Q&A: SHAGGO’s ‘Chores’ is a Love Letter to Femme Community, Chaos and Coming of Age
INTERVIEW
INTERVIEW
☆ BY KIMBERLY KAPELA ☆
Photography Credit: Evi Fokas
LOST SOCKS, LOUD GUITARS AND EMOTIONAL LAUNDRY—Brooklyn’s queer femme punk band SHAGGO doesn’t mind if things get a little messy—in fact, that’s kind of the point.
Their debut album, Chores, slated for release in June, is a beautifully imperfect mix of cathartic punk energy and shoegaze fuzz, a perfect blend for anyone who has ever wondered if the mundane tasks of life might hold a deeper meaning. But Chores is more than just a collection of songs about dirty laundry and forgotten socks—it's a sonic exploration of growing up, dealing with heartbreak, and finding beauty in the chaos of life.
SHAGGO’s newest single, “Lost A Sock,” feels disorienting, introspective, and a little bit silly. But like everything SHAGGO does, it’s rooted in something real.
“I don’t know where my feet should go,” sings Lucy Rinzler-Day in the track, encapsulating the sense of not knowing where you fit in the world. “Lost A Sock” is a reflection of that disorientation, that feeling of being stuck, of longing for someone to make the decisions for you.
But Chores is not just about personal struggles—it’s about the messy, imperfect reality of growing up. “It’s about coming into your own—not just as a person, but also as musicians and as a more established band,” Rinzler-Day says. For SHAGGO, this album represents their own coming-of-age moment, a reflection of their journey both as individuals and as a band. The collection of songs bring these themes into focus, tackling the question of what it really means to grow up. Is it about checking off boxes or finding purpose in the process of doing so? What is a chore, really? Is it something you dread, or is it something that helps you grow?
The album moves through these complex ideas with a fluidity that mirrors the band's own growth. There’s a sense of melancholy and introspection, but also a brash, bratty energy that feels unmistakably punk. The contrast between the two—vulnerability and defiance, introspection and noise—creates a sound that is both accessible and raw, a space where young people, especially women, can hear their own stories reflected back at them.
“We definitely want it to feel accessible and relevant—especially to young women, who are the heart of who we’re speaking to,” Rinzler-Day says.
At its core, Chores is about finding meaning in the mundane. From literal chores like doing laundry or taking out the trash to metaphorical ones like maintaining friendships or showing up for others emotionally, SHAGGO explores the everyday tasks that define our lives.
Luna Collective caught up with SHAGGO’s Carina Greenberg and Lucy Rinzler-Day to dive into their latest single “Lost A Sock,” the band’s deep-rooted DIY ethos, and the community-driven spirit behind their forthcoming debut album Chores.
Photography Credit: Evi Fokas
LUNA: Thank you for talking to Luna. Our readers would love to get to know you and your music more. For any readers who aren’t familiar with you yet, what inspires your artistic style and sound?
LUCY: I would say a lot of strong female singer-songwriters from the 2000s and 2010s. We really like early Angel Olsen, Mitski and Julia Jacklin. We also really love 90s riot grrrl artists like Bikini Kill and Le Tigre. Sometimes we use random pop melodies to inspire us, totally out of left field grunge and punk.
CARINA: Something I really loved working with Lucy early on in this project is taking inspiration from singer-songwriters like Angel Olsen, who are a little bit more indie folk, seemingly softer than the genre we're in, which is fun. We’re really drawn to the honesty of her early songwriting and we see a place for that punk music. We definitely have scattered influences, but it's been interesting to bond over these softer artists and softer work and find inspiration in that.
LUNA: What’s the best environment to listen to your music in?
LUCY: I've added “I Wanted Fun” to a few distinct playlists of mine, such as my running and motivational playlists. I've also added it to my cleaning my room playlist and I've added it to my I'll eat you alive playlist, which is my playlist for when I'm feeling super angry. Those are my three playlists. It's on my good morning playlist because it definitely wakes me up, but I don't know if it's necessarily a good morning. It's an antagonistic morning, so I often skip it.
