Inventor of the genre “Acoustic oi!”, Jenny Woo is a solo female artist currently signed to Randale Records. She has over 20 years of experience touring in over 65 countries, with 7 full length albums and several EPs. She is also an activist for the inclusion of women in punk.
This article was originally published in SUBCULTZ (https://subcultz.com) on September 28, 2014.
When I was thirteen years old, I was miserable. I had acne, was limited to hand-me-down clothing from my older sister (who was 3 sizes smaller than me), I had no friends, and worst of all, I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. I was constantly exposed to pictures, music videos, and songs from mainstream pop stars; yet, I could never relate nor recognise what they were singing about.The supposedly universal topics of broken hearts, dancing, and teenage sexuality all seemed distant and irrelevant. I knew that I would never look like them, I would never live their lifestyle, but more importantly, I knew I never wanted to be like them. I was lost, different, and profoundly alone. Then, one day, my life changed forever.
I was in junior high, eating alone in front of my locker (as usual), when I came across an old fanzine on the floor of my school’s hallway, likely left behind by another student. Having nothing better to do, I started flipping pages. My attention was instantly drawn to something I had never seen before – a woman with spiked up blue hair, studs covering her black leather jacket, all the while, wailing on a guitar. It was a picture of Bekki Bondage, and that marked my first exposure to women in punk rock. Then and there, I decided that instead of unsuccessfully trying to fit in, I would do my best to stand out. I was inspired by Bekki’s outrageousness, her energy, her unfaltering self-confidence, to find that sense of passion and assurance in myself. I ripped the picture out of the magazine and pasted it into my locker as a reminder, and I’ve still got the photo after all these years.
Going punk was one of the most liberating experiences of my life. Instead of trying to squeeze myself into the teenage girl fashion there of the time, I cut my own path and made my own clothes. I found that by creating my own aesthetic, I avoided a lot of the societal pressure placed on adolescent girls to look and act a certain way. Instead of focusing on my body image, I embraced the fact that I was a unique person with a multi-dimensional world view and personality. Through bands such as The Wednesday Night Heroes, Cock Sparrer, and Riot 99 I learned to value authenticity, independence, and critical thinking, and I have no doubt that this subculture helped me create the strong sense of self that I have today. Punk rock is a potent medicine that I would prescribe to any young woman going through a crisis of confidence.
As the years went by I found myself getting more and more interested in oi! music, eventually cropping in as a skinhead. I still loved punk, but I no longer felt the need to spike my hair out in a million different directions in order to show the world that I was different. The internal changes I experienced were enough, so I wanted to find a subculture whose values incorporated not only the importance of being distinct, but also a sense of community, self-pride, and loyalty. I loved the fact that oi! music wasworking-class DIY music, and the fact that behind its apparent simplicity liessocial complexity and feeling. As a woman, I find that it is empowering to listen to music that exudes the values of unity, strength, and pride.
Another thing I love about oi! music is the aesthetic. Unlike rockabilly, mod, or the mainstream, skinhead women dress very similar to their male counterparts. I love going out in a pair of Levis, doc martens, and a button-down, because I feel like myself. Moreover, I love the imagery of the strong skingirl wielding a baseball bat and heading into battle alongside her friends. I’ve never been a big fan of pin-up calendars because I feel like the women portrayed in them are valued for their looks instead of their abilities. However, a lot of the iconic pictures of skingirls are based around their strength, courage, and loyalty, and I champion being a part of something that encourages strong values in both men and women.
That being said, the skinhead scene is rampant with sexism, and the more involved I become, the more this degree of exclusion is apparent. In 2007, I finally worked up the courage and the guitar skills necessary to join an oi! band. I broughtup the idea with a few friends in my hometown, and was thrilled when told that I could start playing guitar for an up-and-coming band in the area. However, before the first practise I was cornered by the group’s founder who said that he wanted to start a “tough” oi! band, and a woman like me would negatively affect this imagee. I was kicked out of the band before I even had a chance to strike a single chord, and I was livid. I started second-guessing my friendships and myself. I couldn’t grasp the simultaneous push of unity and the exclusion of women from participation.. It was this anger and stubbornness that eventually pushed me to get over my inability to start a band, and go solo.
Being just one person, I decided to start writing songs on an acoustic guitar, as I could both sing and play without needing a backup band. The first song I wrote was called “I’ll Rise Again,” an anecdote of my experience getting kicked out of the first band, and my attempt to give it a go on my own. I wrote songs reflectign my own experiences in the skinhead scene, and about the values of the movement. I was angry and hopingthat the real meaning behind mysongs would be distinctively evident as there as there was no distortion to mask the lyrics or the feeling in the music.
