Magazine Posts
Table of ContentsMark Garza is something of a celebrity amongst an ocean of DIY bands and basement dwellers; The now 16-year-old has been putting out a vast number of underground releases on tape through her own label, Funeral Sounds, for about 3 years now. She recently began to include vinyl for her most popular releases. Based out of Garza's Houston, TX home, Funeral Sounds has gained a loyal following due to Garza's amazing work ethic and commitment to underground music as well as the staff's zero tolerance policy for homophobic, transphobic, sexists, racist, and overall assholish behavior. I talked with Mark about her coming out, the future of Funeral Sounds, and the contemporary state of the scene.
When and how did Funeral Sounds get started? What was your first release?
We started in September of 2012. The 17th, I think. I had a partner back then named Chase, he left in late 2014. It’s been me alone since then. Our first release, technically, was a band called Alaurabyrd, an album called Brief History of the Dead. It was their last release. Really breathy, emotional hardcore punk kind of stuff. Largely unappreciated, if I do say so myself.
We started in September of 2012. The 17th, I think. I had a partner back then named Chase, he left in late 2014. It’s been me alone since then. Our first release, technically, was a band called Alaurabyrd, an album called Brief History of the Dead. It was their last release. Really breathy, emotional hardcore punk kind of stuff. Largely unappreciated, if I do say so myself.
How many releases have you done so far?
About 25ish? On my own, I’ve done about 13 or so.
About 25ish? On my own, I’ve done about 13 or so.
Funeral Sounds prides themselves in the fact that is a non-discrimatory tape label; you have taken an excellently strong stance against racism, homophobia, transphobia, transmisogyny, sexism, and rape culture. As a transgirl, why do you think most labels – independent or not – are very wishy washy about doing this as well?
I think it’s a fear of alienating some people that don’t “get it,” per say. Which, you know, isn’t a bad thing really; the people you’re alienating are people whom you probably wouldn’t want to be friends with, and I personally wouldn’t want to conduct business with anyone whom I wouldn’t want to be friends with so alienating people that don’t align with my moral code isn’t a huge problem. But many labels do business differently than we do and are much more concerned with the bottom line, profit margins, etc., so alienating racists, homophobes, transphobes, sexists, etc. means a higher risk factor involved, less chance of turning a profit, losing what, sadly, happens to be a large part of any businesses’ audience. At least in my experience.
I think it’s a fear of alienating some people that don’t “get it,” per say. Which, you know, isn’t a bad thing really; the people you’re alienating are people whom you probably wouldn’t want to be friends with, and I personally wouldn’t want to conduct business with anyone whom I wouldn’t want to be friends with so alienating people that don’t align with my moral code isn’t a huge problem. But many labels do business differently than we do and are much more concerned with the bottom line, profit margins, etc., so alienating racists, homophobes, transphobes, sexists, etc. means a higher risk factor involved, less chance of turning a profit, losing what, sadly, happens to be a large part of any businesses’ audience. At least in my experience.
MARK GARZA: HOW A 16 YEAR OLD STARTED HER OWN RECORD LABEL AND WHY YOU SHOULD CARE
Photo by Mark Garza (Self-portrait)
"Facing sexism and racism and classism and transphobia, there are ways to choose to act in those situations, and there shouldn't be a prescriptive list of things that you have to say."
-Kathleen Hanna
Photo by Benjamin Davis
All Night Alright
It takes two to make up for a foul penis
When it rains onto it
Like a curse that never follows
The advent of a sexual history
Marked by the frustration that lives through
A complex system of veins and brains
And to be programmed different
When any pronoun I visited
Has nothing to offer
Except for shallow rewards
"Check out the ass on that bitch"
"Check out the dick on that jock"
"Check out these tits"
"What are you looking at, faggot?"
