​It's easy to be in a band in college. No spouse, no kids, no full time job. Just fun and excitement. Then that band gives way to a post college line up which then  splinters into a band with the hubs. Kids come, time becomes scarce, and all versions of a band fade away. There's still some songwriting for a while, but eventually the guitars go on the wall and don't get picked up again. 

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Fast forward 8 years. Lockdown 2020. 

 

Teaching from home. Kids are bigger. There is time. Music documentaries - lots of punk - are always streaming (The Decline of Western Civilization is great if you haven't seen it). This leads to rewatching The Punk Singer, a fantastic documentary about Kathleen Hanna. There is a scene where Ad-Rock talks about a record she made alone in her bedroom. He calls it a masterpiece. 

That was it; the spark. If she made music in her bedroom... 

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The acoustic comes off the wall for the first time in years. Songs start to form.   That feeling hadn't even been missed until it returned. It's amazing; soul renewing; filling. It's Feminoise. 

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