I recorded five of my songs, and I released them on a demo in 2008. I titled the album “acoustic oi!” because I wasn’t able play drums or electric guitar or bass on the demo, and I thought it would be interesting for people to listen to oi! in a stripped-down way. Naturally, I received criticism that my music wasn’t actual skinhead music as it lacked the fast and loud beat of typical oi!. However, I was encouraged by the fact that a few people approached it with an open mind, and that they heard the themes and values of the skinhead movement in the music, despite the fact that it was in a slightly different package. I started going to open stage nights in my hometown to gain experience on the stage, and I still remember the exact feeling of nausea, excitement, and nervousness that ensued. Sure, I was angry and I wanted to prove to myself that I could play, but I was not prepared for the feeling of humility that caame with being on stage alone, singing personal songs. It was probably one of the hardest things that I learned to do, but with the support of a few good friends, I got through it.
A few months later, and to my astonishment, I started getting messages from record labels in Europe. I had no idea why they would be interested in what I was doing, and I was overwhelmed with both excitement and dismay. Initially, labels seemed more interested in the fact that I was a woman playing music than in the actual music itself. To many, it was such an abnormalityfor a woman to go solo in the oi! business, and labelswere looking for a way that they could market this. I decided to sign with Randale Records because Diana, the owner of the label, seemed to believe in my music and in my potential as a musician. She told me about her experiences in the oi! scene, and warned me that it may not always be easy developing trust and respect as a female musician. I appreciated her honesty, and saw what she was offering as an opportunity to gain more exposure as a musician. I took a deep breath and a step forward.
Over the next few years, I worked hard to improve my musicianship by taking singing lessons on youtube, asking friends to teach me things on guitar, and by writing and re-writing songs that came from my life experiences and my emotional truth. I wrote and released two albums, touringthrough Canada, the United States, and Western Europe. I have so many great memories of meeting new people along my travels and getting to play with some of my greatest idols, such as TV Smith and Garry Bushell. Many of my stories about touring through Europe includemyself on a train, with just a bag full of “Jenny Woo Acoustic Oi!” tshirts and an acoustic guitar. In short, I would say that starting this music project was one of the best things I have ever done, and it continues to be one of the most fun and rewarding aspects of my life. However, this doesn’t dismiss the negative experiences that have come alongsideit.
I wanted to write this article from the perspective of a female musician and female participant in the skinhead movement, because I think that sexism is widespread throughout the scene, but often goes unseen oris accepted. There is a lack of women playing oi! music, especially compared with men. Moreover, there are relatively few women who are putting out fanzines, organizing gigs, or DJing. Seeing as there are just as many talented, hard-working, creative women out there as there are men, I started wondering why there aren’t more women actively participating in the oi! scene? It could be because the skinhead movement values violence, aggression, and sheer physical strength – values which do not necessarily dovetail with traditional feminine values. It could also be because there has been an overall lack of precedent for women involved in the oi! scene. Yet, more than anything, I think it is becauseof the general attitude that women should be seen,not heard, in the skinhead movement.
Of course, there are exceptions to this, with many proactive and positive bands and people out there. However, I have heard the phrase “there is no such thing as a skinhead girl, only a skinhead’s girl” no less than 100 times. I remember last week on the “Real American Oi!” forum someone posting a question “name your favourite female-fronted oi! band?” and there were about ten comments to the effect of “you’re joking” or “no such thing.” There are many oi! songs that portray women as tricking men, being demonic sluts, and making dinner, whereas only a handful of songs portray women in a positive and empowering light. To make it worse, there seems to be a general attitude of distrust and competition between women in the skinhead scene. I often hear women writing each other off as “oi! toys” or making comments about each others’ weight or size before taking the time to size up each other’s personality.
