Everyone loves the ladies

Distortion, rage and droning vocals like haunting caves and brooding waves. It’s primitive like the earth’s bowels and feminine like her coasts and clouds, her intrinsic patterns.

Distortion, rage and droning vocals like haunting caves and brooding waves. It’s primitive like the earth’s bowels and feminine like her coasts and clouds, her intrinsic patterns. Two pairs of brown feet stomping like the illusive Apache warrior they name themselves after, Justine Vandez and Hozi Matheson of Lozen create no passive presence. If the world could use any more of any one thing, it would definitely be more female punk rockers.

The two women met during their freshman year in high school in Tacoma, Wash.—Vandez hailing from Las Vegas and Matheson raised in Tacoma, born a Puyallup Indian. Matheson has been playing music for most of her life, performing live for the past 10 years and playing drums for the past 14. She drummed for another female duo called TNA for a few years, playing more experimental rock, though not really taking part in the harmonic songwriting aspect.

When Lozen began, Matheson found herself picking up the guitar seriously for the first time to create songs from a melodic point of view. Though her style is still very rhythmic, its simplicity is refreshing, honest and to the point—similar to Tom Morello’s style in Rage Against the Machine.

Vandez started playing drums seriously in college after borrowing her uncle’s kit. Her style has a particularly brutal punch-to-the-face sound that is so beloved to the world of punk drummers—tight, powerful and driven.

Though it may be misleading to describe the vocals as “singing,” both members partake in vocal expression, notable for their appealingly grimy and confrontational execution. They yell like Poly Styrene of X-Ray Spex, with no less of a delivery. The two found the initial playing and creating together a feat of smooth ease as if they were supposed to be doing it all along. After being friends for so many years, non-verbal communication had come naturally.

“Three or four months after we started jamming together,” Vandez said, “We had our first show…It was horrible, but I’m glad I did it.”

They chose the name Lozen because of the cultural component behind it, as well as the similarities it draws to their own story. Lozen was the sister of Victorio, the great Apache warrior who fought against the forces of American colonization. Lozen was considered “strong as a man, braver than most and cunning in strategy.” A legendary hero among many native peoples who were forced off their homelands, little is known of her and no photographs exist. Vandez and Matheson particularly like that aspect of her history—that despite her heroic nature, very little is known about her.

Similarly, the duo’s most recent release is a 2009 10″ vinyl (with digital download) called Oona. Oona was another folk legend—an Ojibway baby born with big owl eyes who had the power to silence babies in escape.

“We’ve talked about releasing a vinyl since the beginning,” Vandez said. “So it’s like our own little owl-eyed baby.”

When asked about whether or not they are trying to communicate a feminist or native message, they said that, although both these aspects of their lives influence them, they are not specifically trying to persuade anyone of anything. Over time, however, they have become a bit more direct in lyrical undertones. One’s life experiences are indefinitely translated through creative expression, and Lozen is no exception.