CARINA: Our first two singles, “Minor League” and “I Wanted Fun,” have been angrier, a bit more in your face. Our next song, “Lost A Sock” is a bit softer in some ways, or sadder, so that'll be interesting having a different side to that. I think environment-wise, so far, we're more comfortable playing music at night, in a dark dive bar. I feel conducive listening to it in that environment too. We don't have cars here in New York, really, but when I was home in Austin, it was really fun to hear that blasted in a car. That's just not something we get to do much here, so if you have access to a car, blow out your speakers.
LUNA: You just released your newest single “Lost A Sock” and I love the more introspective energy from the track. What inspired the track and what themes or emotions do you explore?
LUCY: The song is about feeling lonely, disoriented, and directionless—like you wish someone else could just step in, make decisions for you, and tell you what to do. There are definitely some silly puns in there, like “I don’t know where my feet should go.” The idea for the song came about during a casual conversation—we randomly brought up “Apologize” by OneRepublic, and started riffing off of that. Once again, a random pop melody just came out of nowhere. From there, we decided to write something that reflected how we were both feeling: wanting to prioritize, to find direction in life. It’s kind of like doing the laundry—trying to sort things out, to pick out what really matters, whether you’re at a party or just in your head. So the song ended up being this weird balance of sincere and totally goofy. Honestly, it’s kind of stupid on purpose at moments—but that’s part of the charm.
CARINA: Yeah, that really captures a lot of our vibe—this blend of sincerity and humor. I’d say that feeling runs through our first two singles too, but this one definitely leans into it more. It’s funny because I often forget that the whole thing started by us riffing on OneRepublic—which, honestly, isn’t even a band any of us listen to that much. But somehow, it just clicked. I think you said it perfectly: it’s about wishing your life could go on autopilot, like someone else could make the hard decisions for you. In that way, it feels more like a friendship song than a romantic one. It’s about that person in your life who feels like a form of medicine—someone who could just take over the wheel for a bit. it’s definitely a little more on the introspective or even sadder side compared to the high-energy, more angsty stuff we’ve released so far. It'll be interesting to see how it lands following our first few singles.
Photography Credit: Evi Fokas
LUNA: “Lost A Sock” and “I Wanted Fun” are sneak peeks into your upcoming album Chores. I would love to hear anything you would like to share on the inspirations and themes and emotions you explore within the project.
LUCY: Like I said, it’s all about finding that balance between serious and silly—and Chores really speaks to that. It touches on what it means to grow up, in all the weird and funny and hard ways. It’s about coming into your own—not just as a person, but also as musicians and as a more established band. Kind of like a coming-of-age moment. What does it mean to grow up? What even is fun anymore? What’s a chore? We have literal chores—taking out the trash, doing the laundry—but also metaphorical ones, like maintaining a friendship or showing up for people emotionally.
There are even moments where we reference religion, and it gets weird in a good way. We bring in all these layers—like in “Minor League,” which is about sports but also folds into bigger ideas of fun, youth, and how girls are often expected to find entertainment in small, prescribed ways. I wrote that it's about what fun and home mean to a person—and those things can shift a lot.
The tone of Chores moves between melancholic, introspective, and sad, to being brash, bratty and loud. All of that lives inside this one song. we definitely want it to feel accessible and relevant—especially to young women, who are the heart of who we’re speaking to.
CARINA: Chores is really a collection of the first songs we wrote together as a band—it captures those early moments of figuring out who we are, both musically and personally. What’s funny is that we actually ended up drawing inspiration from Lucy’s parents—not once, but twice. One of the tracks, “Young Girls Need Entertainment,” is based on a riot grrrl poem Lucy’s mom wrote in the 90s called Call You Young. We took that text and reshaped it into a song, and it felt really powerful to breathe new life into it.
