Let Me Get Carefree Unless It Means I Live In This Political Body And Everything Is Always On Fire Or How I Went To A Santigold Concert To Get Carefree Anyway

August 17, 2016

It’s a Sunday evening, unseasonably warm for April in Chicago, and I’m standing in line with my partner to see Santigold (read: to get my life). The tickets were $30, and before my edges were snatched by Beyonce and Rihanna, Santigold’s clap back and riot-like anthems amplified the kind of woman and artist I wanted to be. I needed to get away. […]