Bleeding Knees Club write the simplest music, the same time signature, same chords, but have drawn this ridiculous array of fans that spew insanity at each show. I was standing near Jordan the whole time. I also blame GoodGod for having such ghastly lighting — yet, I find similarities between Jordan and, you know, that photo of Kurt Cobain, you know, that one, with his back to us, with his guitar. This first photograph I feel illustrates that moment so well.

I feel like my lack of good equipment is not to blame, and cannot be blamed; my photographs effectively communicate what the hell Bleeding Knees Club is. Who gives a shit about blur, about black and white, about dullness, graininess. This rough, edgy, kind-of-lacklustre texture is BKC in essence. It’s freaking beautiful.