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This article considers the role of space, place and identity in influencing gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender/transsexual, intersex and queer (GLBTIQ) young adults’ experiences of unwanted sexual attention in licensed venues. It is argued in this article that the roles of space, place and identity are largely absent from theoretical understandings of sexual violence. Gender-based accounts of sexual violence, while important, are unable to fully account for sexual violence that is perpetrated within and against GLBTIQ communities. Drawing on data obtained through a mixed-methods study, in the first half of the article I establish the manner in which GLBTIQ young adults’ unique relationship with licensed venues appears to mediate the ways in which unwanted sexual attention occurring in these spaces is experienced and understood. The second half of this article is concerned with exploring the intersections between unwanted sexual attention and heterosexist violence and abuse in clubs and pubs. I conclude by considering the implications of these findings for theoretical understandings of sexual violence and unwanted sexual attention.

The term “safe space” dates to the late twentieth century women's movement, but it has since been used in many different contexts. In this paper, we review and analyze historical and contemporary “safe spaces”. These include “separatist” safe spaces in women's, anti-racist, and feminist communities, “inclusive” safe space classrooms, and safe spaces in which (non-human) objects are central. We argue that safe spaces should be understood not through static and acontextual notions of “safe” or “unsafe”, but rather through the relational work of cultivating them. Such an understanding reveals several tendencies. Namely, safe spaces are inherently paradoxical. Cultivating them includes foregrounding social differences and binaries (safe–unsafe, inclusive–exclusive) as well as recognizing the porosity of such binaries. Renegotiating these binaries is necessarily incomplete; a safe space is never completely safe. Even so, we encourage the critical cultivation of safe space as a site for negotiating difference and challenging oppression.

In popular culture, management in the media industry is frequently understood as the work of network executives, studio developers, and market researchers-"the suits"-who oppose the more productive forces of creative talent and subject that labor to the inefficiencies and risk aversion of bureaucratic hierarchies. However, such portrayals belie the reality of how media management operates as a culture of shifting discourses, dispositions, and tactics that create meaning, generate value, and shape media work throughout each moment of production and consumption. <i>Making Media Work</i> aims to provide a deeper and more nuanced understanding of management within the entertainment industries. Drawing from work in critical sociology and cultural studies, the collection theorizes management as a pervasive, yet flexible set of principlesdrawn upon by a wide range of practitioners-artists, talent scouts, performers, directors, show runners, and more-in their ongoing efforts to articulate relationships and bridge potentially discordant forces within the media industries. The contributors interrogate managerial labor and identity, shine a light on how management understands its roles within cultural and creative contexts, and reconfigure the complex relationship between labor and managerial authority as productive rather than solely prohibitive. Engaging with primary evidence gathered through interviews, archives, and trade materials, the essays offer tremendous insight into how management is understood and performed within media industry contexts. The volume as a whole traces the changing roles of management both historically and in the contemporary moment within US and international contexts, and across a range of media forms, from film and television to video games and social media.

