I first heard about Laura Jane Grace, lead singer of Against Me!, in 2012, just after the debut of the Rolling Stone article detailing her coming out. Admittedly, it was more of a passing recognition. Though I was exploring my own gender identity at the time, I think I felt disconnected to the trans community in general, and therefore didn’t pursue her music. The only song I remember connecting to at the time was Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush. Not a bad thing at all, but there was certainly a feeling of adoption with that song. I knew it wasn’t meant for me, but I claimed it anyway.

For a long time, I didn’t have any music to relate to. It was only in early 2014 that I heard Against Me!‘s latest album, Transgender Dysphoria Blues. For the first time I felt that someone was singing about me. Laura’s songwriting has always been brutally truthful, and when applied to her experiences as a trans woman, it made all the difference. She didn’t sugarcoat her pain and her frustrations, and let her humanity shine through. I feel that the media has a tendency to paint trans people as brave kings and queens, often ignoring the struggles that they deal with. Transgender Dysphoria Blues was a stepping stone into a different way of thinking, and it made me recognise that my own struggles were worthy of discussion.

Following that, I began to sift through Against Me!‘s discography. I found many other tracks that I loved, particularly Thrash Unreal, Holy Shit, and Pints of Guinness Make You Strong. It was music that spoke to me. Thus an obsession was born. I currently have 220 Against Me! tracks on my computer (227 if you include Laura’s own Heart Burns). In fact, it was their music that kickstarted my vinyl collecting habit. Every album of theirs is like a snapshot in time, and looking through that back-catalogue with modern context paints a picture of Laura that no one had seen. Specifically, there was one EP that really stood out to me, titled The Disco Before The Breakdown.

Upon it’s release in 2002, it didn’t receive great reviews. With horns and seemingly generic lyrics it seemed like a real oddball amongst Against Me!‘s other releases. Of course, looking back now it is easy to see what Laura was trying to say with the lyrics “And can you live with what you know about yourself / when you’re all alone, behind closed doors? / The things we never said, but we always knew were right there.”

I distinctly remember listening to the track Tonight We’re Gonna Give It 35% on a train to Nottingham Gender Identity Clinic. Looking out the carriage window, the lyric “If you’d told me about all this when I was fifteen, I never would have believed it” reverberated in my mind. I decided then, that if Laura can feel that way a decade ago and still come through the other end, the least I can do is be who I want to be. Having a voice like hers pushing me forward got me to where I am today, and while it’s still slow-going most of the time, I finally have the drive to reach my goals.

Of course, when I heard Against Me! were doing a UK tour in November I jumped at the chance. I was living in Leicester at the time, so I went to the Birmingham show. Shouting the words to their anthems, it only took until the third song for my voice to become hoarse. It was really great to see the new lineup live too: Inge Johansson was jumping up and down with a heavy bass slung over his shoulders, and Atom Willard was having a hell of time smashing the drums. James Bowman, Against Me! pioneer, channelled all of his energy into his singing and playing, while Laura Jane Grace leant out to the crowd, roaring into the mic. I want to be clear. Laura’s contribution means a hell of a lot to me, but I also think the current lineup is fantastic. Every person in that band is where they need to be.

After the show, I hung around with a bunch of people behind the venue, hoping to catch a glimpse of Laura. I wanted to tell her how much her music meant to me – so much so that I’d written a letter detailing my experiences with the band. Only Atom Willard appeared first. He didn’t know whether Laura would come out to meet us, so I decided to give him the letter. He jokingly complained that all the letters are always for Laura. I made a mental note to speak to him more the next time I saw him.

After about an hour or so of waiting, Laura Jane Grace made her appearance, smoking a cigarette up against a brick wall. I can’t remember what words were exchanged, but I came away feeling very different about her. For a while, I had idolised this woman. She was my role model. On stage, she was every bit the person that I imagined her as, but now that I had met her, I realised she was a human being. It made me want to be myself, rather than just an emulation of her. It also made my gushy letter seem horribly silly.

I decided to attend a second show, snagging a ticket for The Electric Ballroom in Camden Town at the last minute. This time around I had a couple of friends there. We all managed to squeeze ourselves to the front of the barrier, a huddle of queer trans punks. There was some kind of magic in the room that night. When the band came out on stage, I realised how far I’d come. How far we’d all come. There were tears, and there were joined hands in the air, and once again I lost my voice. When it finally came to the encore, and the crowd were singing Sink, Florida, Sink, I knew I had found my home. It’s also worth noting that the crowd’s version of that song can be heard on their upcoming live album 23 Live Sex Acts. The original can be found below.

I went for drinks with the band, and I made sure to tell Atom I thought his playing on the Daytrotter and Antiquiet sets was awesome. We were all joking and chatting and venting. It was just nice to be surrounded by people who understood each other. For a brief night, the world felt that much more positive.

Last Sunday, August 2nd, I went to see Laura play in Hackney. From what I heard, she was doing a press tour before she played the UK festivals, so she had booked a small slot at Lion Records. I saw all my friends once again, and it was great to re-enter that world for a few hours while I waited in line. With fifty of us packed into a tiny record shop, Laura prefaced the song Dead Friend saying that it was great we were all here, and that we were all alive today.

And I couldn’t agree more.