The Music VS. The Misery

The following blog is a guest piece by Sheridan Allen, founder of Punk Talks! Together with her team, Allen works to educate people in music about the importance of mental health. We believe in her efforts, and we wanted to give her an opportunity to share her mission with the world. 

It is no secret that we, as a scene, are…well, sad. Emo music and the subculture that exists within it is not a new revelation of a social movement; since the early 2000’s when the emo music genre began to fully take shape, we have watched the many ways that the community has shifted. From the eye-liner wearing, skinny jean craze of 2006 to the lull of 2011 to the DIY northeastern-saturated underground movement that exists today, the trends have changed, but the feelings haven’t. In my final semester of my undergrad, I spent my time studying the prevalence of mental health issues within our community. I could bore you with the hours of data collection, analysis, and literature reviews, but I will condense my findings into something that I am sure you have already guessed by now: mental health is an issue in our community.

Throughout my research, I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to interview a few industry professionals in an attempt to better gauge their perception on this issue. Not shockingly, individuals working full-time in the punk/emo music industry see this problem (and often experience it) and agree that we could certainly benefit from a positive change. Ryan McKenna, bassist for Prawn and Sorority Noise agreed that “there’s a lot of angst that gets thrown around because that is kind of the root of the music itself” and consequently “the scene is a powder keg of mental health issues waiting to happen.” And while it may be true that not every individual in this community, professional or otherwise, suffer from problems related to their mental health, there is a general agreement that mental health needs to be addressed. Zack Zarillo, owner of PropertyofZack (and a slew of other credentials) agreed with this sentiment, stating that mental health isn’t “truly addressed in our community unless something warrants it being mentioned, like a tragic event.”

I, too, saw this issue and its prevalence from an objective fan standpoint and I wanted to do something about it; this observation was the driving force behind my research and development of Punk Talks, an organization that I run which provides free/donation-based discussion and mental health assistance to musicians and industry workers within this community. Further, Punk Talks aims to raise awareness, educate, and diffuse the apprehension and stigma of seeking professional treatment. Mental health has been at the forefront of discussion in American social issues in recent years; a push in awareness and educational efforts have encouraged compassion and have assisted in the reduction of stigma associated with treatment. Despite the increasingly positive outlook society has on this social issue, why are we still so precautious about taking care of ourselves? Why are we more comfortable posting to our Tumblr’s how alone we feel or labeling ourselves as a “sad boy/girl” but we completely shrug off the idea of seeking treatment?

My goal is simple: to give back to the community that has given me so much throughout my lifetime. We have a unique opportunity to destroy this idea that to be creative, we have to be miserable. If I can help a young person who is worn down by the stressors of being a music professional, and they in turn, can provide comfort to an audience themselves, I have been successful. This discussion is a crucial one, so we need to remain intentional and engaged in it. I feel so privileged for the opportunity to help facilitate this discussion. You don’t have to be sad to make great music.

James Shotwell