Efforts to map women’s participation in the music industries have been hampered by a lack of data. However, available statistics point to a continuing underrepresentation of women in the music industries; and the disparity is particularly acute within certain areas of practice. In 2010 the Performing Rights Society for Music (PRS), the UK’s leading collection society, revealed that women accounted for only 14 percent of their registered music creators and writers. This statistic prompted the PRS Foundation to fund the “Women Make Music” initiative as a way to raise awareness of the gender gap, correct stereotypes, encourage participation, and increase the profile of women creating new music. Research commissioned in 2008 by the Cultural Leadership Programme and publishedas a substantial report, found that in the UK music sector “only 20% of businesses have any form of female representation on the management team and only 10% have an all female team” (Cultural Leadership Programme 2008: 29). According to the report, women in the music sector were generally very underrepresented within positions of responsibility: the average number of female executives per firm was as low as 0.2. Such evidence of gender inequality in leadership positions within the music industries is by no means unique to the UK. In 2012 the editorial team of the Australasian Music Industry Directory (AMID), in consultation with other industry professionals, ranked for the first time the most powerful people in the Australian music industry. The criteria included who has the greatest “ability to ‘shape’ the scene,” along with “their involvement in industry initiatives, overall career accomplishment, economic impact and public profile” (Fitzsimons 2012). The “power list” included 50 places and 56 people (some business partners held joint positions). Only six women appeared on the list, two of whom shared their place with a male colleague; overall, then, women were just under 11 percent. While the list can be critiqued for its partiality, it indicates the music industries’ gender gap. Books on women working in the music industries usually focus on women musiciansand performers, often with the aim of celebrating women’s contribution to the history of popular music (see, for example, Dahl 1984; Gaar 1993; Hirshey 2001; Downes 2012). In documenting women’s experience, field research with musicians has shownhow women have established their music careers, from acquiring instruments and learning to play, to performing and navigating the music business (see, e.g., Bayton 1998; Tucker 2000; Reddington 2007; Leonard 2007). A few specifically highlight women involved in music production and sound engineering (Sandstrom 2000; Smith 2009). Some recent work on women’s changing relationship with music technologies examines how artist-producers (Wolfe 2012) and women involved in the electronic dance music scene (Farrugia 2012) have navigated a gendered sphere of practice which has historically and discursively been associated with masculinity. Music journalism has also been a focus, with critical accounts addressing the work of women music journalists and the gendered discourse of music journalism (McDonnell 1995; Davies 2001; McLeod 2001). While the literature on women musicians, journalists, DJs, and music engineers is growing, the experience of women working in other roles within the music sector is much less well documented. Indeed, Smith (2009: 308) remarks that, except for musicianship, “scholarship on gender segregation in other music industry roles has been meagre. Because of this, the gendered division of labour in the music industry is not yet adequately understood.” This chapter explores how gendered attitudes circulate within the workplace andin what ways they frame work in different sectors of the music industries. The plural term “music industries” suggests the chapter is not engaging with a unified field of practice, nor is it concerned only with the recording industry (Williamson and Cloonan 2007). I will draw on interviews with eight women who have worked in artist management, tour management, A&R (artist and repertoire), and concert promotion, although first I discuss the contexts in which these women work as a way to establish the extent to which their occupations can be broadly characterized as sex segregated. These women work in largely under-studied but particularly sex-segregated areasof music employment. All eight were based in London, England and ranged in levels of seniority from a booking agent’s assistant to a general manager of a record company. Many of the women had established portfolio careers, having worked in different roles, including radio promotion, international relations, music publishing, and marketing, so had different levels of experience in management, A&R, and concert promotion. For example, one participant worked for two years at a junior level in A&R before moving on to develop expertise in other areas, eventually becoming a general manager of a record company. Another participant began as a regional A&R scout and was promoted to A&R manager, where she stayed ten years. Therefore, they could offer a broad perspective: collectively they were engaged with international professional networks, international tour management, and the management and career development of artists building international profiles. The majority of them worked with rock bands and artists but some had worked with artists in other genres. The participants could also reflect on their experience of working with artists at different stages of career development, from new and developing bands through to major international recording stars. Seven of the approximately hour-long interviews were conducted by telephone; their responses to the open-ended questions were recorded and transcribed. One respondent offered a written response to the research questions via email. The women all seemed candid in their responses. Their comments have been anonymized; references to particular record labels, bands, or named individuals have been omitted.

<section class="abstract"><p>This article elaborates on discursive constructions of girls-only settings through the spatial metaphor of a room of one's own, as articulated in round-table discussions among staff and participants from girl-centered music programs in Sweden. The idea of a separate room refers to spaces for collective female empowerment as well as for individual knowledge acquisition and creativity. These spaces are constructed so as to provide the possibility for exploration, subjectivity, and focus, by offering (partial and temporary) escape from competition and control, from a gendered and gendering gaze, and from distraction. Girl-centered programs are also discussed as paradoxical because they function as gender-neutral when seen from the inside, but gender-specific when seen from the outside.</p></section>

Being recognized as a rape survivor has often been interpreted as implying a linear progression from the negative state of victimisation, experienced in the presence of the offender, to a stronger, more positive state, typically facilitated by external support mechanisms. Drawing primarily on interviews conducted with women victimised by New Zealand serial rapist, Malcolm Rewa, this article challenges the concept of a journey 'from victim to survivor' by considering the multiple ways in which these women sought to protect themselves and survive during the attack while also experiencing aspects of their postattack involvement with individuals and agencies as further victimisation. The article concludes by outlining some initial implications regarding what this may mean for professionals working with victim/survivors of sexual violence.

