Down Is Up discusses music that falls slightly under the radar of our usual coverage: demos and self-releases, as well as output from small or overlooked labels and communities. This time, Jenn Pelly highlights the upcoming cassette release of an apocryphal riot grrrl prank call from 1993.
As riot grrrl has been historicized in recent years, one of its most iconic enduring symbols has been the balaclava—carried on by Pussy Riot but first worn by Kathleen Hanna in the 90s short film "No Alternative Girls", an attempt at hiding her identity and keeping riot grrrl leaderless. It symbolizes anonymity for the sake of the movement. But with this came the idea that riot grrrl artists shouldn't claim ownership of their work—despite the fact that riot grrrl was where many of them had finally found a voice, after being pushed to the sidelines by the violent machismo of late 80s punk. "I was told that authorship was off the table," Hanna said last weekend, speaking on a panel for NYU/ACLA's "Punk at 40" conference. "I wasn't supposed to stand out."
The question of authorship in the 90s feminist punk scene struck me again when I heard about an upcoming cassette release called PRANKED: GG Allin and the Murder Junkies, out April 1 through New York label Godmode. (Note that Godmode is run by Pitchfork contributor Nick Sylvester.) PRANKED is an apocryphal riot grrrl prank call allegedly recorded in the spring of 1993 by three women at Sarah Lawrence College, after they'd tracked down a phone number for Merle Allin, the brother and bandmate of notorious misogynist and psycho scum rocker GG Allin. Hear an excerpt above, in which one of the women poses as "Nadine from Riot Grrrl" and claims—hilariously—that Merle's name was on a list of potential riot grrrl volunteers.
Nadine proceeds to try booking GG Allin and the Murder Junkies to play a riot grrrl show at ABC No Rio opening for Bikini Kill with Heavens to Betsy, Bratmobile, and some poetry readings. Nadine tells Merle that there cannot be any sexism or racism, and lists off the many organizations the show will benefit: the Women's Action Coalition, the Abortion Rights Campaign, AIDS resarch, PETA. "Can we get something out of it?" Merle asks, to which she replies, "You'll get a riot grrrl T-shirt!"
The alleged call takes place at an especially aggro and male-dominated moment for New York hardcore, which makes it all the more entertaining—whether the prank is real or not. It is, after all, coming out in an edition of 50 on April Fools' Day, over a decade after Godmode first learned about the tape's existence in a 2003 interview on this site. The label claims to know nothing of the women involved; the audio is apparently a dub of their answering machine tape, acquired through a man named Knick who lived with them. But for an idea so utterly enjoyable, questioning the prank's veracity reminded me of when my English teacher in high school first introduced to us the Shakespeare authorship question. The greatness of the work supercedes the question of its origins. The label hopes, though, that the women will come forward and claim ownership of the prank. "I'm interested in how people involved with subcultures move out of them," Godmode says. "This is like me putting up a bat signal into the sky, and hoping they see it."