And it's so easy being myself
Around anyone else but
A family member or a member of the joint
Or whoever is telling you it isn't right
To be free among free spouses
And husbands
And boyfriends
And daughters
And doctors
My doctor
Don't come home tonight
Don't come home tonight
Please, don't come home tonight
-R.G Magellan
When it rains onto it
Like a curse that never follows
The advent of a sexual history
Marked by the frustration that lives through
A complex system of veins and brains
And to be programmed different
When any pronoun I visited
Has nothing to offer
Except for shallow rewards
"Check out the ass on that bitch"
"Check out the dick on that jock"
"Check out these tits"
"What are you looking at, faggot?"
And it's so easy being myself
Around anyone else but
A family member or a member of the joint
Or whoever is telling you it isn't right
To be free among free spouses
And husbands
And boyfriends
And daughters
And doctors
My doctor
Don't come home tonight
Don't come home tonight
Please, don't come home tonight
-R.G Magellan
I let myself go in the middle
I put some stuff on top of my head
When the a/c was filled with lint
And the fan was ripping off
Whatever posters I had left
Because the room became just a tiny bit smaller
Once they boycotted an understanding
A desire to be content
Within the limits of oneself
I let myself go in the middle
Three weeks without a home
Making phone calls to anyone but us
Atop of a needing pin destroying our patience
Seldom a death sentence
But a burden nonetheless
I let myself go in the middle
Among happiness and truth
And misery and exhaustion
Breaking promises made
Out of calories
And drinks
And almonds
And dinners with our friends
Objecting to our bodies
In a thousand different languages
Yelling in beautiful agony
"Look at the mirror now -
give it another try"
To vicarious pragmatism
The elemental sweating of ideas
And whatever is left in the pantry
For anyone to indulge
In the comfort of many different reasons
For rejecting any ambition
Puked and spat over the beauty
Of the sheets you slept in
To never falling asleep after a long day
And the things you want to do
You'll never do them
You might do them
You'll never do them
To feeling amazing over the prejudice
Against our useless bodies
Going steady until it crashes
Crying and begging for the last time
You thought everything was alright.
I let myself go in the middle
Wishing I wasn't dead
I let myself go in the middle
And it's making me upset.
The elemental sweating of ideas
And whatever is left in the pantry
For anyone to indulge
In the comfort of many different reasons
For rejecting any ambition
Puked and spat over the beauty
Of the sheets you slept in
To never falling asleep after a long day
And the things you want to do
You'll never do them
You might do them
You'll never do them
To feeling amazing over the prejudice
Against our useless bodies
Going steady until it crashes
Crying and begging for the last time
You thought everything was alright.
I let myself go in the middle
Wishing I wasn't dead
I let myself go in the middle
And it's making me upset.
-R.G Magellan
he slept in my bed after i filled his body with insects & panic & grandfather sewn seeds i was useless inside him; trade organs for oceans is there a vaccine for this? to clean out all the unborn kids (a whole graveyard here in this bed) he broke me good where the landlord left scars emptied all the bedrooms to reclaim the stretchmarks we were to our throats in grass! we tore down the treehouses! and our brothers were kindling for the lovesongs that we couldn't sing because we drowned all our songs in the bathtub (you could hear them way up in the rafters) and the preachers sleeping in the attic stole them all for scriptures we sing nothing, now; our mothers ask us how we pray with the lights out for songs to fill our mouths.
Organs For Oceans
By Jordaan Mason
By Jordaan Mason
i.
you snuck in my window and seared an x over my heart with fingertips like the shadows on my wall.
you slip through my skin like a secret
and i lock you in my chest because i do not want you to go. but like a ghost, you drift away from me,
leaving a hole like the hesitance between breaths
and an unbearable silence in your absence.
you snuck in my window and seared an x over my heart with fingertips like the shadows on my wall.
you slip through my skin like a secret
and i lock you in my chest because i do not want you to go. but like a ghost, you drift away from me,
leaving a hole like the hesitance between breaths
and an unbearable silence in your absence.
ii.
you return in the night when my blood
is sluggish in my veins, you sidle up
and tap me on the shoulder
as if you’ve been standing next to me
since the beginning of time,
and i can’t fathom how i could have forgotten,
or how i could have missed you so much.
you return in the night when my blood
is sluggish in my veins, you sidle up
and tap me on the shoulder
as if you’ve been standing next to me
since the beginning of time,
and i can’t fathom how i could have forgotten,
or how i could have missed you so much.
