Gabriel:
Pete and I both came up out of punk, though very different scenes and different involvements. I never claimed to be part of any specific scene: I was pretty promiscuous and I liked what I liked. Growing up in the Bay there was more than enough punk to go around and people could pick and choose their scenes, but to me it was all good. I owned as many records on KRS, Lookout and K as Discord, Slap-A-Ham or Ebullition. Aesthetically I was down for anything, but I had soft-spot for political hardcore, peace punk, crust and d-beat. In some way the constantly changing “d” in Yellow Swans was a tribute “D-bands”: Discharge Yellow Swans, Disclose Yellow Swans, Detestation Yellow Swans, Dropdead Yellow Swans, Destroy! Yellow Swans, etc. I don’t think there’s actually anything about Detestifi that made me think it was especially crusty or primed for the stage at Gilman, but that wasn’t the point. Punk was a logic for how to be in a band, a way of living and being in community. Besides, I didn’t decide to be a punk just so I could sound like every other punk band.

Part of this shared ethos was a commitment to D.I.Y. and, like most things on JYRK, Detestifi was made by hand, made for cheap, and sold for $5. We mostly made discs like this to trade in the noise underground and give to friends. I can’t remember who the two people from the cover art are, but it was an ironic reference to something I would often say in response to folks who asked whether we were a rock band or an electronic duo. I’d say that we were a traditional rock band (duh...), that Pete was Robert Plant and I was Jimmy Page (and the rest of the band was our tables full of shitty gear). I hated the guitar on principle, and might have ditched it early on in the project, but I felt like using a guitar helped make sense of what otherwise was a wall of abstraction, a signifier that let our audience know that they could experience this music viscerally like they would any other band.

A while after this cdr came out we were playing in Rochester on the invitation of Pengo at the one all-ages venue in town. The promoter got in touch before we left for tour and sheepishly asked if we wouldn’t mind opening for D.O.A. and the Dickies instead - we had a hold for the night which he would honor, but those bands would be a big show for the club. We agreed to it, and when we got to Rochester we set up on the floor, played an intense, fast and loud 10 minute set, and then sat back to have a beer. A grey haired guy who was there for D.O.A. ran up to us super excited and we had this back and forth:
“What was that? What do you call that?”
“Well, it's called ‘noise’ actually”
“Really? You actually call it that?”
“Well, we actually think of it as punk.”
“Really? ‘Cause I think that’s what it is!”
Or something like that.