TUNES // Glitoris – Trump Card

For me there’s always been a kind of dissonance between the utopic Punk Dream —

(The Gig With Open Arms –not only to your textbook freaks and misfits with spikey hair and lip rings, but also to the ones who fly under the radar, the ones with fashionable but awkwardly-lengthed skirts, the only hint of their outsider status the flicker of panic in their eyes when someone mentions high school).

— and the Punk Reality which is typically satisfied with only the appearance of that dream.

There’s hardly a lonelier feeling than standing by yourself in a space that proclaims loudly to be FOR EVERYONE because like, who does that make you?

But anyway I’ve traveled halfway across the world and it turns out the punk dream is alive and well in Wellington, New Zealand with Glitoris and the troupe of merry misfits called Sound and Fury.

I wandered into this bar because I heard raw guitar and saw women in shiny red spandex jumpsuits. I started out sipping a whiskey behind a table by the stage, bobbing my head and shuffling in the sort of sad way that says “I am working up the confidence to move my feet from this place on the floor to a place several inches away on the floor.”

But the band’s playful power chords and feminist punnery soon lured me out from behind the pit and by the time the show ended my hair was matted sweatily around my forehead while I screamed SLUT POWER and pumped my fist in the air.

I hugged strangers and watched as the crowd helped an attendee peel off their floor length pink satin gown. I bought a pin shaped like a vagina after the show which will always remind me of Glitoris and the night I did not stand awkwardly in the corner at a punk show.

Glitoris is a raucous and delightful punk rock four-piece from Canberra, Australia. Lyrical subtlety is not their strong suit, which is also part of the act’s raunchy charm. Trump Card is the group’s most recent release, and you can nab their 2016 EP, Disgrace here. Whatever you do, Do Not Miss the live show.