The backstage VIPpage at Pitchfork’s high heat weekender was knocked off it’s frump game by Molly Soda’s undergarment get ups, as seen above. Pubic hair sticking through yr girdle and a headset mic offstage is a look not everyone can pull of, you know what I mean? I am too old to Seapunk. I am on my Depunk years. Comfortable shoes and shirts I can nurse in.
Second tier looks were far far down—i.e. the dude with scraggly middle part and a ladies beaded earring holding his glasses together who was trying to forcibly sell drugs to Chief Keef’s crew, who were giving him all manner of furrowed brow. Fucking everyone hates aggro hippies. After all was done, after I reported the Keef and Reese story and interviewed Young Chop, Young Chop’s little brother (who is missing an opp by not going by Younger Chop), some cousins and associated crew I was doing the play by play with David Drake from So Many Scramps and Andrew Barber from Fake Shore and a security dude came up and asked “What band are you all in?” “Freelance Poverty” I offered. “We’re a trio”.Posted by jessica hopper at July 16, 2012 10:14 PM | TrackBack