The Standard Of Comparison
Pure. Self contained. I can feel the weight of my body as my voice strains. Desensitized from beauty scenes, the enemy is the fear that falls in between. My soul is not for sale. I have not forgotten my past and I will not remove the nails. I refuse to break, I talk back. Everyone needs a scapegoat. Although women have come a long way in the music business there is no doubt that prejudice and sexism still exist both above and below the surface of the scene we have helped to create. It has been hard to break free of the typical female shaped stereotpyes which do not allow us to be judged on our individual skills and lyrical content but rather the size of our bra cup. In the media savvy world of rock n' roll, sex and exploitation have become an art form, which makes it that much harder when women buy into the idea that if we show our tits for a poster it will help us sell records. If you pose half-naked for a magazine then don't complain when your band and music take the backseat as your boobs ride shotgun in the future. I have been asked to take my clothes off on many occasions and chose not, simply because I felt it was unnecessary. We all have our own ideas about how we want to be perceived and I respect the fact that we all make our own choices. I myself have posed provacatively for pictures and even though I was fully clothed it struck a chord with some who felt I crossed the line and questioned the intentions behind the photos. The question is when is it gratuitous and when is it empowerment? And what is the difference between the two? Is there a comparison? It is a well known fact that I've developed a dislike for certain journalists over the past few years. I don't care about bullshit. I don't care to hear it or speak it. I have received both good and bad reviews over the past few years. It's my belief that if you let the accolades define you then you will let the insults diminish you and it is then that you have bought into the bullshit. I refuse to go quietly so I have always spoken my mind very loudly when I believed that either myself or my band were being attacked. I have never talked behind people's backs or hid my contempt for the press to protect myself from any possible backlash either. Instead I have gone straight for the face and called them as I saw them. Telling the truth and talking back does not always win friends or popularity contests. I have read numerous comments from certain Hammer writers, as well as other publications, which have found it necessary to compare me with such women such as Tobey Torres, Jessicka, Morgan Lander, Christina Scabbia, Aimee Echo and even Meg Lee Chin. For what reason I have no idea. These are all talented musicians who have carved out their own significant place in the ever-changing face of rock, just as I have. It's pointless to compare artists simply because they are both women and may have similar looks when they share nothing in common artistically. Music has always helped me to vent my anger, my pain and my frustration. It's not something I have chosen to do for superficial reasons. True passion and conviction comes from within. While it may be true that I do have an "instinctive desire to confront anyone who blackens my name", it is not true that I do this to "ensure my profile remains high" as a writer called Phil Ascott review of My Ruin/SugarComa a while back. Insinuating that my profile means more to me than my self-respect is about as fucked up as someone once insinuating that I needed to stop eating doughnuts and lose weight! The world of rock is filled with people who have lots to tell but nothing to say. I'm here to say that while I have been force fed your insecurities I have bled with no regrets, for what I have said before or for what I plan to say next

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