iii.
there are days when you are no more
than a whisper clinging to the back of my neck,
or a drumbeat only i can hear, and there are days
when your words echo through my bones
and they shatter
like glass, there are days
when you rage through my blood like a fever
and make me want to punch myself in the face,
and there are days
when i can’t breathe.
there are days when you are no more
than a whisper clinging to the back of my neck,
or a drumbeat only i can hear, and there are days
when your words echo through my bones
and they shatter
like glass, there are days
when you rage through my blood like a fever
and make me want to punch myself in the face,
and there are days
when i can’t breathe.
iv.
and in the darkness your voice was a choir painted gold that shone through my dreams, shone in a halo
around your smoke-stained face,
and i believed in you like a myth.
i believed in you as the lights flickered
and the sky broke under the weight of the world,
and i believed in you when the blackness came, i —
and in the darkness your voice was a choir painted gold that shone through my dreams, shone in a halo
around your smoke-stained face,
and i believed in you like a myth.
i believed in you as the lights flickered
and the sky broke under the weight of the world,
and i believed in you when the blackness came, i —
v.
i believe in you
like
angels
so wrap me in your wings
and
bring me
home.
i believe in you
like
angels
so wrap me in your wings
and
bring me
home.
- Anna Serafini
“One may be nice on the outside but on the inside isn't pretty”
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- Rebecca Walker
Photo by Claudia Morales
To The Reader
This is it. This is happening. I've been trying to make Scruds happen for some time now and it's insane I get to do it so freely. I have been insanely alienated from the world for the past couple of months it's weird to think I can finally speak my mind. And a lot has happened in between: coming out, coming to terms with my mental illness, discovering new reads and listen, protested, fell in love, bought some records, etc.
The mere idea of making this project possible and watch it take off as it goes is truly mesmerizing. I envisioned Scruds as a call for equality embellished in the efforts of some of my best friends. Inside these pages you will find that we have a zero tolerance for racist, sexist, homophobic, and transphobic behaviour. Everyone involved in the making of this very first issue has gone through a lot and are deserving of the respect that comes with being great musicians, poets, writers, painters, and artists. But it's more than okay; It is beautiful to realize our common goals are consolidated into a desire for change.
On this feature, you will find male, female, transgender, genderfluid/queer artists of divergent backgrounds whom I have formed incredibly beautiful bonds with. I know all of these kids personally and hold them to a great sense of esteem. They aren't preachers or politicians or advertisements or poster children; they merely want to express their joys and fears through a biasless lens. They cheerfully use their art for the cause: to speak against any sort of discrimination and to reaffirm the belief that everyone is born equal and has the right to become whoever they want. The belief that condoning rape is a crime against humanity. The belief we shouldn't be prejudicing against anyone regardless of their sex, colour, orientation and creed. The belief that gender is a social construct that has favoured some and screwed over others. The belief that we can change that. We are one.
So, before you mingle among the pages of this publication, I would love to thank the following people for their help and support:
Thank you so much guys! I love you!
-R.G Magellan
The mere idea of making this project possible and watch it take off as it goes is truly mesmerizing. I envisioned Scruds as a call for equality embellished in the efforts of some of my best friends. Inside these pages you will find that we have a zero tolerance for racist, sexist, homophobic, and transphobic behaviour. Everyone involved in the making of this very first issue has gone through a lot and are deserving of the respect that comes with being great musicians, poets, writers, painters, and artists. But it's more than okay; It is beautiful to realize our common goals are consolidated into a desire for change.
On this feature, you will find male, female, transgender, genderfluid/queer artists of divergent backgrounds whom I have formed incredibly beautiful bonds with. I know all of these kids personally and hold them to a great sense of esteem. They aren't preachers or politicians or advertisements or poster children; they merely want to express their joys and fears through a biasless lens. They cheerfully use their art for the cause: to speak against any sort of discrimination and to reaffirm the belief that everyone is born equal and has the right to become whoever they want. The belief that condoning rape is a crime against humanity. The belief we shouldn't be prejudicing against anyone regardless of their sex, colour, orientation and creed. The belief that gender is a social construct that has favoured some and screwed over others. The belief that we can change that. We are one.
