Becoming Free

Abstract

I sit outside the main venue on a beautiful summer day at one of the largest Scandinavian punk festivals, with the bill including some 20 bands, mostly from Denmark and Sweden but also from Russia, Australia, Germany, Spain, and Holland. Apart from the bands, there are also a number of workshops and demonstrations. Next to me two of my Swedish informants are discussing how to spend the day. The bands will not start playing until 7.00 p.m. and it is now around noon. John, the older of the two, is bare-chested and covered with black tattoos, his head shaved apart from a short black stripe in the middle. Hanna, his friend, has dark messy hair, a black skirt, and a black singlet with the logo of an American punk band. They share a joint and some beer. Neither of them is wearing shoes. John asks Hanna if she is going to attend the demonstration later that afternoon. Hanna answers, “Who the fuck wants to attend a demonstration when you can booze?” John, more nervous this times, says, “But it is an anti-racism demo.” Hanna just shakes her head and mumbles, as if speaking to herself, replying, “Demonstrating, I’m not even fucking Danish.” Five minutes later Per walks by and asks them if they want to go with him to the demo. John answers, “No, we don’t care about that shit.” Per says “Ok,” and leaves (Field notes, Sweden, Aug. 2008).