From my own experiences, I can say that being a woman performer in the world of oi! is not always a walk in the park. I have played to audiences where I hear shouts of “take off your shirt” over the sound of my own guitar. I’ve had people make sexual hand gestures to me on stage, even though my music has nothing to do with sexuality and I have never acted in a way to encourage sexual attention. I’ve been called everything from a “Japanese porn star” to a “bonehead’s wet dream” on both right-wing and left-wing websites. I’ve read critiques of my albums where the writer has found it necessary to criticize my body shape and weight, even when this has nothing to do with my music. I feel this is because women are held to a different standard in the oi! scene than men are. Male bands are often criticized for their musicianship, their politics, and their attitudes, but it is extremely rare to read a critique of a male oi! band on the basis of their sexual prowess or on their body image. On the contrary, women in the oi! scene are often reduced to their physical attributes. In my own experience, being reduced to this shallow definition of a human being can be shameful and alienating. It has the power of making one feel like less of a human being, it removes the value of everything one has accomplished or wants to achieve, and it makes one feel unworthy of basic respect. In short, I believe that it is the opposite of what the foundational values of being as skinhead are about.
It seems strange to me that despite the skinhead movement’s fight against racism, only a small number of people have commented on the outright and blatant sexism in the scene. Few people are willing to laugh at an overtly racist song; yet, many people laugh and freely play Prince Buster’s “Ten Commandments” without thinking twice. Perhaps it is because sexism is so entrenched in our society that we are normalized to it, many of us not recognizing it for what it is. Perhaps it is because many people in the skinhead scene cannot identify with the harm that is caused by sexual discrimination. Or perhaps it is because fighting sexism has been portrayed as being emasculating and even effeminate, while fighting racism has been portrayed as waging a holy war against a an absolute evil. I’m not sure what the reason is, but I am sure that sexism is as harmful and hateful as racism, and that if we are to fight one, by logical extension we ought to be prepared to fight the other.
Although there have been some challenges along the way, I have decided to keep taking steps forward with my music because I love playing and I believe in the songs I write. This movement is at the center of who I am, and I believe that I can contribute to it. I have also received a lot of positive support because I am a woman. For better or worse, the anomaly of having a woman playing a solo acoustic oi! show has intrigued people into my music, and I have gained more exposure because of it. I think that I have also gotten away with putting out a softer, mellower acoustic sound because I am a woman and there are different standards of “what’s tough” for women than there are for men. I have even had a few people say that they support me simply because I am a woman and they want to see more female musicians out there. I’d rather be supported because of my music than my gender, but I suppose one could say that, in spite of all the negative sexism out there, there is positive sexism out there too.
In an ideal world, there would be no need for “affirmative sexism,” as both women and men would be equally accepted and appreciated in the skinhead movement. I hope that we’ll get there one day. The most rewarding thing for me about being a female musician has been meeting and communicating with other skinhead women who are interested in what I am doing, and have offered to sing or play on my songs or have decided to write songs of their own. On the tough days, I remind myself of all the positive effects that my music has had, and I take my anger and resentment and channel it into marching forward and practising what I believe this movement is about – integrity, community, and self-pride.
I do believe that there is a great place for women in the oi! scene. Women are typically resilient, opinionated, and have many different experiences and talents that could contribute to the diversity and spirit of the movement. The oi! scene is the perfect place for women to exercise their talents and to speak openly, as the foundational values of the scene (theoretically) encourage women to be strong and independent. Unlike mainstream culture, skinhead fashion provides women an escape from pressure of dressing “sexy”,instead wearing clothes that allow them to fight, dance, and get up on stage. I know that for me, the punk and oi! scene gave me a way out of my miserable adolescent existence. Like the skinhead scene, I’m not perfect – but I owe it to the skinhead scene that at least I’m comfortable in my own skin. I hope that many other women in the future are given the same alternative.
So how do we get to this ideal world where men and women are appreciated and accepted equally in the skinhead movement? I think the first step is to recognize the fact that sexism exists, and that it stands in the way of our growing, thriving, counter-culture. I think we would do well by questioning the double-standard for men and women in the scene, and to be critical of both the blatant and commonplace sexism that is apparent in festivals, at shows, on the internet, and at the pub. We should use the spirit and the principles of the movement to encourage women to participate actively, and we should question our own deep-seated prejudices before we question the motives of others. Most importantly, despite all the stereotypes, the negativity, and the ignorance, we can’t back down and we can’t give up. I know that for myself, I’m planning on keeping myself on a stage, releasing music, and speaking out about this issue. I don’t have all of the answers, but I do believe that this is a good starting point, and with a lot of drive and courage, we’ll get there.
When I was thirteen years old, listening to Vice Squad and seeing pictures of Bekki Bondage on stage changed my life. I am looking forward to the day when the next generation opens up fanzines and turns up their stereos to see and hear even more strong skinhead women fighting the world, offering an alternative, and playing music from the heart.
You can listen to Jenny Woo on Spotify or check her out on Instagram.
