Pictured: Demi
Photo by Kristen Chesek

Representation in music goes far beyond diversity metrics and corporate DEI initiatives—it carries an undeniable potential for healing. Music activates deep-seated parts of the brain that allow us to form positive memories, reduce pain perception, and even treat cardiovascular disease. With each show performed and song written, Pucker Up! is tending to the physical and mental health of their fanbase, many of whom are people of color, queer, or live outside of urban centers. 

While Shug isn’t always conscious of how her race plays into her songwriting, she acknowledges that moving through the world as a Black woman “seeps into everything that we do. The way that I experience love is as a Black woman. The way that I experience heartbreak is as a Black woman,” she says. “The way that I express my pain is sometimes through the lens of, ‘How can I say this without being perceived as more aggressive or angry than I feel that I am allowed to be?’ Because I am a Black woman and there is that preconceived notion.” 

Pucker Up! offers no apologies for expressing Black feeling in all of its bass and drum-driven glory. “HUMILIATION,” where Shug unpacks an avoidant, toxic situationship through kink metaphors (You’re holding me like CBT, and I don’t mean psychology/You’ve got me by the balls honey, I don’t know if you’ll let go of me), is one of my favorite Pucker Up! songs and a much-needed catharsis in the humiliating age of online dating. “CRY BABY,” which expresses the hypocrisy of a partner who puts you through hell only to cry about the pain of hurting you, is another must-listen. Pucker Up!’s expansive discography simultaneously reveals the uniqueness of a Black woman’s experiences and the universality of human heartbreak and rage. 

Western culture, even alternative culture, has always feared Black pain. Listening to a Black woman say that she is sad, pissed off, or heartbroken requires us to acknowledge our role in upholding a culture that excludes and questions Black women without mercy. Pucker Up! has experienced this exclusion and harassment firsthand. During our conversation, I watched the band’s typically cheery faces fall as they told me about a grueling Halloween set, where they were heckled by literal skinheads at a house show. After their performance, the hecklers, who were also in a band set to perform that night, got on stage and began chanting that horrible, bone-chilling slur Black people know and despise: N*gger. Partygoers who were seeking an inclusive, spooky night quickly evacuated the house. Shortly after the show, the concert organizers removed the band from all their bills.

“That was the first we’d ever heard of them, and the last we’ve ever heard of them,” Shug said. “Even though [Scranton] is a predominantly white community, the folks in it are good people…they don’t tolerate bullshit.”

Shug, Demi, and Tanner are well-known and widely loved in their native city. On local Reddit forms, Pucker Up! is repeatedly cited as one of the best bands in the area, and their Instagram comments are packed with praise from dedicated fans. The trio, committed to building meaningful relationships in their neighborhood, return the love tenfold. 

“We’re not gonna pull up to a show and act like fucking cool guys,” Demi says. “We have a really important message…but our shows are an experience just for everyone to gather and have fun.”

Their Booked by Bratz shows in particular create opportunities for lesser-known local artists while resisting homogeneity in creative spaces. 

“We’re very hyper aware of when shows kind of look all the same and the people kind of look all the same, [and] they all sound the same,” Shug says. “We want the shows to be different and look different and still be a really good time. I think that Booked by Bratz is what a safe space looks like.”

I attended a Booked by Bratz show that was open to all ages and included a wide range of musical talent. Ivy, an indie singer-songwriter and poet, performed cathartic tunes that brought to mind some of my past heartbreaks and tragic situationships. Tumbleweed built a dynamic soundscape with impressive guitar riffs and drum parts. Somehow Else, my personal favorite from the night, was one of the youngest bands I had ever seen perform, shredding onstage like lifelong performers despite being under eighteen. The best part of it all: No audience member was turned away from the show for lack of funds.

Left to Right: Tanner, Shug, and Demi
Photo by Bedford Towers

“One of my most favorite parts about music is that it includes everybody, no matter what, and it gives everybody a safe space and a home,” Tanner says. 

Booked by Bratz is a direct manifestation of Pucker Up!’s ethos that inclusivity doesn’t end at calling for broader representation of race and gender identities in music—it means booking out physical spaces and inviting musicians of all genres, sounds, and ages to play on their own terms. 

“We want everyone to have a stage to perform on,” Demi says. 

Pucker Up!, like their punk ancestors, resists a culture that prevents creators from making noise or raging against the system. In a world where media outlets and corporations only promote diversity to avoid being cancelled, the band is resisting the notion that bands have to look or sound a certain way to be heard. Demi jokingly refers to the trio as “father figures,” but the metaphor isn’t too far off. This band is giving birth to some gorgeous and necessary creations.

“[Pucker Up!] really is our diary…it’s our outlet and it’s our way that we comfort each other and ourselves and our way that we have fun and we see new places,” Shug says. 

In the coal-rich mountains of northeast Pennsylvania, Pucker Up! is shoving their mic into a new alternative culture: one that is multiracial and queer. One that doesn’t take shit from anyone. One that doesn’t only focus on creators in New York, Atlanta, and Los Angeles, but honors talent in smaller towns and cities. One that creates a space for everyone to come together, mosh, and sing at the top of their lungs in vital catharsis. One that, in the words of Pucker Up!, is about being a bad bitch and having fun.

“We really just do this shit because it’s who we want to be and what we are. It’s never going to be a corporate commercialized thing,” Shug says. “This is our hearts.”