The Shattering of Alice Glass
Trigger Warning
Two years ago, I attended a feminist event here in New York City. I struck up a conversation with a woman who, as it would happen, was a psychologist. As we were sipping on our champagne, there was a brief lull in our conversation and she takes the opportunity to lean over and say to me “I like that you’re a protector of women”. I had never met this woman before that evening and while she wasn’t wrong, it was a mystery as to what prompted her to say such a thing. Rather than ask why she thought that of me, I thanked her and got on with my evening. Later at home, I thought about what she had said to me. It wasn’t the fact that she knew something about me that she couldn’t have possibly known, it was what she said that concerned me. It was not a compliment, because, here was a powerful woman who was a CEO and owned businesses in New York, Spain, China, and England, and yet she felt comfortable being in the presence of a man who she thought would protect her, because, unfortunately, it is atypical for men to defend and protect women from other men. It’s sad but completely understandable when you consider that “[s]ome 47,000 women and girls worldwide were killed by their intimate partners or other family members in 2020. This means that, on average, a woman or girl is killed by someone in her own family every 11 minutes.” (Source) When you add in physical and emotional abuse, you begin to understand that, across the world, women are living in an almost constant state of anxiety and fear. There need to be more men willing to become feminists (or allies) and willing to protect women, but women aren’t waiting for us to wake the fuck up. They’re speaking up, speaking out, and, as you’ll soon learn about Alice Glass, channeling their anger and pain through songs that are sharp enough to cut through humanity’s apathy.
Somewhere during my journey to find something new and avant-garde to listen to through the first two years of the pandemic, I found Alice Glass (born Margaret Osborn). It was her collaboration with Alice Longyu Gao that brought her to my attention. Curious to know who this talented young woman was, I read an entry about her on Wikipedia. I didn’t get far before I started reading about her (alleged) assault and rape by former bandmate Ethan Kath (aka Claudio Palmieri). Both were musicians in the now-defunct Crystal Castles (which, I refuse to listen to, for obvious reasons). The next time that I would read about Alice it would be in her own words in a statement published on her website. Having had to protect my mother and siblings for years from my drunk and abusive father from the age of ten, you can probably imagine what I felt at that moment. There are few things I detest in the world more than I do men who emotionally and physically abuse women and/or murder them. The unfortunate thing about these heinous crimes is that they are too often underreported and unpunished. The abusive men who do go to prison usually get off with a light sentence. I’m sure that it was no simple task for Alice Glass to speak her truth in such a public forum, but I’m equally certain that publishing her statement was necessary for her mental and spiritual health that she may heal.
“We women have to stand up, speak out and stick together. To let each other know we got this and that if anyone comes creepy or with the wrong energy we’ll squash em in the grapes. And have fun doing it.”
The second time I listened to Alice’s music, I paid more attention than I had the last time (I tend to listen to music late at night under the influence). By the time I was halfway through, I began to truly understand her songs and I learned more about who Alice Glass is. Wanna-be philosophers like to say that humans have a good side and a bad side and it’s about balancing the two, blah, blah, blah. This is bullshit since we all possess various emotions and feelings. For every emotion, there is a different “you”; an angry you, a sad you, a happy you, etc. While it is possible to be two of these things at the same time, that still becomes a “you” who is unlike the others. I’m not a psychologist and I don’t know Alice, but in many of Alice’s songs, it seems as if there are two entities performing, in my opinion. Contrary to what one may
think, the two are not Margaret and Alice, they’re both Alice.
“Alice! Alice! Who the fuck is Alice?”
She sings in two distinctly different voices, Alice Glass. There is the one who gently croons and another who screams. I believe that one is representative of Margaret’s pain (the gentle one) and the other represents her anger. Both of them serve as Margaret’s protectors as well as her voice. Of course, all of this is nothing more than conjecture on my part. This is just how I feel when listening to Alice, though I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m right, to some extent. When you listen to Alice Glass, listen carefully. Give it as much attention as you can. While her music has evolved since going solo years ago, the (sad) story remains the same. Each song is a chapter of pain. Songs like “Love is Violence”, “I Trusted You”, and “Cease and Desist” are all testaments of love, betrayal, deception, and pain. Her latest album dropped a few days ago, “Prey//IV” and sounds raw and weary but resilient in the face of uncertainty and adversity. It’s not easy to confront one’s pain and look into its eyes without succumbing to melancholy, depression, and helplessness. Alice Glass does it for those who can’t. Whether or not this is to become her legacy to the women who suffer at the hands of men, only time will tell.
Art by ΛƧƬЯΛ ZΣЯӨ. Follow this link to read Alice’s Statement. Shop Alice. Follow Alice.
