Your Heterosexual Violence by Suzi Corker

Words & Album Launch Photography: Eerie Rose

When I was freshly 18, I started going to gigs in bars and basements across the city, catching buses between venues drinking bottles of Cherry B. New to this adult world of DIY bands and lukewarm beers, I was a deer in the headlights, looking around me at all times to try and understand the social codes and etiquettes I needed to pick up fast. I remember one moment in particular, seeing Crows play upstairs at The Black Heart in Camden, around February 2016. The band was just about to start, and I noticed this person walk in alone, winged eyeliner and a painted leather jacket. In seconds, they were hugging half the crowd, it seemed like they knew everyone. I felt a pang of jealousy at their confidence, rocking up to something entirely on their own, as if it was home. It was, I suppose. They’d really found their feet, found a scene, found a family. Obviously this is a lot to infer from seeing such a short snippet of a stranger’s life, but it had a profound effect on me. I think I have been chasing that feeling my whole time being an adult, and I feel a sense of completion when I have moments that feel close to that person’s life.

Fast forward about 9 years or so, and I am on my way alone to The Lexington, to attend Your Heterosexual Violence’s launch party for their debut record, “Some People Have Too Much To Say.” I met the band at Cro Cro Land, as they’d come to see bandmate Jemma Freeman play in The Cosmic Something. I was immediately drawn into the lore of the band, who originally formed in the 1982 in Woolwich in South East London, then split up and spent over 30 years off the map. Reforming just before the pandemic, the band has been revitalised with new members Simon and Jem, the latter who has really pushed the recording and promotion of this record. I was especially excited not just to see the band perform in the flesh, but also to enjoy the fact it was a 4pm-8pm matinee. Please, more Sunday shows like it.

Outside the venue, I was greeted with the big smile of frontman Brian O’Brien. A perfect character for a punk band, O’Brien had told me through a mischievous grin that he’d put a plan in place with the rest of Your Heterosexual Violence, so that if he ever were to die onstage during a show, guitarist David Dodd would step in on vocals and the band would have to continue and finish the set with his body still on stage. I loved the image: there is something so gnarly and genuine about it. On the door and merch table I bump into new friends I have met through the live music circuit, and shortly thereafter I get a big hug from Jem who is busy making sure everything is running smoothly for the first band to get started. Suddenly it hits me - I’m where I’ve always wanted to be, just like the person in the painted leather jacket at the Crows show almost ten years ago. The show felt special - not only was it a moment for a band that time nearly forgot to finally get their flowers, but also it was one of those full circle moments for me. Feeling a sense of genuine satisfaction, I enjoyed purchasing a zine and some badges, all documenting the band’s journey from start to present day. It’s amazing to see the ephemera they have kept - hand-written letters of show offers (nowadays, this is normally an instagram DM), old photos and original lyrics.

The show is kicked off with pop-punk’s Breakup Haircut, a band that seamlessly explore both ends of the genre’s spectrum, always with catchy lyrics and great basslines. Well received by the crowd, who were all very attentive and on time for the opener, bassist Ripley introduced one of their songs about taking the night bus home by celebrating the fact that the matinee closing at 8 meant we wouldn’t have to go through the same experience as the song depicts, to which an audience member shouted “but I’m missing antiques roadshow for this!” It was met with a lot of laughs but also many sighs of agreement. I never thought I would find myself quite as at home as I did in that moment, surrounded by punk daytime telly lovers.

The second support was trio The Baby Seals, who I had had the fortune of seeing the week previously at Get In Her Ear’s 10th birthday all-dayer. I was captivated by their incredible technique of using two microphones, with loop pedals and reverb so that lead singer Kerry’s vocals were played like an instrument throughout the set. Songs such as ‘My Labia is Lopsided But I Don’t Mind,’ ‘Temu Trance,’ and ‘Nipple Hair,’ really demonstrated the band’s ability to take serious topics and make important points but in a humorous and lighthearted way. Their skills as musicians really carries the songs, a heavy sound that balances the tongue-and-cheek elements and creates really fun yet really captivating music, all interspersed with great commentary and energy that had me grinning from ear to ear. The crowd loved it so much that they demanded more songs than the set technically had time for, but Jem (who was dancing at the front of the stage at this point) encouraged the encore. You couldn’t break the spell, the entire room was in the moment with them, moving and grooving and totally transfixed.

And finally, time for Your Heterosexual Violence to take to the stage. While noted as a five piece, they played this show with six members, adding hammond, violin, a secondary guitar, extra percussion and tambourine for the appropriate songs. Every track had a well layered sound, which came across even more effectively when all played live together onstage, with Brian’s character and voice tying it together as the perfect package. The set traversed through both new songs as well as originals written and performed in the 80s, ignoring the predictable option to play the album in order and instead curating a set that took the audience on a journey through the band’s personal soundscape. It had the aura of a Tiny Desk or KEXP, in the way that this one set gave you such an all-encompassing summary of Your Heterosexual Violence’s sound, like a snapshot deep dive into the band as a sonic entity, as well as a clear insight to their energy as people. Something I noticed especially about this group in particular, is the way they have overcome any differences in age, experience or culture, finding common ground in music and a general distaste for hatred or intolerance in any form. It’s unusual to find bands of that generation, especially majorly made up of cisgender men, who have such a directly welcoming attitude towards the trans community, as shown in the track ‘The Plan’: “Ladies and gentlemen / And Transgender Neutrals / It’s good to be with you / Hope the feeling is mutual. / We are the mighty Your Heterosexual Violence. / This is our Dharma / We hope you love it / And if you don’t / You can fuck off and shove it…”

The sense of elation in the room was palpable; the crowd enamoured by watching seriously talented musicians finally get their flowers that have been such a long time coming. The band were clearly in their element, the look of joy and satisfaction on their faces becoming more apparent as the set went on. Songs such as ‘The Boy Who Had 10,000 Parents’ captivated me with their creative storytelling, while I was entirely lost in the moment dancing to the cult classics ‘House Outside The World’ and ‘No Search Results (For Weatherman on Drugs). My partner and I loved ‘I Could Be With You’ so much we even created our own dance to go with it, a totally uncool one at that, but it was so difficult not to find yourself moving and laughing with delight. Jem has truly added so much to the band without taking the limelight - adding perfectly fitting bass and vocals, but also this aura of professionality, quietly pushing YHV forwards through organising gigs, helping with social media, merchandise etc. To be able to do all of that so modestly, and the result be such an incredibly presented backlog of ephemera and musical discography finally getting to be seen, heard and held by the world is nothing short of a miracle. I am always in awe of their commitment and passion to the DIY music scene, but this really is something extra special.

As the show finished, and everyone made their way to buy a record and own a piece of the moment forever, I realised just how happy I felt. The entire event had been positive from start to finish, with such a fantastic roster of bands and an audience that really got involved with each of them. It was special to share in the triumph of a record that almost never happened. Punk is certainly not dead, it just took a 30-year hiatus, and in Your Heterosexual Violence it’s back and still bloody kicking.

Stay up to date with the band on instagram, and buy vinyls of the record on bandcamp (in both black, blue and even signed versions!)