.It's 1998, and suddenly I'm a teenager. Life sucks

In the afternoons I smoke cigarettes and kick pebbles around with friends in the parking lot of McDonalds. My studded belt, vintage jeans and long-defunct-punk band t-shirt draw the attention of some older kids, also dressed in band t-shirts, who invite me to a show that night in some basement.

It's crowded, it's sweaty, and most of all it's LOUD. No one smokes, everyone is sober, and I'm pretty much the only girl there. I leave exhilarated.

I spent the majority of the next five years in Midatlantic basements and spaces, thrashing around, killing my eardrums and shooting – for album art, flyers, press, zines, and fun.

The straightedge hardcore scene originated in DC and its suburbs, where I grew up. By the time I discovered it, 20 years after Minor Threat released the song "Straight Edge" and unwittingly started a movement, the local hardcore scene had a reputation for its judgmental, macho, and sometimes violent crowd. It was also getting played out. So bands went in different directions musically, but often retained the particular spirit of the movement's roots.

In new songs you could still hear the raw energy and noise of frustrated youth. And despite the increasing accessibility of more sophisticated recording methods, many releases on local labels remained proudly unpolished.

Shows were held in any place someone decided to call a "space" – food co-ops; windowless basements and garages; churches and schools; radio stations and galleries; a converted laundromat; and of course bars and clubs. Minivans were tour buses and instead of a toilet in the back, the boys pissed in empty water bottles. Bands often played on the floor and vocalists were sucked into the crowd. Any object higher than your knees could possibly become a diving board. Injuries were half-assedly avoided and scars were borne with pride.

One night at a show, someone forgot the PA. So the vocalist grabbed a tennis racket out of his trunk and used its handle as a prop microphone, and he screamed louder than ever the lyrics to his songs – all of which were just over one minute long, although no one in the band ever seemed to mind traveling for ten hours to play for ten minutes.

קארה גולדברג היא צלמת מאוד מוכשרת, ניתן לראות תמונות נוספות באתר הבית שלה