Editor’s Note: I wrote this blog post nearly a year ago and never published it. I’m really bad at this.
First let’s set the scene:
There was snow pack on the ground in a late afternoon twilight when we pulled to the end of a gravelly road east of Homer, Alaska. It was still early — the bands hadn’t started yet — but already a few dozen dusty locals mingled outside the barn in small groups as temperatures dropped with the daylight.
I was early April, and spring still hadn’t quite sprung in Southcentral Alaska. But inside the barn it was warm with community and potluck. A small merch table was set up in the corner. A basketball goal hing behind the first band’s set up.
Most of these bands I never saw live before, but there are plenty of familiar faces in the crowd and on stage. That’s life in small-town Alaska. They hosted a few shows at “The Barn” before, but this is my first, and honestly all I could do is smile. That’s what the spirit of punk rock is about. No egos, no drama, just a bunch of friends getting together for a good time and some good music.
It’s hard to put a finger on how big Homer is nowadays. Located on the shores of Kachemak Bay about 220 miles south of Anchorage, Homer’s population fluctuates wildly with the seasons. DataCommons.org puts the 2023 population at just over 6,000 people, a number the City of Homer cities on it’s website as well. But really there’s no telling how many of those “permanent” residents stick around year-round, or spend a month or two (or three or four) in warmer climates down south then show back up as the ice begins to thaw. It the summer, counting the tourists filling the hotels and campgrounds, it’s likely there’s more than 10,000 people in town at any given time.
I say this only to really point out that, given it’s size, Homer continually punches above it’s weight class on the cultural front. Art galleries and collectives line the main drag of Pioneer Avenue and elsewhere in the city. Good food prepared by great chefs can be had year-round, but especially in the summer when the Spit comes alive. Pottery studios dot the hillside. And there is a cyclical and thriving music scene, including punk rock, blue grass, and several other genres, including a Shamwari Marimba Ensemble and a rising hop-hop producer.
More about the music:
First up, I have to offer sincere apologies to one of my favorite Homer bands the Pudgies. I may have had a couple of seltzers during the show and managed to run out of film before their set. Oops! But if you get a chance, but sure to check them out June 20 at the Porcupine Theater in Homer, along with D.S.B. and the Discopians.
Back in the barn, SOOT opened the night with some in-your-face hardcore. This is a band I’m not familiar with, but I hope to see them on more bills in the future. They succeeded in drawing the crowd inside and amping up the heat — it helped to move around, otherwise it was kind of freezing out.
New kids on the block D.S.B. was up next. Fronted by two local high schoolers, the three-man-band churned through a couple of covers before debuting an original song. The set was short and loud and ended with calls for an encore. “But we don’t know any other songs!” They shouted back before diving into a repeat performance of their original tune. It’ll be fun to watch these young guys continue to grow and see what they deliver next.
The night was all about Beetle Kill’s self-titled tape release, and they played before the Pudgies. The music was fun and furious. My only gripe with these guys is they need to start some social media or something to keep me in the know of when they’ll be playing next. I coped a shirt and a tape for like $20 — pretty punk rock pricing guys — now all I need to do is buy a tape player to listen to it.
The Pudgies are always fun to watch. They rounded out the night with an energetic blend of rock-punk-psychedelic-keyboard-driven stuff — hell, I don’t really know how to describe it and honestly that’s definitely a good thing in this day and age. They’re first recorded EP called “Things” drops June 3, 2025. You can listen to the whole 6 minute 59 seconds recording on YouTube.
A little bit about the film process:
I never leave home without my trusty point and shoot film camera, which for me is a tried-and-true Olympus Stylus that has been put through the ringer. It has survived several summer at sea aboard my charter fishing boat, tumbled down the slopes of Alyeska, and even had its cover ripped off hiking in the bottom of my backpack. And it still works… mostly.
On my way to the barn I loaded it with one of my favorite concert film stocks — expired Fujichrome Velvia 50. According to the Fujichrome website, this film is technically still in production, but good luck finding a roll, and even if you do they sell for around $35 per roll. I was luckily gifted a batch of Velvia 50 from a retiring photographer in Anchorage a few years ago. The production date of the rolls I acquired was unknown, but it had and has been freezer stored and performs very well.
Velvia 50 is a slide film that requires E6 processing for proper results, but can be cross-processed using C41 chemicals for color negative film to give unpredictable results. And for concert photos and other weird daily happenings, that’s always been the route I’ve taken.
These photos were processed at home using the Cinestill C41 kit and scanned on an Epson V600 flatbed scanner using Silverfast and touched up in Lightroom.
