Alice Bag

Queen’s Quilt , words and music by Alice Bag

My mother was very self-reliant and (it seemed to me) she could just as easily patch a hole in a leaking roof as she could prepare a delicious meal out of practically nothing. This song is based on my real life. I think it’s perfect for Mother’s Day.

One night after the sun had set, we got into our old car and drove downtown to the clothing manufacturing district, now known as L.A.’s garment district. My parents parked the car in the darkness across the street from a factory loading dock and told me to wait inside. I could see them clearly illuminated by the security floodlights as they approached a row of a half dozen steel dumpsters, lined up alongside the ledge of a loading dock. My father lowered himself into the first one, and his head disappeared below the edge for a few seconds while my mother looked around nervously. There weren’t any chainlink fences guarding the dumpsters, but something about the way my parents were acting told me they were breaking the law.

My father’s head reappeared as he handed my mom several large bolts of fabric — remnants left over from the manufacturing processes of coats, pants and dresses. After they’d sorted through the first dumpster, they repeated the process until they had gathered a large assortment of scrap fabric, sample books and remnants from the ends of fabric bolts.We hit several dumpsters over the next few weeks. I was never allowed to jump into a dumpster because my father said they were dirty and unsafe, but my parents had found a good source of heavy fabric that my mom could use to make quilts. These quilts would then be sold at the local swap meet along with any other salvaged items that had been rescued from the dumpsters. By night, my mom and dad climbed into bin after bin to collect the scraps that would enable our family to survive the financial drought. By day, my dad looked forwork or scavenged for broken machines he could repair and sell, while my mom’s sewing machine whirred nonstop.

My mother saved the softest, most luxurious scraps of velvet and velveteen that she came across and used them to sew a special quilt for me. It looked so plush and fancy that she called it my “Queen’s Quilt.” That name and the fact that my father called me “La Reina” (The Queen) made the quilt very dear to me. I still have it. Over the years, it’s lost its plushness and looks a little mangy in spots, but it still brings me all kinds of warm, happy, hopeful feelings. 

- The Queen’s Quilt, from Violence Girl 

My punkchera version of Cuando El Destino for #CincoDeMayo, all you need is some tequila.

Little Hypocrite, a new song I just wrote for The She*Riffs. Check out the demo version here. First 100 downloads are free! 

I’m calling you out, little hypocrite 
You think you’re so stealth, little hypocrite
You’re fooling yourself, little hypocrite
But it’s over, it’s over…

I wrote this song a few days after I returned from LA Zinefest. I was inspired by my fellow panel member Drew Denny who had to overcome homophobia disguised as religion when she was growing up. I was fortunate to also meet Cristy C. Road at the same event. She gave me a copy of her graphic novel Spit and Passion, where she deals with similar themes.

Musicians are The She*Riffs: Chela Mischke: bass, backing vocals, Dana S.: lead guitar and backing vocals, Ms. Amy Young: drums and backing vocals, Alice Bag: guitar and lead vocals.

The Touch I Crave
words and music - Alice Bag

You say I’m bad
You same I’m dirty
And for this sin I’m committing
That god will punish me

The touch I crave
(depraved)

Guess I was damned
From the beginning
Cause when I do what feels right
You tell me that I’m sinning

The touch I crave
( depraved)

You’re Sick, sick, sick

(You’re sick…)
I know you hate me,
(Sick)
You’ll never break me
(Sick)
Can’t make me sick (like you)

You’re full of anger
You’re in the dark
But you’ll never soil the contents of my heart