Riot Grrrl, an early-1990s teen feminist movement, adopted punk’s DIY modes of expression to encourage girls to address their shared oppression. The Riot Grrrl Collection, held at New York University’s Fales Library & Special Collections, documents the movement through the personal papers of those who were active in its formative years. This article uses the lens of feminist “safe space” to look at the collection from two perspectives: that of its founder, Lisa Darms, who is senior archivist at Fales, and that of ethnomusicologist Elizabeth Keenan, a scholar who has worked extensively with the collection. The concept of safe space was crucial to the all-girl meetings, dance parties, and bands that formed the foundation of Riot Grrrl. The authors argue that the safe space of Riot Grrrl created an intimate counter-public – that is, a space where girls established a feminist community through shared texts – but one that sometimes worked against its own intentions: boundaries erected for safety sometimes led to exclusion along lines of race, class, or gender identity. The authors extend the idea of safe space to issues of collection building from and within activist communities; to ideas of intimacy and privacy as they play out for donors, for researchers, and in the special collections reading room; and to the tension between the desire for access to activist history versus the requirements of archival preservation. The article examines how iterations of safe space are enacted across the personal papers in the Riot Grrrl archive, through both the materials themselves and their place in the archive.  RÉSUMÉ  Riot Grrrl, un mouvement du début des années 1990 pour adolescentes féministes, s’est inspiré du mouvement punk pour adopter les modes d’expression du « Do it yourself (DIY) », dans le but d’encourager les adolescentes à aborder leur oppression commune. La collection Riot Grrrl, détenue par la Fales Library & Special Collections de l’University New York, documente le mouvement grâce aux documents personnels de celles qui en étaient actives durant ses premières années. Cet article se sert du concept féministe du « lieu sûr » (« safe space ») afin d’examiner la collection à partir de deux perspectives : celle de sa fondatrice, Lisa Darms, qui est archiviste supérieure à Fales, et celle de l’ethnomusicologue Elizabeth Keenan, une spécialiste qui a travaillé en profondeur avec cette collection. Le concept du lieu sûr était crucial pour les adolescentes lors de leurs réunions et soirées dansantes et pour leurs groupes musicaux qui ensemble ont contribué à la fondation de Riot Grrrl. Les auteurs soutiennent que le lieu sûr de Riot Grrrl a créé un « contre-public intime » – c’est-à-dire un espace dans lequel les adolescentes ont pu établir une communauté féministe par l’entremise de textes partagés – mais un contre-public qui opérait parfois contre ses propres intentions : les limites imposées pour délimiter le lieu sûr ont parfois mené vers des exclusions basées sur la race, les classes sociales ou l’identité de genre. Les auteures élargissent le concept du lieu sûr aux questions liées à la création de collections par des communautés militantes et dans ces milieux; aux idées de l’intimité et de la vie privée auxquelles sont confrontés les donateurs et les chercheurs dans la salle de lecture des collections spéciales; et à la tension entre le désir d’avoir accès à l’histoire militante et les besoins liés à la conservation archivistique. Cet article examine comment l’itération du lieu sûr se fait par rapport aux documents personnels des archives Riot Grrrl, tant du côté des documents eux-mêmes que de leur place dans les archives.

This paper examines and reconceptualises transgression in the Leeds extreme metal music subculture through theories of performance, embodiment and spectacle. The spectacle, for Debord (1967), is a social relation that is alienating and mediated by images, visuals, and technology. At a live extreme metal concert fans subvert social norms, challenge gendered expectations, and disregard norms of etiquette and decency. Moshing is the most visible and sensuous example of transgression within the extreme metal scene. It is an aggressive, physically demanding performance which embodies resistance to the impersonal and disillusioning world of the spectacle (Halnon, 2004). The pit is a transgressive space that is itself transgressed by women who participate in this masculine, chaotic space, disrupting the homosocial bonds of male solidarity (Gruzelier, 2007). This paper offers an ethnographic account of a female metal fan participating in the transgressive practice of moshing within the Leeds metal music scene – a moshography.

Purpose ‐ The purpose of this paper is to demonstrate how people making music represent their production activities using images of consumption. Design/methodology/approach ‐ Supporting evidence is based on in-depth interviews with musicians and support personnel. The data are structured through a thematic analysis. Findings ‐ The paper argues that consumption serves as a discursive resource that allows cultural producers to make sense of production activities which do not conform to an image of production as an alienated form of labour. Originality/value ‐ Relating the analysis to the ongoing attempts to conceptualise cultural producers through the concept of prosumption, the paper concludes that there are limits to cultural producers' abilities to represent their production activities as production rather than a structural change in social or economic organisation, as suggested by some consumer researchers.

Helienne Lindvall: Big US record labels are being sued by former interns who worked for free – how do their UK counterparts measure up?

Chaz Bono’s appearance on Dancing with the Stars (DWTS) marks one of the first primetime, network appearances of a postoperative transgender person. This article deconstructs the mediated gender subjectivities of Bono as constructed by the show itself via prerecorded segments, costume and song choices, dance partner interaction, and judges’ commentaries as well as those projected by Bono during the live, unscripted portions of the show. Combining notions of the normalization of taboo sexual subjectivities through mediated contexts with lens of gender performativity, we demonstrate how transgender subjectivities are presented to a mainstream audience via such mediated choices, but also how Bono welds some agency to resist such normalization through his live performances. Bono’s appearance on DWTS stands as an important step toward acceptance of transgendered persons in mainstream society, however through a neutered, sex-free rhetoric as projected by the mediated portions of the show, his appearance is not without controversy. Additionally, we posit that Bono represents a transnormativity of a White, upper-class postoperative heterosexual male, which others all transgendered persons who fall outside of those hegemonic parallels of safe subjectivities.

