All photos by Krystina Brown, words by DCist Contributor Ron Knox

When a four-piece feminist punk band called Hemlines released a sparkling four-song demo last July, the band appeared to have teleported into D.C.’s punk scene from another galaxy. In a city where the provenance of most punk bands is quickly understood and ballyhooed (“That’s Todd from Decapitated Wolf’s new project!”), the Hemlines demo was something of a remarkable mystery.

From an outsider’s perspective, the band strolled into the world of punk rock with notable ease. On the demo, Hemlines flaunted its rough edges. The four songs bristle with rawness, the sum of sparse recording, static-y distortion and occasional throat-shredding screams. The songs ooze punk chops. They are the genuine article in a genre of music enthralled with the idea of authenticity.

Katie Park, Hemline’s singer and one of its guitar players, and Dana Liebelson, the band’s bassist, had come from varied musical backgrounds and had only begun to transverse the D.C. punk scene. The songs that became the Hemlines demo marked the first time either had written that exact kind of straight-ahead punk rock—although Park’s prior band, Jet Jaguar, certainly had its punk leanings. It was also the first time Liebelson had played a bass guitar.

While that lack of experience dovetails with the prevailing origin story of punk—grab an instrument, who cares if you can play it, let’s start a band—it’s at times antithetical to the city’s punk scene, where the DNA of most bands is interwoven into a seemingly endless list of other bands and side projects. In that sense, Park and Liebelson came from a far different place.

But there is another, perhaps more important origin story of most punk bands, and Hemlines is no exception. Both Park and Liebelson had suffered through a series of dumb, borderline-chauvinistic moments in the music world before deciding to seek out other women to start a punk band with. Liebelson played violin in a indie band where, as the only female member, bouncers at clubs mistook her for someone’s girlfriend. She grew exhausted with very often being the only woman musician at shows with multiple bands on the bill.

In her daily life as a political reporter, Liebelson tends to avoid pointing out that she’s a woman working in a job dominated by men. After years in the indie scene, she wants to be part of a band “where it’s obvious that I am in this space and it’s considered a male space, but I want to call it out.

“I don’t want to ignore it,” she tells DCist. “People are always going to point it out, and I want to take that back, and make it an empowering thing.”

Park shares similar stories. At a show last December, a guy in another band asked her what it was like being in a band with women (Jet Jaguar includes another female members). “Man, how can you stand being in a band with two chicks? Isn’t it dramatic? Aren’t you fighting all the time?” Park recalls him saying.

“I was like: I need to make music that beats down these guys,” Park says.

Being angry and in search of community have always been crucial, and perhaps the only, prerequisites for starting a punk band. “I wanted to play in a punk band that was feminist-aware and socially aware and it feels like the best and easiest way to be more aware of feminism in the music you create is to have more women in your band,” Park said.

Liebelson and Park found one another through a former co-worker of Liebelson’s, agreed on a set of musical influences, and began to write.

Through Julie Yoder, the band’s drummer and a pillar of the city’s rich punk scene, Hemlines quickly found its place in the community. Yoder is a core organizer for Girls Rock! DC, which has been hosting week-long rock and roll camps for girls (and ladies) since 2007, and a veteran of a number of D.C. punk bands through the years. Yoder joined the band through a Craigslist ad, of all things, and Park and Liebelson say she’s helped them navigate a world they knew little about.

“Julie was the best thing to ever happen to our band,” Park says. And although they originally wanted Hemlines to be women-only, guitarist Ian Villeda has been integral to the band and, Park and Liebelson say, perhaps the most ardent feminist in the group.

The D.C. punk community has been more than welcoming, they say. Through their connections to Yoder and Girls Rock!, they found a practice space—a precious commodity in D.C.—and support at every turn. It’s a far cry from the indie scene she came from, Liebelson says. “Literally if we just showed up and called ourselves a punk band and said we want to be part of this, people were like: Yeah, come be part of us.”

DCist photographer Krystina Brown was at Rock and Roll Hotel this Saturday night to catch Hemlines perform, along with locals Company Calls and Flamers.

Catch Hemlines on February 13th with Jack on Fire, Jail Solidarity, Tereu Tereu and Crimson Wave at St. Stephen & The Incarnation Episcopal Church. The show is a benefit for the Casa Ruby LGBT Community Center. More info here.