘This is amazing.’
There’s so much practical information in here that venues should be equipped with. Stuff that you wouldn’t think about that pertains to inclusivity like food allergies and how to make sure your kitchen is allergy-equipped. Or stuff like sometimes people use code words at the bar so that if you’re being harassed at the bar you can tip off the bartender discreetly without escalating. It’s different tips that for many bars would require, and should require, a day of training. Obviously, the best thing to do is get someone to come in and consult for you, but in lieu of that, this book is a really great place to start.
So, I read this book and was like, ‘I wish every place that we played could read this.’ I thought every place we play on this tour can read it if we just buy a bunch of copies of the book. So that was sort of the idea behind that. We’re already kind of involved in safer spaces initiatives. We have our own guidelines that we ask to have posted when we headline a show, and we distribute at all our shows bystander intervention and de-escalation tactics.
There’s only so much you can do from the artist’s side of things. I think the real instructional thing that makes sense is for it to be a local issue, for the venues to have a system in place so that every time you go to say, Thalia Hall in Chicago, you know what the protocol is. You know this is how I get help if I need it. So, we’re really happy to be buying these books and providing them to venues.
It seems crazy that in 2018 this isn’t standard training.
We’re getting there slowly. It’s so much better than it was. When we started this hotline three years ago there was nothing like this. I feel like lots of people are working on little projects like this. It’s kind of snowballing into more people being aware and wanting to do better by their patrons. That makes us happy, of course, and we’re happy to be involved in any of those projects.
We’re always are psyched on playing all ages spaces and spaces that are more about an arts community rather than a bar.
What role does the drinking culture of the music industry play within the need for safer spaces?
It’s tricky because, for some venues, the majority of their profits come from alcohol sales. If they are 18-and-up or all ages, they’ll charge more for the younger kids to get in because they’re not recouping that in alcohol sales. It does seem very ingrained and I think that plenty of people use alcohol as an excuse to engage in behavior that’s unacceptable.
As someone who does drink, it’s tricky. I never feel good when people use alcohol as an excuse for predatory behavior, or the kind of behavior that’s exploitative of people in the music scene, or exploiting power in any kind of way. I’m musician who’s seen a lot of people succumb to addiction on tour. I’m lucky that I can have one drink a night and that can be fine for me, but for many people it’s not.
When venues choose to pay performers solely in alcohol—you’ll get drink tickets and that’s supposed to keep you in a good space for the night—it can really put people into some bad habits. It’s really hard to know how to extract those two, because bar culture is so ingrained in music culture. That’s why we’re always are psyched on playing all ages spaces and spaces that are more about an arts community rather than a bar.
I think it’s cool to have faith in these small movements and that things can get marginally better.
I know you wrote this album partially in response to the 2016 election. How does it feel to be playing it now with midterm elections coming up?
It was very much written in response to trends that were continuing to happen. It wasn’t like, ‘Trump was elected, here are ten songs about Trump.’ It was like, ‘Oh we had this really progressive candidate that could have run as our Democratic candidate and we botched it, or we could have rallied behind Hillary Clinton and we didn’t.’
I feel like some of the same issues are still true to me. I’m no longer voting in New York City, which is where I was born and raised, but I was so psyched on Cynthia Nixon. But you have to look at the DSA candidates that we did elect, and a lot of these primaries have gone in ways that make me happy. Let’s see how we do in the actual midterm elections, but I do feel there’s been a lot of progress made in rallying not only young voters behind more progressive socialist candidates, but also more awareness to the idea that can lean more towards providing things we need, such as healthcare.
So, the songs still feel relevant to me, because that’s kind of what they were about. ‘Lucky’ was sort of about ‘I can’t believe we fucked this up, but look at all these young activist groups that I’m so psyched on.’ I have hope in that. I still feel that way and will still feel that way, until the world collapses in about three years. Sarcasm!
I think hope runs throughout the album, although you’re touching on tough themes that everyone is feeling.
I think you have to have it, otherwise what are you gonna do? It would be so easy to just say, ‘We fucked everything up. Let’s just give up.’ Global warming has reached a place that we probably can’t turn back from. Do we want to give up or do we want to see cities banning plastic? I think it’s cool to have faith in these small movements and that things can get marginally better.
