Bethel University student Molly Kraakevik’s feet ached from dancing. Punk music pounded in her ears. The basement venue felt at least 110 degrees. She had been at the Twin Cities Hardcore Toy Drive for seven hours now.
Toward the front of the stage, teen-age and 20-something punk fans thrashed to music from local bands, such as Fleshless Body and Chain of Hatred. Each fan brought a new children’s toy donation for Merrick Community Services in St. Paul to get into the event.
Some people might consider a hardcore punk toy drive an oxymoron. But as Kraakevik listened to a singer dedicate the next song to his grandpa and watched teen boys laughing and hugging in the mosh pit, she could only describe the event as “nurturing.”
“Yes, they’re angry, but they’re also so happy to be there, and they’re all united by a cause,” Kraakevik said. “There’s not a lot of places left on this earth where you can just pull that.”
Organizations in the Twin Cities such as Caydence Records and Coffee provide space for niche events like these to thrive. And in the era of Instagram likes, online situationships and TikTok Shop, Gen-Z is starving for places with in-person community.
During the past year, social media has been flooded with conversations about the importance of “third spaces” – locations separate from home and work for conversation and community building. However, finding third spaces in your city isn’t as easy as it seems on Instagram Reels.
“I’m walking around the suburbs and there’s no ice cream shop or malt place for me to go,” Kraakevik said. “Or like, a cafe. What’s a girl gotta do to find a cafe around here?”
Caydence Records employee Jackie Rae Daniels, 39, has lived in St. Paul for 15 years. She hosts the monthly bluegrass jam at Caydence Records with her partner and works live music events like the hardcore toy drive.
Daniels said these shows attract a large Gen-Z audience, especially because the venue is all-ages and alcohol-free. She said more than 100 people attended the hardcore toy drive.
“The younger generation, and specifically the hardcore scene, those kids love to show up and support,” Daniels said. “They’re really there to be there for each other. It’s a really supportive community.”
Across the river in south Minneapolis, the record store Electric Fetus hosts free listening parties and concerts for fans of various artists.
Electric Fetus employee Elizabeth Petrowiak said Gen-Z music fans line up or camp out for hours before some concerts, including the store’s Gracie Abrams acoustic show in June 2023. She’s watched people connect over music while waiting in line, and she’s met most of her closest friends at local alternative shows.
“It’s really special to be like, ‘Oh, here’s a person in my city who also likes this artist or likes this kind of music,’” Petrowiak said. “If you go to shows a lot, sometimes you end up seeing similar faces and even just introducing yourself.”
These third spaces not only provide community but also keep alternative cultures alive. Kraakevik’s camera roll from the toy drive is filled with videos of teens hardcore dancing, two-stepping and spin kicking just like punk fans in the ‘80s.
“Subculture is so freaking important, you know,” Kraakevik said. “You can find some culture on the internet, but it’s so different to like, connect in the physical space and dance around and hit each other and then hug.”
And being surrounded by people in a warm, loud, mosh pit is the furthest you can get from scrolling through Spotify’s AI-generated “Hardcore Punk Mix” alone in your dorm.
“There’s so much love, like, aggressively so,” Daniels said. “I’ve never really seen anything like that.”
