Tell us about you!
My name is Rachel Naomi Stoll. I am an artist/writer/vocalist and longtime showgoer from Little Rock, Arkansas. I am transgender. I have been going to shows since I was 14. I’m 30 now, and I have been playing in bands and making music since my twenties. I’m a thorough archiver of the music scene here in Arkansas. I have kept just about every flier that’s ever been handed out and have journaled every show I have been to and kept lists of every band I have seen. I have been in about seven music videos of Arkansas bands. I’ve modeled, booked shows—you name it. I’ve had my hand in it. Music, art, and community are my passion.
I am currently a writer. I am working on a compilation of poetry I plan to release as a zine, focusing on the subjects of Arkansas poverty, childhood, the South, and the working-class experience. I am the vocalist of xTHREATx, a local youth revival band, and I do vocals in a screamo band called Horse Funeral. I have been in several other bands as well.
What’s currently on your playlist?
Some of my Top records I know there’s some horrible takes in here and I’m gonna get crucified but I am talking about sonically what makes me set on fire Antioch arrow : gems of masochism Daughters: hell songs Dangers : messy The Smiths – the queen is dead Psychic tv : dreams less sweet At the drive in – relationships Death in June : nada! Morrissey: bona drag Oxbow : an evil heat Brian Eno : warm jets Us Maple : long hair Elvis Presley – Elvis Presley The austerity program: backsliders Big black : songs about fucking These arms are snakes : oxeneers Old dirty bastard : return to the 36 chambers Pg99 : doc#8 New York dolls – self titled (this is new ) Sightings : s/t Some of my favorite hardcore bands: Cold world Youth of today The swarm Ink and dagger Have heart Integrity American nightmare
Define Straight Edge.
Straight edge, to me, is an extension of punk rock and hardcore—a community within a community. I’ve been here a long time. I have gone to hardcore shows all over the U.S. Something I can tell you is hardcore at home is going to bear some similarities to the hardcore I’ll experience in Chicago or Texas. The community feels so tight and familiar; it’s a blanket. I can walk into a space and see my people, know they are my people. Straight edge is an extension of that—a promise to be a solid person, to be a healthy person, to be a more divine person, for me, myself, and everyone around us. To actively make a choice that’s a healthy choice—it’s an act to be healthy and smart and a pillar in your community. Straight edge is about being the kind of person who is asking questions before doing something.
Being a philosopher, taking a step above and asking, “Why am I doing this?” “Should I be doing this?” “How does this affect people?” Not everyone is like this, but I do think that it comes with the territory. You’re already asking questions—that’s what led you here.
How important is music to your relationship with straight edge?
I don’t think so. I think you have to have some relationship to music, to art, to the DIY community, to the punk rock community, to the hardcore community to really understand what it is, where it came from, what it’s doing, and why it’s still prevalent.
What’s your straight edge story?
So I got introduced to that at a very young age, probably 13 or 14, going to shows and being around other people who were straight edge at the time. I was also Christian. It was during that weird period of Christian metalcore being the most accessible space for me, and it was full of people who were straight edge. The music community was a stark difference from the grating, harsh, and punishing experience I had in my small town. Have Heart was probably the band that really pushed me to think in a healthier, smarter, and wider way. Have Heart kinda helped me realize it would be a smart idea to dissolve my ego and think about the wider world around me, and made me realize there are things bigger than these people. It almost trivialized the things that were happening to me and made me feel driven to become more wise and ask bigger questions, like why, and probably pushed me to be so vocal like I am today.
Seeing all the harmful effects drugs had on the people around me, and me having loved these people, I experienced several friends die at the hands of fentanyl. I had a friend of mine—his name was Josh—and he died. He was around 17 years old. I was a younger kid, and I used to skateboard with him. I went to his house, and I didn’t know that Josh had died, actually, because it literally had just happened. I was told by his mom when I went to his house to see if he wanted to skateboard, and his mom broke down in front of me and gave me his Enjoi board. That was a really big one.
