I want to preface this by stating plainly and clearly, I am neither a writer nor a music critic. The many talents of the writer who initially covered this show were nothing against the aliens who abducted him and systematically dismantled his brain. Now the task of reporting on this show falls to me, the photographer, so I will do so to the best of my abilities.

When I arrived, Mo Karnage, the show’s organizer, was requesting X’s for her hands, despite being over 21. This vegan anarchist straightedge punk, with her vegetable-guzzling truck parked across the street, is someone who stands out in any crowd. Active in Food Not Bombs and The Really Really Free Market, on this night Mo’s exuberant energy was honed on everything running smoothly for this Zine benefit. While another Zinefest organizer, Nicole Miesnik, manned the goodies table cluttered with buttons, mystery bags, zines, and other treats for sale, Mo was buzzing around The Camel excitedly before the show began.

The first band up was Joy Deemster, two chicks with acoustic guitars that they traded back and forth between songs. They were quaint and weird, and had me giggling more than once at their humor-sprinkled lyrics with just a dash of heartfelt soul-searching. I was most intrigued by the post-it covered, glitter coated guitar that shimmered in the stage lights.

Next up was Folk the System from VA Beach. I got a good punch in the arm from a friend who arrived in the middle of their set saying, “You didn’t tell me they were playing! I love these guys!” It felt like story-time in kindergarten as we sat with our legs sprawled out almost to the feet of the band who serenaded us without a piece of electronic equipment. They also kept up some witty repartee with the audience between songs. I wanted to clap with glee when one guitarist finally picked up the toy xylophone for their last song and tinked out a few notes. Nothing gets me going like novelty instruments.

Switching gears completely, Zebu was a far cry from the swaying, folksy acoustic tunes the night had presented thus far. Consisting of a guitarist (electric) and a drummer playing a three piece set, the two Massachusetts natives thrashed around stage belting fast riffs that far superseded the energy of Mo hopped up on generic Redbull. The guitarist gave up singing halfway through the set because no one could hear him anyway, and the sound was so intense it had my stomach acid crawling up my throat. I must have burped an average of three times per song.

Finally it was time for the big Richmond craze, Pedals On Our Pirate Ships, aka POOPS. It was a standard POOPS performance, and even had a surfer joke for the benefit of the VA Beach kids. I won’t attempt to write it, because it just won’t work in type. As usual, the whole band couldn't stop smiling, and I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of the oddly inquisitive faces of the drummer, Louis.

All and all it was a classic good Richmond folk-punk show. The show raised around $120 for the Zinefest, which is at Gallery 5 during November’s First Friday.

By Photographer and Staff Coordinator: Megan Wagner

Megan earned her BFA in photography from VCU and has studied art for over 10 years. She has been living with musicians for most of her 4 years in Richmond, often photographing band practices to take a break from her fine-art photography homework. Though she has no musical talent (unless you count some wicked finger-drumming), music has always been a strong influence in her life, and she almost never leaves the house without headphones on. She's been a die hard Tool fan for seven years, though she has an eclectic taste ranging from Cake to The Coup. Check out some of her other photography at wagnerme.com.

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