Permanent Wave

Here’s what a Permanent Wave-sponsored show looks like in practice: A loud electro thump crashes into the graffitied warehouse walls of 285 Kent, a club in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Staccato guitars and unstoppable drums loop around each other as J.D. Samson becomes one with the crowd. “Who am I to feel so free?” she hollers into a sea of waving arms. “Who am I?” Every audience member seems to take the question personally, throwing it back not only at Samson, but at an unseen force of oppression that seems to exist in the air right above them. It’s sarcastic, but deadly serious: “WHO. AM I. TO. FEEL SO FREE.”

The chant ends, and Samson’s band, MEN, steps back. Everyone needs a moment to catch their breath. Suddenly a young woman gets on stage, doesn’t bother to announce her name, and demands that the crowd take control of their own bodies: “Tell this to the ads in the subway, the billboards on the street: ‘I’m beautiful just the fucking way I am!’ ” (I’m paraphrasing, but that’s the gist of it.) The crowd is with her, but they seem mostly stunned. Who is she, after all, to feel so free? That’s when it becomes clear that no one here has seen anything like Permanent Wave.