L7's biggest hit still sounds as fierce today as it did in 1992. "Pretend We're Dead" wasn't about giving up—it was about refusing to stay silent. One of the defining songs of '90s alternative rock.
Writing these words is incredibly difficult for me right now, but I'm afraid that if I don't write them now, I never will.
I was only ten years old when I first saw the photo of Jennifer 'Precious' Finch below. I had just lost my mother after her long battle with cancer. Around that time, I was reading a book about Kurt Cobain and the author mentioned a bass player named Jennifer Finch.
Nirvana's drummer Dave Grohl was her boyfriend and she was the one who introduced Courtney Love to Kurt, and she was an incredible bassist, artist, photographer and activist, and played in an all female band called L7. She seemed to have left her fingerprints all over the American punk scene.
After reading everything written about Jennifer over and over again, I remember my childself self thinking: 'An all-female punk band?'
I couldn't stop staring at her photos in amazement... The fire-red hair, the unbelievable energy bursting out of every image, the confidence, the attitude, the style...
I threw the book into my bag, rushed to the nearest record store, showed it to the owner, and asked, "Do you have LPs of any of these bands? Hole? Babes in Toyland? Sugar Babydoll? L7? The Gits?"
They had L7.
I bought the record and ran straight back home.
The years that followed were spent following these women... Their stage presence, their courage, their music, their politics. Even if Oliver Stone had opened Natural Born Killers with an explosion, it couldn't have made a bigger impact on me than hearing "Shitlist." I can't remember how many times that my childhood version watched the film just to hear L7. Or how many times I jumped off the couch when Jennifer appeared in a John Waters film. Or how many nights I stayed up in front of MTV, hoping they'd play another one of their videos.
My childhood, my teenage years were shaped by that world. My worldview. My confidence. My taste in music. My politics. Even my closest circle of friends.
Then life performed one of its impossible miracles.
Jennifer Finch transformed from one of my childhood heroes into a musician I eventually had the privilege of working with, then into a close friend, then an older sister and ultimately someone I call family.
The first real tour I ever organized with my friends as a teenager was for Jennifer's new band, The Shocker. Years later, in my twenties, we were sitting together in a kebab shop in Denmark talking about our shared love for Kanye and the Yeezy pop-up store in Los Angeles that had just opened.
As I approached my thirties, we wandered through museums together in Nuremberg before going to watch British bands play.
Another time, while I was visiting the incredible Raymond Pettibon retrospective in Moscow, I called her to show her the original SST fanzines. "Cali mention, Precious!!'
From the day I discovered her as a child until today, Jennifer's influence never left my life. I admired her, learned from her, and never stopped learning from her. I honestly don't think anyone else has shaped my life so profoundly or in so many different ways.
Jennifer was so down to earth that you could almost forget, for a moment, just how much she had lived through and how a legendary rockstar she really was.
But then she'd start talking about music, art, photography, or politics, and you'd immediately realize the depth of her knowledge. I have met very few people in my life whose understanding of music stretched so effortlessly from hip-hop to metal, from punk to jazz.
Jennifer wasn't just an icon of the Los Angeles punk scene. She reached people in the smallest underground communities all over the world and left a lasting mark on countless lives. You could write an entire book about the life she lived. Within seconds she could take you from a jaw dropping story to one that left you crying with laughter.
One day she told me she was proud of me. I still remember thinking "Life has been incredibly hard but hey, if I can make my childhood hero proud then it's ok, I made it."
I'm writing these words with incredible sadness, grief mixed with anger, because I truly believe that if the United States treated healthcare as a universal human right, Jennifer Finch would still be with us today. Instead, her treatment turned into a battle against private insurance companies that made everything harder, longer and more exhausting.
So yes, my heart is broken. And yes, forever, Free Luigi.
My deepest condolences to her life partner, Jack, and to everyone who loved her and everyone who was loved by her.
Until we meet again, may the stars guide you home. Precious. I'll miss you forever.
— Erin
RIP Jennifer Precious Finch (1966-2026)
“Dear migrants, before I say any other word to you, I want to bow before your dignity.
“You are not numbers or case files.
“You are people — with a family and a home left behind, with dreams that no one has the right to scorn.” — Pope Leo XIV
I invite you to be new threads to weave new networks that harmonize every aspect of life for a renewed society in which time is imbued with eternity, culture preserves memory and fosters dialogue, education promotes the search for truth with a critical spirit, art awakens wonder and gives rise to noble emotions, business recognizes the dignity of each person, and work continues to be a driving force for hope. #ApostolicJourney https://t.co/2IeHrzWmSb
Shocking. Pope Leo XIV just personally dragged the Cross for ALL 14 Stations at the Colosseum himself.
This is the first time since 1994.
The Church might actually be waking up.
Catholic priest Fr. Pierre Al Ravi has been killed in an Israeli airstrike on Qlaya’a, Lebanon.
Lebanon’s large Christian population was also targeted by Israeli strikes during the Gaza war.
Follow: @AFpost
“The Catholic Church isn’t a country club. A club exists to serve its member. The Church exists to go out and serve all people. We exist to follow Jesus who fed the hungry, healed the sick, rejected hatred, and proclaimed love.” — Archbishop Hicks
Prison photo from the early 90’s featuring several mobsters enjoying lunch at FCI Lompoc, California.
L-R
Westies Irish gang member Kevin Kelly
Gambino mobster Michael "Mickey Boy" Paradiso (glasses)
Colombo boss Carmine "Junior" Perisco
Lucchese mobster Anthony Senter
🧵 Meet Running Bear (and his turkey friends!): This striking grulla dun stallion from our Sulphur Springs herd arrived at our Lompoc, Calif., headquarters sanctuary with several of his mares in 2003. #horses
They’re now kicking over the candles lit for Renee Good.
“You know what that’s for?”
“I don’t give a f*ck.”
This is contempt, for a dead American, her family, and the public watching.