I also had another friend of mine, Dallas, who I would eat lunch with in ninth grade, and he died. I saw the impact that his death had on my entire friend group. He died from having a seizure from taking research chemicals. Drugs have not been a very expanding experience; it’s only been harmful, and I think that really drove me to want to stay away from it.
How straight edge influenced your relationships?
I think, interestingly enough, it’s had kind of a so-so effect. I’ve dated several people who still did drugs, smoked weed, did ketamine, and I think it kind of pushed me away and put me into a separate lot of people again. Going to house shows, going to DIY spaces, a lot of people are doing drugs there, and a lot of people automatically think that you’re judging them or kind of feel like you have some higher attitude. When you mingle that into your relationships, it can be kind of harmful. So I would always try to downplay or be casual about who or what my particular philosophical beliefs were, but I think that it created a stigma that I was always judging them for their drug use, which I wasn’t. I really didn’t care. They make their own choices, as long as they weren’t getting hurt.
At other times, I think that it was really good, and that people thought I was a safe space, or that I was the person who was always going to be sober, and they knew that they could talk to me and that I could be grounding and provide a sense of reality to the situation. I could always be somebody that somebody could come to.
Looking back, is there anything about path into and through straight edge that you would do differently?
I think some of the macho-man bullshit that I ended up seeing a lot kind of made it feel more like a welcoming space for queer people and people who were artists, at least in Arkansas. It really doesn’t have to be a bunch of tough dudes who are into stuff like One Life Crew. It can be the weird guy who’s into noise rock and into Reversal of Man or screamo or whatever.
True or False: “If you’re not now, you never were”?
This is a really big and complicated question. I don’t think you can really claim edge until you really understand who you are as a person, and that comes at different times for different people.
Have you encountered any challenges or misconceptions about being straight edge?
Yeah, like I said, a lot of people think you’re trying to judge them, trying to make them feel like they’re less of a person for doing drugs, and I don’t think that’s a good thing. I think we who do try to take this kind of walk in life need to be vocal about the mental illness that is addiction and understand that this is a sickness, and fight the war on drugs. We need to not judge but be there for each other, because ultimately the way drug addiction is today is a product of capitalism.
Do you feel that your gender or age has influenced your experience within the straight edge and hardcore scenes?
Well, I came out about 10 years ago as a trans woman, and I was bisexual my whole life before that. I think, yeah, it was kind of intimidating, because when I was younger, people were a lot less accepting in this community. I was kind of the first person in the hardcore community—not the DIY community, but the hardcore community—that, at least in my generation and two generations before, hardcore in Little Rock had seen as a trans woman. That was kind of weird to navigate.
The punk rockers had maybe two other trans girls and then me, and then the hardcore community had me, and it was like, oh s***, this is new ground, this is new territory. A lot of people were actually really happy about it and accepting. Some people were accepting but also kind of didn’t really understand the language, or it was still foreign to them. So they were wanting to be accepting but kind of struggling to really understand what they were supposed to do—not to say that they were supposed to do anything, but they had this feeling that they were supposed to do something.
I think there was a little bit of a challenge of them kind of pushing the boundary of what their heteronormativity tells them what a woman should be. Essentially, I think it really challenged even their ideas of feminism and womanhood. But ultimately, Arkansas has always been, at least in its art community, attempting to be progressive and accepting and loving, and they did a lot more than I had expected them to. They really tried, and I love them. I love Arkansas and wouldn’t ask for anyone else. Shout out, TN. Shout out, Second Life.
In your view, how inclusive is the straight edge movement?
In Arkansas, the straight edge community is really small. All in all, in the Midwest, it’s very inclusive, but on the broader spectrum, when I see spaces that aren’t so inclusive, I do see those politics challenged. So all in all, I do feel there’s a strong sense of inclusivity.
Have you observed any evolution in the straight edge scene regarding acceptance and diversity?
Absolutely. I think hardcore music and straight edge music and punk rock music today are a lot more accepting. It’s a lot less harmful, it’s a lot less aggressive, and it’s a lot less about trying to push the macho man b*. I have seen a little bit of that attitude try to make a comeback, but I also am seeing it challenged.
This interview has been lightly edited for grammar and punctuation. All responses reflect the interviewee’s original words and meaning.
