Leila Maeyhem, who also performs at FKA Church, captures local band Bone or Shark on their stage (Photograph: Leila Maeyhem)
The DIY underground of Los Angeles is a landscape that I have watched change for over 10 years. I define “DIY” as artists whose work serves as a resistance to dominant power structures, who tend to work independently of industries, and who create their own culture through working together to produce art. As an underground trans artist of color myself, I believe that we have a lot to learn from artists in the DIY scene.
I have been performing as a solo artist under the name dagger wound for the past year. Before that, I toured nationally and internationally for four years as part of the collaborative performance project “mirrored fatality”, an experimental noise project based in LA. Even before I started making my own music, I had been embedded in the local DIY music and art scene since I was 14 years old.
There are so many artists who are heavily inspired by the politics and culture of this city. I wanted to highlight a few perspectives of LA underground queer and trans artists to paint a better picture of what living within this city looks like for artists trying to create art in a place that can be both inhospitable and extremely life changing. I believe that with the suffering comes immense inspiration. I spoke with 3 DIY artists from my community: Kawika F, who also goes by Vicky and beauty supply), Romeo Diablos, and Leila Maeyhem about their artistic practices, inspirations, politics, origins, advice, and experiences surviving in Los Angeles while creating art.
“When I went to more shows and DIY stuff, ideas about art got challenged. I realized all that it takes to do art is art. I used to think you need classes, but DIY stuff helped me challenge the notion,” says Romeo Diablos, “a Brujaton artist who blends reggaeton, noise, and industrial sounds into a ritual of digital chaos and post-apocalyptic perreo.” (Perreo is “a sensual and provocative dance style, often associated with reggaeton music, characterized by hip movements and grinding, with some moves inspired by Jamaican whining and daggering.”)
Romeo Diablos circulated these surreal flyers as to promote their music (Photograph: Romeo Diablos)
Some of my first shows were at FKA Church, previously known as the Church of Fun. Established in 2012, the Church is one of the longest running DIY venues in Los Angeles. Spaces like this are central to keeping a scene thriving because they offer the places for artists to showcase their work and build community. DIY usually means that artists are working with significantly smaller budgets and resources than mainstream artists but tend to create art that is radical and unique. Without venues like the Church, the underground scene would be unable to continue hosting affordable events that showcase artists who are historically underrepresented and supported within music and arts.
“The Church is a community space where there are people who want to help each other and people help you out here,” says Vicky, who describes her art form as “button pushing and knob turning distorted melodies at social outcasts.” She continues, “It’s been cool to see people care about each other instead of making a clique. It’s more about doing it together and making it.”
“The first few times I went, there were so many queer and trans and poc people and it was one big community,” says Leila, a musician, photographer, and self-described curator of chaos. “Who you were didn’t matter, what mattered was coming for the art and seeing some weird artists. It is such a cool hold out for DIY art, and everyone is friendly and wanting to experience something new and uplift each other.”
FKA Church is more than just a music venue, it’s a place that has hosted fundraisers, community events, mutual aid donation drives, and meetings for many different organizations including LA Tenants Union. With the recent fire crises, the Church became a donation hub for supplies for fire victims and other donation drives across LA. This multipurpose network of care that the Church has created is reflective of larger DIY culture and how people within the underground create their own frameworks and means of survival because the state does not provide us with what we need.
Leila explains, “DIY art is rooted in anti-authoritarianism and anarchism. No one trusts politicians or rich people and that bleeds into other artists who are working for a commercial label because why should I listen to you? A DIY artist’s entire existence is a protest against what we are supposed to be doing.”
Vicky describes what drives her art and the legacy of trans of color resistance that also fuels her work. “As a trans person of color in a major city and, in this specific pocket of time politically, I should be screaming at the top of my lungs. I do on stage, but I feel like I need to be making more of a statement and supporting my community. I don’t want to pigeon hole myself as a trans punk artist but I think it is important for people like me to have a level of social awareness and contribute to the community that they come from and are a part of.”
“I’m someone who cares so deeply about community and how much we can do with art without giving up on our dreams and becoming another cog in the machine,” says Leila.
“There are better ways to make money that don’t require you to monetize your practice,” says Romeo. “The things that make a practice profitable don’t make it good and the guarantee you are going to profit isn’t real. Just hustle and get a day job and find the time to do your thing and that’s what gives you the motivation. At the end of the day what kind of life do you want to live and what things do you want to prioritize? A lot of people’s expectations of something working out are connected to a binary capitalist framework of success of making it not making it, based on money and flawed.”
