At age 14, I was a punk. I don’t remember all the details, but the major signs were there. I frequented the Coffee Cellar, read zines and put RAPE stickers on stop signs all over East Memphis. I got my ear cartilage pierced at a mall kiosk on a 9th grade field trip and I threw a punk-tacular fit when my parents held me down to rip it out. According to the millenial punk rating system, the music I like from that era qualifies me as a fifth level punk. So you can trust me when I say the 3rd annual Memphis Punk Festival is worth your attention. Continue reading Punk Fest 2015
