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0 Written by Grace Horlings
There’s an unspoken fifteen-minute intermission between each set at any local hardcore show. Merch is sold, and instruments switched. This is when groups form—friends chatter amongst themselves. Going alone can be a challenge, but not one specific to Lethbridge. When I talked to a vocalist about it, he told me that all hardcore shows “feel like a big party where everyone knows each other.” This shouldn’t be a deterrent for anyone interested in taking part, but finding someone to talk to in those fifteen minutes is an unavoidable task for all showgoers. It’s essential to the creation of a local scene. Becoming fast friends with new faces because of a shared love of music. The show that I observed was an All Ages show organized by Libertine, featuring Calgary-based bands Fatal Dose, Syphon, and Trench.
Young showgoers take a break outside Moose Hall in between sets. Photo by Kort Woycheshin.
When the last riffs of soundcheck are through, the house lights go down, and the crowd becomes an array of shadows. The teens abandon their position on the sidewalk outside, where they had been sharing vapes, loose cigarettes and passing around a single beer bought by their one legal friend. They re-enter the venue in droves, taking a spot at the side of the stage. All with bleached homemade haircuts, clad in DIY cropped band shirts, and oversized cargo pants cinched at the waist by studded belts. The seasoned veterans form a wall at the back, water or beer in hand, depending on their current sobriety journey. Covered in tattoos and dripping in name-brand skate gear from shoes to snapback, expensive ear protection, ready to go. When the music starts, there are clear instructions to move, to let loose, and become a part of the swarm. Bands use their time on the mic to tell the audience to “Move!”
When the crowd does move, they move hard. Thrashing and kicking with fists and feet. It’s the perfect opportunity to get out what’s been sitting in your chest, building to the point of needed contact. The music starts in your styrofoam-plugged ears with disorientating vocals and moves down to vibrate your body with fast progressions. You feel it in the floor, calling you to move your head or tap your foot. The brave bodies in the pit assert the kind of bursting masculine rage you would expect. Some stick to jumping on the sidelines, a group made up largely of enthusiastic teenage girls. You can see the reason for their apprehension as participants slam themselves against the audience.
The crowd moshes at Owl Acoustic Lounge. Photo by Kort Woycheshin.
I spoke with Libertine co-organizer Selena Osbourne about how she became involved in hardcore and created a space for alternative music and subculture. Her love of the local scene began when she was a teenager and first started going to hardcore shows. In high school, she was attending a show almost every week, and her friends were directly involved in the organization of these shows.
“It was mostly my friends putting them on, which is crazy to think teenagers were putting them on because it’s a lot of work. Things must have been cheaper then.”
As she got older, the continuous trips to Calgary from Lethbridge to see different bands became more difficult.
“I thought, why can’t we just pull them down here?”
With the financial backing of Stephen James the owner of Libertine Tattoos—Selena planned and hosted the first Libertine show before covid brought everything to a halt. Three years later Selena ran into future co-founder Gillian Matthews at a show and the promotional fire started up again.
“I think it was Hoppstoch Battlescars and some other band, maybe Means To An End, they were coming through and knew Gill. We were able to set up a show for them, and the shop was able to sponsor it. I think after that, after our first couple shows, we gained traction.”
The team of Gillian and Selena, is the Libertine that has come to be known in the Lethbridge scene. Selena, having a connection with local venues, and Gill, having a connection with talent from Calgary, have created a larger net for both of them.
“Now people have started contacting us, instead of us contacting them. Letting us set up a show for their tour.”
Along with other Libertine employees, artists, friends, and countless volunteers, the shows continued to be a success. Any help that can be offered is greatly appreciate,d from publicity to helping stack chairs. Selena is happy to meet anyone who wants to be involved.
A young mosher proves that the pit is a space for all ages. Photo by Kort Woycheshin.
I was interested in some of the benefits and drawbacks of hosting shows that are all ages. The biggest drawbacks being the expense and the limited number of venues that allow minors.
“I think at first we were just putting shows on at places like The Slice because you could just show up. There’s a backline, I don’t have to rent any sound. The band gets all the income from the door sales. There wasn’t a ton we had to do besides promote it. But then you can’t have all ages. So that limits an entire demographic. And the whole point of being interested in putting on shows in the first place was to give the same space I had.”
Theoretical Brewing and The Owl Acoustic Lounge are now willing to host minors for a set amount of hours, which offers Libertine a less expensive venue in comparison to renting out a community hall. Selena also explains that for bigger bands like Trench that require a heftier door fee she encourages anyone concerned about affordability to reach out.
“Pay in change. If you bring $15, I’ll let you in. It’s more about people being there— filling the space with bodies.”
The goal of making these shows more accessible to a younger crowd is to foster the kind of environment Selena accredits to shaping her as a person. What got her into live music, alternative culture, and tattooing. All the things that have become prevalent parts of her adult life. These shows create a third space that would not exist for this demographic otherwise. It is also a space that is not meant to promote any kind of use or abuse, putting fun and inclusivity ahead of everything else.
“It’s just music and a place to hang out. Because that’s what we want to do too. It’s very gender diverse too. There’s a lot of women who are 100% in the pit, throwing down and they’re not scared. And that’s a luxury I did not feel I had.”
Helen Arias of Calgary female punk band PERRA sinks into her performance. Photo by Kort Woycheshin.
The maintenance of this space is beneficial for Libertine because this demographic will continue to bring their friends, post about it on social media, and most importantly continue on a scene in Lethbridge. Creating their own bands, their own art, their own groups. Continuing to make things that help all those seeking to be seen and heard.
“They’re living my dream.”