A performance by Koitus at FKA Church (Photograph: Leila Maeyhem)
The cost of living here is also a huge factor, as artists struggle to make ends meet. “LA as a city, because of how difficult it is to make things happen here, has a tendency to play things very safely,” says Romeo. “Planning a show here is a huge financial risk so people play it safe. If you don’t go to 1 of 4 places you’re at risk for cops rolling it or renting an expensive warehouse spot.”
There is a sense of transience that comes with being an underground artist in this scene. Venues will pop up and disappear at fast turnover rates. As a city that is undergoing constant gentrification, it continues to become harder to sustain venue spaces, especially with people constantly moving in and out of the city. With these conditions, building a scene can become difficult, and many artists of marginalized backgrounds struggle to sustain themselves within the harsh fabrics of Los Angeles.
Vicky also speaks to the struggle of financing DIY shows and the interpersonal dynamics that come up. Vicky describes, “Financial obstacles and dedication and people not wanting to put their time and energy into something they consider menial like music or just a show or just a warehouse party. A lot of people don’t realize that despite it being a show or a party, that’s where things get done and how communities unify and create spaces and programs to help each other and progress. I hate the idea that it’s all just partying because that’s another obstacle. It gets a bad wrap for doing drugs and drinking but it’s not all that. ”
“People are really focused on social dynamics and social hierarchy,” Vicky continues. “People are there to make music, perform, be happy, and chase their dreams, but sometimes it feels there is a very definitive social structure and hierarchy that comes off as disingenuous, it’s clout chasing. I try not to focus on that. I noticed that any sort of clout I got, I got from being genuine and saying yes for every show and supporting other people and sticking around to other bands. I have been able to make a name for myself and have a big group of supporters that came from working and giving a fuck about other artists.”
Leila says that she “wishes DIY artists were able to play shows where they would make money and that their art can get into places that can be seen by a wider group that can bring them some money. The art spaces need to take more chances and not just go for what’s always been there. The biggest problem is the division between people and how much each separate scene expects you to conform and be perfect. We need more community and bigger community. The big money from commercial venues and labels are going to keep forcing garbage down other peoples throats and the only way to actually be heard and seen is to be big enough and have a large enough community. If everyone works together they have no choice but to put people on.”
Vicky, who performs as beauty supply, is inspired by the history of trans resistance in underground art scenes (Photograph: beauty supply)
What has always inspired me most about being a part of the DIY scene and what I think all these artists spoke to is the fact that people want to support one another and see each other thrive. We are working in a community that is historically under-resourced but people are committed to building a future together that is rooted in collectivity and believing that everyone deserves to share their art and be inspired to create.
Romeo speaks to how the DIY scene also becomes a microcosm for the larger LA community. As a city, LA is extremely diverse and has huge immigrant communities from all over the world. Within the scene, many of the same socioeconomic barriers and pathways to success exist that are mirrors of the larger economy of LA. “In American culture as a whole, there is a fear of what’s next and inability to dream new futures because of it,” says Romeo. “In places like Latin America and Asia, the end of American hegemony means these spaces might flourish in ways that they haven’t been able to because of America.”
I asked each of these artists if they have any advice to give to other DIY artists or people in general.
Leila says, “Don’t be afraid to create, make more art, make your voice heard. Don’t let anything hold you back. Don’t let fear of judgement hold you back. Do everything you can to be as true to your authentic self as possible. Don’t try to fit in. The more you do and make what you want to make the more the right people will find you the more your community will grow.”
“Have fun, be yourself, keep going, why? Why not, what else you got going on, what else can you do at this point?” says Romeo. “It’s never a good idea to give up but when actual shit is going on it’s important to keep going for your own self and to connect with people. Art has brought quality and quantity to different types of people through art. Be open, things are worth it.”
Vicky says, “Say yes to everything, perform to as many opportunities as you can, come before your set and stay until after your set, go to shows you’re not playing, throw shows you’re not playing, be the person you want to see in the scene.”
I think that in times of extreme duress and pain, like the current political climate we are living through, we need the reminders of community and the alternative structures we are building. I believe that creating art and being part of a larger community of artists who are challenging normative structures and choosing to be unapologetic in who they are is a way to get through these horrific end times. I feel that artists like Romeo Diablos, Vicky/ Beauty Supply, and Leila Maeyhem are part of a larger network of people who are making the world more liveable.
Spaces like FKA Church are some of the last strongholds of the community networks we want to imagine and create while living under late stage capitalism and a fascist regime. I believe that our relationships and connections are the deepest things that can sustain us and that is part of being in a DIY culture. Without art, we would not have the needed life force to sustain us through fighting for a revolution. We need creation just as much as we need every other form of resistance. I hope that we will all be able to continue creating the world we want to see as this current one crumbles around us.
