On Women in Music

From 2010 until late 2015, I was one-half of a female EDM DJ duo. We made a point to downplay gender in the creation and construction of our brand, even naming ourselves after an anonymous moniker in the hopes of earning more respect and engaging more thoughtful fans. We were always acutely aware of how our gender and image could alter perception, and that understanding informed everything we did.

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I want to share a conversation I had with an acquaintance today— seemingly innocuous and insignificant, but truly indicative of attitudes towards women in music:

Him: Hey Claire! How are things?

Me: Hey ______, thanks for checking in. Went solo a few months ago and have been working on music and djing when I can. How are you?

Him: Good to hear! Actually my old friend who does festivals just released his new show that might interest you I’ll send it to ya to check out. Things are going really well!

Him:

Me: Hmmm it’s missing something

Him: Yeah he just released it today but should be fun if you would like me to look into it for ya

Me: All good. To be honest I’m trying to get away from the EDM scene. Pretty tired of all male lineups and photos of scantily-clad women

Him: Hahahaha I can see that

Me: The way they’re represented is actually offensive. And degrading.

Him: Yeah I definitely agree. Umm so a pass on that. I’m sorry Claire :(

Him: But yeah, if you want to link up soon to chat and catch up just let me know when you’re free soon

***end of conversation***

So what’s wrong with this poster? Maybe it’s obvious but I’ll say it anyway: the women on this flyer are represented in only one capacity: as the object of male desire. When I pointed this out, my acquaintance responded with a “Hahahaha” as if I were joking — writing off my acknowledgement of a serious issue as something funny and light-hearted. His response is a tiny manifestation of a deeply-rooted, pervasive belief that women in music are “lesser-than,” and somehow only worthy of existing as over-sexualized objects here to serve men.

As this conversation unfolded, I read an article detailing the latest update in Kesha’s rape trial. The judge assigned to her case threw out her appeal and even went so far as to claim that rape is a not always a “gender-motivated hate crime” — this just in: it is. It is the epitome of a gender-motivated hate crime because (as chissy nkemere perfectly lists):

1) rape is not a sexually motivated action

2) rape is a violent and brutal crime

3) a hate crime is defined by the FBI as a “criminal offense against a person or property motivated in whole or in part by an offender’s bias against a race, religion, disability, sexual orientation, ethnicity, gender, or gender identity”

4) when a man rapes a woman, it has everything to do with her gender

5) when a man rapes a woman, it has everything to do with that man’s anger and rage toward women

6) when a man rapes a woman, it has everything to do with that man’s obsession with fulfilling a false sense of power over another person he views as a weaker, lesser version of a human being

By throwing out Kesha’s appeal, that judge sends the following message to women everywhere: Keep it to yourself. Nothing “wrong” or “illegal” happened.

The DJs I follow — a small handful of extremely successful and talented women who are very active on the festival circuit — are by and large quiet about the issues of sexism, discrimination and violence in the music industry. But silence perpetuates the cycle. How will anything change if we don’t talk about it? Perhaps we don’t speak up because we fear we will offend someone and jeopardize our already slim chances of being treated equally. (Anyone who takes offense is not a person worth working [or even associating] with.) Perhaps we don’t speak up because we feel it’s not our fight or our cause. It is. Perhaps we don’t speak up because we just don’t care. We must. I challenge more women in music to speak loudly about their experiences — and hold those at fault accountable.