Last November, one of the world’s largest LGBTQ record labels went dark. Riot Grrrl Ink, a long-running Brooklyn-based imprint founded by Gina Mamone, not only produced and supported a wealth of queer artists but also distributed resources and financial support to LGBTQ political movements and community projects across the country. What’s more, the label provided its artists with access to graphic designers and publicists free of charge. Over the fifteen years it was in business, Riot Grrrl Ink thrived, and helped others thrive too.
Early last month, Mamone issued a statement on Riot Grrrl Ink’s Facebook page that explained why the label had closed: aggrieved at the violent state of racial inequality in America following the grand jury’s decision to not indict Darren Wilson in the murder of Michael Brown, Mamone decided to defer leadership of her label to awQward, a talent organization founded by trans and queer people of color, in a powerful act of solidarity. "It may seem like we have all the world to lose," she wrote, "but understand we feel that we have all the world to gain."
Keeping in line with the progressive, ever-evolving nature of her label, Mamone did something few in positions of privilege, power, and influence have done following the non-indictment in Ferguson: she found a way to take accountability and incite actual, visible change. The decision to defer leadership to trans and queer people of color becomes even more revolutionary when taking into consideration how many LGBTQ organizations (and record labels, independent and otherwise) are still largely run by white, cisgender power players.
Mamone’s decision is also one couched in an ethical code similar to those of several LGBTQ record labels of the past. Though the first label to produce LGBTQ-themed music was Camp Records in the mid-'60s, it was Olivia Records in the early '70s who created a true precedent for LGBTQ record labels to follow in the decades to come. Founded by a group of Washington, D.C.-based feminist lesbians in 1973, Olivia Records was groundbreaking first and foremost in its mission to form a women’s recording company that would distribute releases nationally. "We paralleled the women’s movement," co-founder Judy Dlugacz explained in an interview with Lesbian News. "We had the ability to reach women and have a profound impact on them. If they were isolated in a small town and thought they were the only lesbians in the world, they bought this music and it changed their lives." That sense of a lesbian community was bolstered further by a compilation, Lesbian Concentrate, released by Olivia Records in 1977 in opposition to Anita Bryant’s anti-gay crusade "Save Our Children".
By the '80s, Olivia Records had become entirely self-sufficient, producing over 40 albums with more than one million sold. It was around this time that more queer labels were starting to pop up, including Hi-NRG producer Patrick Cowley’s Megatone Records in San Francisco, which became home to famed disco acts like Sylvester and Jeanie Tracy. Queercore, too, was beginning to expand beyond Toronto and into the American punk and DIY scenes. Taking cues from the politically-conscious Olivia Records, a group of queercore-minded and riot grrrl-inspired labels sprung up in the early '90s; it functioned as a push back against the boys club of the big punk labels—where radical feminist and queer voices were oft treated as a novelty if they were even considered at all. From Matt Wobensmith's Outpunk and Donna Dresch’s seminal Chainsaw Records to Mr. Lady and Candy-Ass, these labels gave platforms to marginalized bands that would otherwise have had none.
Looking through this lens, Mamone’s decision regarding Riot Grrrl Ink is one steeped in LGBTQ activist history. The move also underlines exactly why it is so necessary. In an essay written by awQward founder J Mase III, he writes of the silence both Riot Grrrl Ink and awQward received upon the transition. "The fact that an organization with a roster of 200 people can find a way to concretely analyze their privilege sets a standard," he wrote. "I want to believe in a world where we do not shy away from conversations about racial justice. I want to exist aside a vibrant queer community that says yes, we will deal with racial inequity and white supremacy in honest and critical ways. This experience with Riot Grrrl Ink and awQward has taught me that the accountability I have been asking for is possible, so I refuse to let this moment of solidarity go unrecognized." As made evident by important (albeit demoralizing) statistics from the first month of 2015 alone regarding which members of the LGBTQ community are still most at risk of endangerment based on his or her identity, Riot Grrrl Ink’s decision to defer to trans and queer people of color at this point in history is imperative, admirable, and absolutely deserving of further recognition. Let’s just hope it’s the first of many to come for LGBTQ organizations and allies alike.