No Barbies Allowed
An Interview With Beauty Brains
November 26, 2019
BALDWIN PARK – We’re sitting on the laminate floor in the middle of the VFW Baldwin Park’s meeting room adjacent to the bar.
The track lighting is partially on, a contrast to the usual darkness and crashing noise that envelopes the place when bands play inside there. It’s the perfect spot for the members of San Gabriel Valley punk band Beauty Brains to talk about their music and the scene. The spot for local punk shows is the venue of the band’s very first gig in 2017 when the current lineup was solidified with Misty Meza on vocals and guitar, Melody Corza on bass and Leslie Campos pounding away at the drums.
“I sprained my ankle,” Campos said of that first show. “My ankle was already sprained; I sprained it a month before we were supposed to play, and I was bed resting for a while. The day of the show, it was good. Then I went in the pit. I stepped on a beer can and I fucking sprained my ankle. That shit hurt so bad. I have PTSD now. If there’s beer cans in the pit, I am the one to kick it out.”
“It was during the Local Retards pit,” Meza said. “I looked away for a second, and I smashed into the tree.”
The two laughed as they remembered limping out of the way and out of the pit that night.
“That fucking night was sick,” Campos said, pushing past the actual injury.
Go to shows where the trio are playing or just there for the music and they’re usually the ones out there dancing – participating – regardless of whether others are also in the pit.
That intense sort of energy and love for shows and their scene radiates out from this band, which is named after a spin off the phrase “beauty and brains,” which Meza saw scrawled on a necklace while walking around Olvera Street in downtown L.A.
The song, “Barbie” was one of the first Meza wrote – she had an arsenal of some 30 already written before the three got together. And, it in some ways encapsulates this band – aggressive, yet skilled, in their ability to weave in and out of different, most would agree, important social and political topics without coming off as preaching.
“I was just sitting in class and I sat next to a group of fucking boys that would just talk about their idea of the perfect girl,” Meza said of why “Barbie” was written. “For them, obviously, she has to have a big rack, a big ass, perfect skin, perfect hair and that’s when the whole Barbie thing came to mind. I was like, ‘OK, they want plastic.’”
There’s songs about two-faced people, songs about the working class and capitalism and the song “Go Go Juice” about getting over nerves before a show.
It helps that they’re so down to Earth.
“It’s all about the fun,” Corza said of the band.
The other two would agree, but Meza added, “In the very beginning, originally, my goal was to put everything that I’ve written or any idea out there. I always kept saying ‘I’m going to start a band. I’m going to start a band.’ I never did. So I just want to be able to say ‘I did this. I kept my promise to myself.’
All three hail from the San Gabriel Valley, with Corza and Campos from La Puente and Meza from Alhambra. Although, Meza said she spends so much time in the former she counts herself an honorary resident.
They recently completed work on an EP, with the ultimate goal of being able to travel out of state to play.
What they do outside of the band is just as diverse as what they sing about. Corza works as a medical assistant, but also draws and skates. Meza works in retail and draws and writes. Campos, a member of the Pomona chapter of M.E.Ch.A. (Movimiento Estudiantil Chicano de Aztlan) is currently in school for ethnic studies with the goal of getting into the law.
“I’ve always had a loud voice and I just like sticking up for people,” Campos said. “I want to help out people who don’t have money out there to be spending on a [legal] defense. I’m also really into activism.”
She brings the conversation closer to home and how that fits within the context of activism in the scene.
“Before,” Campos said, “people would use racial slurs or homophobic slurs and they just did it because ‘Dude, we’re punk rock and you shouldn’t be so PC,’ and it’s like dude…”
“That’s not punk rock,” Meza said.
“Yeah, like, who are you to pick and choose what offends others?” Campos continued. “There’s people who are like, ‘Ah, you just have to take shit up the ass’ and I’m like, ‘Nah, there’s people who are there getting offended. There’s people out there who have been through shit you haven’t been through. You’re just speaking out your ass.’ But there’s also people who are inspiring. Graveyard Junkies. [They are] active ass bitches. They’re about what they talk about. That’s the shit you need in the scene.”
Movements from the past, such as riot grrrl, they agree are alive and well but as with anything, it’s morphed over the course of time. And the modern day would seem to require new takes on concepts from decades ago.
“I feel like some girls just wear it for a fashion statement. Real shit,” Campos said. “Some are just like ‘We’re girls and we’re hard.’ Yeah, you’re girls and you’re hard, but are you really doing anything to stop the oppression of other women? Are you really doing anything to use your advantage of your color to help people who aren’t your color? Or, even people who aren’t born women.”
“I just feel like everyone makes everything into a fashion statement, rather than actually trying to figure out how to resolve the problem,” Meza added.
The conversation winds its way around to skateboarding and the San Gabriel Valley scene. Then it’s about being shy, how Campos is used to the spotlight after being on the drum line in school, interesting backyard shows and staying D.I.Y., before ultimately swinging back around again to why Beauty Brains began and a desire to come through loud and clear.
“The whole starting the band,” Meza said, “I think the reason why I wanted to start it was I always felt like I was ignored. Every time I would say something, nobody would fucking listen to me, until it was too late. So every time I’m up there and I’m doing my thing, I feel this energy and this power that I never thought I could feel. And I feel like, wow, for once in my fucking life, I feel like everyone’s fucking listening to my nonsense and they like it. Some of them might not, which I don’t give a shit. But it feels good. It’s a good feeling.”