On a recent evening, McKay is chain-smoking, her tiny body perched elegantly on a sofa alongside drummer Jeffrey Truckenmiller. She's discussing her new self-described position as the "go-to" for all things trans, something she began experiencing after playing the farewell show for local punk band Brain Tumors in July.

"I'm up onstage and this is the first time most of the people there had heard of us, and most people there didn't really know me as an individual," McKay recalls ahead of her band's cassette-release party for debut full-length Art Failures this Friday at the 7th Street Entry. "Suddenly I throw myself into the audience and accidentally hit somebody and boom — I'm the authority on all things trans."

She says she relishes the role, even though the increased attention takes some getting used to.

"That was part of why I wanted to play in this band, because there was a need for it," she says, referring to trans awareness. "It is a lot of pressure, because people are kind of constantly watching you."

Save for veteran glam-rock outfit All the Pretty Horses, there aren't many other trans-fronted bands in the local music scene, and Naïve Sense guitarist Thomas Rehbein is wary about the very term "trans-fronted band."

"It's not a marketing thing," he says. "We don't want to contribute to queer erasure. For me, having [trans-fronted] in the title is important. If I just said, 'Hey, we're a hardcore band,' I feel like I'm drawing a big black X over my queer friends."

"Hardcore is very hyper-masculine," Truckenmiller cuts in. "I kind of hated hardcore for a while because it's so hyper-masculine driven."

The band members discuss opening at a recent G.L.O.S.S. show, where the Olympia, Washington, hardcore band called for all queer, trans, and femme identified fans to come to the front of the crowd. McKay supported the protest move, one intended to create an inclusive space for all.

"Imagine having all of your shows that you go to, having to sit in the back because you don't feel included," Naïve Sense bassist Mikey Hansen says. "I don't think you should be getting shit. You should be included."

Art Failures began as a series of rough demos from McKay and Rehbein, which they posted online earlier this year. Soon after, Truckenmiller and Hansen were recruited, and Naïve Sense was formed.

"The way we write is different because we don't really write outside of the practice space," Rehbein says. "You just stick us all in a room together and see what happens."

The result is a blistering 12-track hardcore album that incorporates elements of shoegaze and even noise music. Rehbein plays with hollow-bodied guitars and fuzz pedals, subtly flipping a middle finger at what's expected in hardcore. Recorded, mixed, and produced by scene veteran Knol Tate, the album is fun, but also serious.

The songs comprising Art Failures explore both heavy issues and reveal inside jokes, like the seven-second track "Land Shark," which the band insists is the most technical song on the album. McKay was in the practice space writing lyrics when Rehbein ran upstairs and declared, "I really wanna write a song called 'Land Shark.'"

Fifteen minutes later, the band had a "ridiculous," head-spinning power violence tune. On the other end of the spectrum, "Vices" and "Disorder Control" tackle chemical dependency issues. Songs like "Manufactured Discontent" are McKay's means of calling out the macho nature of hardcore.

"To write this song was to kind of be like, 'Wow, fuck this shit,'" she says. "I don't get why you're trying to pull your cock out and swing it around, and ... what are you doing? You look like an idiot. You're punching random people in the face and they probably don't appreciate it."

Naïve Sense was born out of a time of great vulnerability, particularly in McKay's life. She came out publicly as transgender in 2013, and quickly learned to lean on the support of friends rather than family while transitioning.

"I'm very adamant about queer and trans exposure, and living my life and kind of demanding acceptance," she says. "That's why punk is so important to me, because there's sort of this in-your-face, 'This is who I am, fuck your standards [feel to it].'"



For her, making the decision to transition was the first step in adopting that mantra offstage. In fact, looking back, she sees it as a life-saving move on her part.

Last year, McKay decided to enter a treatment program for substance abuse, primarily to address a drinking problem she could no longer control, one that had left her jobless and miserable.

"One day, after a while of medically transitioning, I looked in the mirror and I could finally recognize myself. I could finally see, 'This is you!'" she exclaims with a bittersweet smile. "But at the same time, I didn't necessarily like the person looking back at me because I could finally see all the problems going on."

McKay remembers receiving love and support from Truckenmiller and Hansen before they began playing music together. And for years, Rehbein has acted like a big brother figure. Today, the four function as a family. "Natalie has always been my little sister, and prior to the transition my little brother," Rehbein says.

The night after Naïve Sense's interview with City Pages, a crowd is gathered in the basement of a house in north Minneapolis. McKay is crouched on the floor, screaming harshly into the microphone. Truckenmiller has discarded his shirt and is pounding on the drums, while Rehbein and Hansen loom menacingly with their guitars.



It's been a rough day for McKay — she just discovered a woman she'd been in treatment with was murdered the night before. All of that anger and anxiety is palpable in her performance. She throws herself into the audience, lurching from one side of the basement to the other, screaming into the microphone. She appears possessed. "As soon as I get the microphone and that first note hits ... I black out," she says.

Music is her fix, and we all feel the contact high. The audience is disoriented, dizzied by the performance, as if having been woken from a noisy dream — one they wouldn't mind going back into.