Heads up: NSFW videos and websites are occasionally linked to throughout this post, so watch who’s watching your monitor. Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” and Miley Cyrus’s “We Can’t Stop…

Listen to David Hesmondhalgh discuss the arguments at the core of 'Why Music Matters' with Laurie Taylor on BBC Radio 4's Thinking Allowed here. In what ways might music enrich the lives of people and of societies? What prevents it from doing so? Why Music Matters explores the role of music in our lives, and investigates the social and political significance of music in modern societies. First book of its kind to explore music through a variety of theories and approaches and unite these theories using one authoritative voice Combines a broad yet theoretically sophisticated approach to music and society with real clarity and accessibility A historically and sociologically informed understanding of music in relation to questions of social power and inequality By drawing on both popular and academic talk about a range of musical forms and practices, readers will engage with a wide musical terrain and a wealth of case studies

This article reports the findings of some commissioned research, which was conducted by the authors in 2012. The research sought to examine the extent of Popular Music Studies (PMS) undergraduate programmes in the United Kingdom, determine their key differences, report the findings and make recommendations to the funders about its future policies for PMS practitioners. We report our findings and the implications for PMS practitioners.

Written against the academically dominant but simplistic romanticization of popular music as a positive force, this book focuses on the 'dark side' of the subject. It is a pioneering examination of the ways in which popular music has been deployed in association with violence, ranging from what appears to be an incidental relationship, to one in which music is explicitly applied as an instrument of violence. A preliminary overview of the physiological and cognitive foundations of sounding/hearing which are distinctive within the sensorium, discloses in particular their potential for organic and psychic violence. The study then elaborates working definitions of key terms (including the vexed idea of the 'popular') for the purposes of this investigation, and provides a historical survey of examples of the nexus between music and violence, from (pre)Biblical times to the late nineteenth century.The second half of the book concentrates on the modern era, marked in this case by the emergence of technologies by which music can be electronically augmented, generated, and disseminated, beginning with the advent of sound recording from the 1870s, and proceeding to audio-internet and other contemporary audio-technologies. Johnson and Cloonan argue that these technologies have transformed the potential of music to mediate cultural confrontations from the local to the global, particularly through violence. The authors present a taxonomy of case histories in the connection between popular music and violence, through increasingly intense forms of that relationship, culminating in the topical examples of music and torture, including those in Bosnia, Darfur, and by US forces in Iraq and Guantánamo Bay. This, however, is not simply a succession of data, but an argumentative synthesis. Thus, the final section debates the implications of this nexus both for popular music studies itself, and also in cultural policy and regulation, the ethics of citizenship, and arguments about human rights.

Despite the fact that a substantial amount of research has been conducted on sexual victimization among youth and young adults with active night lives, few of these studies have provided an analysis of the varied types of victimization that have occurred. I attempt to fill this gap with a qualitative analysis of women’s accounts of sexual victimization. Based on the substantive content of these women’s accounts, a three-part typology was generated, comprised of: (a) competing definitions of the situation, (b) opportunistic predation, and (c) involuntary incapacitation. Implications of the findings are discussed.

The image of the aging rock-and-roller is not just Paul McCartney and Mick Jagger on stage in their sixties. In his timely book <i>Music, Style, and Aging</i> , cultural sociologist Andy Bennett explains how people move on from youth and effectively grow older with popular music.For many aging followers of rock, punk, and other contemporary popular genres, music is ingrained in their identities. Its meaning is highly personal and intertwined with the individual's biographical development. Bennett studies these fans and how they have changed over time--through fashions, hairstyles, body modification, career paths, political orientations, and perceptions of and by the next generation.The significance of popular music for these fans is no longer tied exclusively to their youth. Bennett illustrates how the music? that "mattered" to most people in their youth continues to play an important role in their adult lives--a role that goes well beyond nostalgia.

One arena where images of sexually objectified women are especially prevalent is the world of music videos. Music videos represent an important area of study, both because of their popularity with younger viewers (Ashby & Rich, 2005) and because love and sex predominate as themes (Andsager & Roe, 1999; Arnett, 2002). What we seek to do here is to take a closer look at the nature and impact of the portrayal of women in music videos, focusing, in particular, on sexually objectifying images. How frequently do objectifying images occur? What messages about femininity do these images convey to girls? What is their demonstrated impact on girls and young women? Given the current popularity of rap and hip-hop music, we focus our attention on their portrayals of African American women. We address these issues via four pathways. First, we summarize findings from existing research concerning the nature of gender portrayals in music videos. Second, we turn our attention to African American artists and summarize findings about the images of black women in music videos. Third, we present new data from an analysis we conducted of the sexual content in black music videos, providing both quantitative and thematic analyses. Finally, we summarize findings about the demonstrated impact of music video exposure on young viewers' gender beliefs and body image concerns. (PsycInfo Database Record (c) 2022 APA, all rights reserved)