It's September—seven months since I last created an issue of this magazine. It's weird to think about the struggles I faced when I first started this project and how they echo through in the worries and ruminative thoughts I experience right now. For as long as I can remember, I've felt like an outsider. I tried to find connection and kept failing, and I fantasised about what my ideal life would look like. I never had any close friends, apart from a few month-long periods. My parents didn't speak much English and didn't connections over here, which left it up to me to figure out how to find my place in this strange land with strange customs. It's this upbringing that has shaped my psyche.
When I first became involved with the music scene, I was ecstatic. I was certain that I had found my place. I thought that I would finally become socially accepted and find the connection I've been yearning for. I started the zine to share the stories of the people who made up this community and to become one of the people on the stage rather than on the footpath. I was wrong. I became properly traumatised by my experiences within the scene and dug up all the insecurities and pain I had and made me reexperience it all over again. I believe that pain can build strength, and even though it was far from pleasant, that experience taught me the lessons that have made me into the person I am today.
In the scene, people have these invisible standards that they aren't always conscious of but which they assess other people on. That combined with my previous experiences has caused me to conclude that engaging with it is sometimes not worth what the possible cost is. But then I remembered; isn't this supposed to be the 'alternative' crowd? Isn't it supposed to be where you don't give a fuck and just say what you want? Of course, common decency should be followed, but how is the scene supposed to innovate and live up to its standards when elitism and conformity runs rampant? At that point, it just becomes a second mainstream. We're already seeing it through people dressing, acting, and thinking the same way. When you think about it, so many people are copies of the same template just with a different name. This isn't the case all the time, but when comments about how horrible the culture of the scene is and how it doesn't even live up to what being 'alternative' is about, there's something wrong.
Sometimes you've got to get change made. Were The Saints scared of the Bjelke-Petersen government in the 70s, the lack of any venues, and how poorly they were received by other bands? No, they did their own thing. They pushed the boundaries and made the most energetic, intense form of rock and roll for their time, started their own venues, and inspired many to follow their example. Now they're known as legends for having been among the pioneers of the punk rock movement. If I had given into fear and thought that this scene isn't for me and that this zine is a waste of time, would I have gotten to meet so many cool people and gotten to do all this fun shit? Fuck no, I would've remained in the same rut and kept on dreaming about being a part of the Brisbane underground music scene. Throughout this seven-month period, I've given into fear, and it has stopped me from pushing the boundaries of Brisbane music scene journalism, and getting to learn new lessons, and do more cool things. In the spirit of punk rock, I think we all need to loosen up and create a more welcoming environment. Look at Jackson from Pimp. He does crazy hardcore dance moves at every gig he goes too, even when its not a hardcore gig and he's the only one there. And guess what? Nobody gives a fuck, in fact, people think he's a badass for doing his thing while also making good music and epitomising what being a hardcore fan is all about. Fear is the enemy of progress.
The purpose of this zine is to connect people with the stories of the people in the Brisbane music scene, and continuously refine and reset the standards of a music magazine. Music is a very intense, emotionally driven, and confessional form of expression. Through this project, I aim to put a spotlight on the parts of that artform that everyday people don't otherwise get to see. It's also a good way for me to share and perfect my storytelling through the writing, interview, photography, and networking elements that are required of the magazine format. It is not an easy thing to do, nor is it easy to be a public figure, but it's become who I am at this point. I do it because it makes me feel alive.
One band who has mastered the confessional element of music and who I believe has a story worth telling is My Daydreams, who we've interviewed regarding their unique songwriting and artistic approach. We also have a review of the last ever Gormless Records gig to ever happen. Keep on rocking in the free world and don't let others dictate how you should live your life.
From the archive. Editorial · September 2025 · phone notes carried verbatim.