In band life, there are infinite ways to piss people off with the spotlight you’re given. You can play too loud, dress too weird, or write songs that make people uncomfortable. Period Bomb, however, has turned all three into divine art.
Founded by Cuban-born Camila Alvarez in Los Angeles in 2014, Period Bomb has spent the better part of a decade refusing to fit neatly into any given genre. For PeBo, hardcore, punk, noise, post-punk, and performance art might all be considered descriptors. Alvarez even coined a couple of labels of her own, including “menstrual misogycide” and “perimenopausal punk.”
“I definitely don’t like to stick with any one style for too long,” she explains. “But I do like to stick with the female anatomical themes because I don’t know any other bands doing that right now.”
It’s a quote that reminds me of the feminine vehemence of Boston’s Cerce, a rare other place to feel the full force of womanhood’s particular brand of rage.
Thankfully, Alvarez isn’t particularly interested in making herself palatable to people uncomfortable with those themes. She sees a reluctance among women in music to engage openly with feminist politics, partly out of fear of being lumped in with Riot Grrrl or labeled a TERF. For her, avoiding those conversations doesn’t look much like progress.
The band’s name came about during a brainstorming session involving women, smoking out of a bong, and menstruation. At the time, Alvarez was a Cuban girl navigating what she describes as a “very fake-nice white town” in Los Angeles, finding herself enraged by the men she encountered. The name stuck.
Miami remains home for both Alvarez and Period Bomb, although the band originally formed in LA. The project has since evolved through multiple lineups, years of DIY touring, and a steady stream of demo tapes.
After roughly a decade of self-released recordings, the band headed to Baltimore to work with Jason Willett of Half Japanese and Megaphone Limited, eventually releasing Threat, their only vinyl full-length to date.
There’s more vinyl on the way: a split 7-inch with Miami underground legend Otto Von Schirach, courtesy of Slouch Records, is expected in November. Alvarez is also working on a music video for a Birth of Labubu remix.
When it comes to influences, The Residents and Ralph Records are longtime favorites, alongside more uncomfortable sounds from God Is My Co-Pilot, Harry Pussy, and Y-Pants. Her songwriting process is considerably less structured than one might expect.
“I’m usually complaining to a friend or partner about something that really pissed me off recently and then make jokes about it,” she says. “Usually a good song title or hook comes from that, and then I go and write the rest of the song. Writing a song on purpose feels really wrong to me.”
That’s something to which I relate entirely.
Performance art has also been part of Alvarez’s creative identity since high school, and those interests continue to surface in Period BOMB’s deliciously unpredictable live shows.
“You can’t really expect anything specific performance-wise from Period Bomb other than a crazy time,” she explains. “We are always shape-shifting and doing whatever we feel like we need to do for our own sanity. Being ready to thrash, though, is recommended.”
But beneath the humor, noise, and deliberately provocative presentation, there’s a much more serious conversation Alvarez wants people to have.
In her response to what she wishes people would ask about Period Bomb, she brings up Tales from the Cunt, a book she’s written documenting the deeply troubling experiences she’s had with men. She wants incels who resent the attention the band receives to understand that women face obstacles in music that go far beyond equipment, practice time, and booking connections.
Alvarez points to the prevalence of sexual violence and the lifelong trauma it leaves behind, arguing that women are forced to navigate those realities in virtually every aspect of their lives. The punk scene is no exception. It’s not simply about whether women get to start bands or play shows; it’s whether they can participate without constantly encountering men who make those spaces unsafe.
She’s particularly frustrated by the lack of explicitly feminist representation on punk bills and at festivals. While Period Bomb has male members, she makes a distinction between men who use music to advance their own interests and those who recognize that their talents can be put to better use supporting a feminist project.
“We are still lucky, though, if we even have one feminist band on a typical bill, or even fest for that matter! This is not acceptable. Do better.”
It’s a direct statement worth taking seriously. Punk has historically positioned itself as a home for outsiders and misfits, but that identity means very little if the same old misogyny is allowed to flourish inside the scene.
Boston gets its opportunity to experience the chaos on Saturday, November 14, when Period Bomb joins Pissed Jeans, Baylies Band, The Hammer Party, Phantasmagorical Cannibal Animal, Midnight Creeps, Miracle Blood, BEDTIMEMAGIC, and The Blues Dream Box for Kafkaesque Boston at The Middle East Downstairs. Doors are at 3 PM, and the show is all ages.
The band is hoping to have its new Otto Von Schirach split 7-inch available, along with shirts featuring the release’s Anal Cunt-inspired artwork.
Expect noise, unpredictability, and a healthy dose of menstrual misogycide.
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Hit the Period Bomb Linktree to find all of the magic.
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