So, before you mingle among the pages of this publication, I would love to thank the following people for their help and support:
Dianna Sanchez Benjamin Davis Maeve Holler
Jordaan Mason Anna Serafini Dakota Fahney
Claudia Morales Gomez Mark Garza Gabrielle Steib
Jordaan Mason Anna Serafini Dakota Fahney
Claudia Morales Gomez Mark Garza Gabrielle Steib
Thank you so much guys! I love you!
-R.G Magellan
Cover by R.G Magellan
Poems/Prose
As In Love With You As I Am /// Anna Serafini
Organs For Oceans /// Jordaan Mason
Is M Banging Someone /// Maeve Holler
All Night Alright /// R.G Magellan
I Let Myself Go In The Middle /// R.G Magellan
Short Stories and Misc
$4.32 Fried Catfish Po-boy /// R.G Magellan
Album Reviews (by R.G Magellan)
Jordaan Mason and The Horse Museum /// The Decline of Stupid Fucking Western Civilization
Funeralbloom /// Petals
Pile /// You're Better Than This
Interviews (by R.G Magellan)
Mark Garza: how a sixteen-year-old created her own label and why you should care
Unraveler: messy vans and high ambitions
Links
Artwork, Photos, and Illustrations by Claudia Morales, R.G Magellan, Benjamin Davis,
and Dianna Sanchez
As In Love With You As I Am /// Anna Serafini
Organs For Oceans /// Jordaan Mason
Is M Banging Someone /// Maeve Holler
All Night Alright /// R.G Magellan
I Let Myself Go In The Middle /// R.G Magellan
Short Stories and Misc
$4.32 Fried Catfish Po-boy /// R.G Magellan
Album Reviews (by R.G Magellan)
Jordaan Mason and The Horse Museum /// The Decline of Stupid Fucking Western Civilization
Funeralbloom /// Petals
Pile /// You're Better Than This
Interviews (by R.G Magellan)
Mark Garza: how a sixteen-year-old created her own label and why you should care
Unraveler: messy vans and high ambitions
Links
Artwork, Photos, and Illustrations by Claudia Morales, R.G Magellan, Benjamin Davis,
and Dianna Sanchez
Cover by R.G Magellan
Poems/Prose
As In Love With You As I Am /// Anna Serafini
Organs For Oceans /// Jordaan Mason
Is M Banging Someone /// Maeve Holler
All Night Alright /// R.G Magellan
I Let Myself Go In The Middle /// R.G Magellan
Short Stories
$4.32 Fried Catfish Po-boy /// R.G Magellan
I No Longer Hate My Cock I'm Just Mad At It /// R.G Magellan
Album Reviews
Jordaan Mason and The Horse Museum /// The Decline of Stupid Fucking Western Civilization
Funeralbloom /// Petals
Unraveler /// Eyes Open, Fingers Crossed
Interviews
Mark Garza: how a sixteen-year-old created her own label and why you should care
Unraveler: messy vans and high ambitions
Special Thanks/Links
Artwork by Dianna Sanchez and Jake Silvas
As In Love With You As I Am /// Anna Serafini
Organs For Oceans /// Jordaan Mason
Is M Banging Someone /// Maeve Holler
All Night Alright /// R.G Magellan
I Let Myself Go In The Middle /// R.G Magellan
Short Stories
$4.32 Fried Catfish Po-boy /// R.G Magellan
I No Longer Hate My Cock I'm Just Mad At It /// R.G Magellan
Album Reviews
Jordaan Mason and The Horse Museum /// The Decline of Stupid Fucking Western Civilization
Funeralbloom /// Petals
Unraveler /// Eyes Open, Fingers Crossed
Interviews
Mark Garza: how a sixteen-year-old created her own label and why you should care
Unraveler: messy vans and high ambitions
Special Thanks/Links
Artwork by Dianna Sanchez and Jake Silvas
Cover by Jake Silvas
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