“This is a Community”: Mannequin Pussy at the Sinclair
By Nia Tucker
I arrived late to the Sinclair with a friend. I was excited, but dragging my feet from a particularly exhausting night class that I hauled ass from Park St. to Harvard for. Mannequin Pussy’s 2019 album, Patience, had saved my life during the darker pits of quarantine and here I was, late to the gig I had awaited for so long in 2021.
We walked into the latter half of opener Pinkshift’s set, a punk-rock group that was female-led, and comprised mostly of people of color, and it only took one song for them to gain a new fan in me. The buzz in the room was apparent after their final song, “Rainwalk.” I noticed that the crowd, a mix of the typical arrogant-IPA-in-hand white, male emo fans and ostensibly more queer fans, had different energies once MP’s second opener, Angel Du$t, hit the stage. The second group, mostly representative of the former demographic mentioned, set in a dynamic into the crowd where suddenly the center became a mosh of what I could only describe as Bullet Bills with hardcore handlebar mustaches and Carhartt jackets that the others in the crowd initially felt ostracized by. But during their final song, MP’s frontwoman Missy joined in with a surprise appearance. I would say that was indicative of the atmosphere for the rest of the gig—a separate togetherness. These differences brought us together to support a band we all know and love.
We waited for MP to finally start, the playlist during the wait was a mix of PinkPantheress, ‘80s hits and even some Ariana Grande. I got a drink, bought some merch, and waded back into the crowd to secure a safe and mosh-free spot where I could headbang in peace. We all waited patiently, knowing that the band recently had their entire tour van and belongings stolen after a previous gig in Ohio, there was a larger sense of understanding for the wait, and a better appreciation for them still performing for us at all.
They opened with their 2016 release “Romantic,” and followed with one of my personal favorites, “Control,” which was their lead single off their 2021 EP, “Perfect.” The tension surrounding their missing equipment and hindering their tour plans hung in the air as we all moved our bodies to the extreme, waiting for them to address it, and for live favorite “Drunk II.” The song is a lamentation of a love lost and the want to be vulnerable when breakdowns following a break-up are often not given grace by friends and family. The iconic line, “I still love you, you stupid fuck,” shouted by what seemed like the whole venue in unison brought me to tears.
Eventually, Missy took the mic to address the situation after a rousing performance of the previous song followed by another hardcore, guitar-heavy, self-reflective track, “Cream” which features lyrics like, “And I was standing in the gates of my hell/ I was looking at myself like "Girl, what you did? / Take a look at yourself right now.” She said that other bands had told the group that they should have just cancelled their tour after their van theft. Even the clothes on her back had to be borrowed from Pinkshift and Angel Du$t, in addition to all the musical gear and equipment. Her anger, and ours, was palpable. When they got to playing “Meatslave One,” the crowd had reached its peak in energy. The song, a track about losing autonomy and being consumed by the ideas of others’ perceptions of you, was befitting for the band’s resilience in the face of the mishaps during tour.
Later, a concertgoer jumped into the crowd, propelling themselves off the stage for an unexpected crowd surf, clearly affected by the surge of the more hardcore songs in the middle of the set from MP’s earlier discography. Missy paused before the next song, telling us that in order to be in this together, there has to be consent. “This is a community,” she whispered into the mic. She emphasized that before we take part in those kinds of behaviors, we have to make sure that those around us are comfortable. I applauded this graciousness, clapping my hands as hard as I could for the care she had for all of us. It showed how much they all appreciated being able to play the music they love for a receptive crowd in the face of adversity, and wanted us to all feel safe.
The set ended with the much anticipated performance of “Pigs is Pigs,” a song led by bassist Bear. It’s an anti-cop, pro-Black track that he dedicated to all the “people of color out there.” I lashed around like I haven’t ever before at a gig. It was so special as it was representative of those of us who were not of the demographic that people think typical hardcore punk fans look like. By the end of the night, I felt as if I had belonged.