The opening track on the album, “Big Trash Night,” also comes from the past—it's a reimagining of a song written by Lucy’s dad’s experimental band back in the 90s. There’s this beautiful full-circle feeling: drawing from their creative work when they were in their early twenties, and now we’re doing the same, in our own way. I think that’s why those pieces resonated with us—it just felt natural to expand on them. Lucy’s parents have been so enthusiastic about it. My mom even joked, ‘When are you going to turn one of my things into a song?’
While that archival inspiration hasn’t necessarily shaped the rest of our writing going forward, it was really meaningful for this album. As we kept writing, we noticed this recurring theme: why are we so drawn to house-related, mundane tasks? Why do we keep writing about laundry or trash night? And it started to click—that it’s all tied to this broader coming-of-age feeling. Navigating adulthood, relationships, identity, responsibility... it's all wrapped up in these everyday metaphors. That’s how Chores started to take shape—it felt instinctive to call it that.
We just got the final album artwork back, and I’m completely in love with it. We worked with this incredible Canadian artist, and I think the visual side really ties everything together. That analog, handmade quality feels so aligned with the music and what the album means to us. I'm just really excited for people to experience it.
The cover art is this really beautiful drawing of women inside a house, which felt so fitting for the themes we explore on the album. There’s a song called “My House” that’s literally about chores, so it all ties together, and the inclusion of Lucy’s parents’ work adds another funny layer—especially when you think about how parents are usually the ones assigning you chores growing up. It brings this full-circle energy to the whole thing.
LUCY: Visually, the artwork is mostly pinks and reds, with fun cut-out shapes that give it this tactile, handmade feel. Carina also made this amazing single artwork for “I Wanted Fun” that includes stitching—which we love, because sewing counts as a chore too, or at least feels adjacent to that domestic vibe. Even with “Minor League,” there's this ongoing thread of balancing humor, nostalgia, and deeper reflections on growing up. It’s all layered, and we’ve leaned into that intentionally.
LUNA: I would love to touch more on the creative process for Chores. You self-produced and recorded the album. What was that process like, and how did the songs evolve from their initial idea to the final version?
CARINA: We’ve carved out a writing process for ourselves over time, especially since this album really captures the beginning stages of us working together as a band. For example, “My House” is a song Lucy originally wrote when she was 19, and a few tracks on the record come from that earlier period—songs that had been written years ago. “Big Trash,” which we reworked from something Lucy’s dad’s band made in the 90s. In the beginning, a lot of it was about taking existing material and seeing if we could make it feel like ours, giving it our sound. That was the starting point—me being newer to songwriting in a band context, and Lucy having more experience from previous projects.
Over time, our process became more collaborative and deliberate. Usually, it starts with Lucy—something that happened in her life or an idea she’s been sitting with—and then we’ll take that and work on it together. Often we’ll sit on my couch for four or five hours, just talking through lyrics, editing, or figuring out how to shape the song so we’re both fully on the same page. Once the skeleton of the song is there, we bring it to the rest of the band, who are both incredible. They always seem to know instinctively what the song needs, adding the perfect parts without needing much direction at all.
LUCY: We’re really grateful to have such intuitive bandmates—it makes the whole process feel really fluid and collaborative. That’s definitely what happened with “My House.” We sat down for six hours and completely reworked the version I had written years earlier. Carina helped transform it into something much more vivid and plot-driven—like the line “we pour gasoline on the front yard.” That whole moment came out of reimagining the song together.
Same with “I Wanted Fun,” which came from a string of pretty unfortunate dating experiences I had in 2024—just a run of walking red flags: the average Bushwick guy, love bombers, rinse and repeat. One of them ended especially badly, and we were like, “Okay, it’s over for them.” That song became a cathartic outlet, but we kept it fun and sharp.
In contrast, a few songs came from more improvisational, stream-of-consciousness writing. “Minor League,” “City MD,” and “Lost A Sock” all came from spontaneous storytelling. “Minor League” started with Carina telling us about this surreal experience she had at a minor league baseball game. We paired it with a riff inspired by Beck and Angel Olsen and just started crafting a narrative. “City MD” came from someone I knew getting dust in their eye, and Carina turned it into a breakup song. “Lost A Sock” was exactly what it sounds like—stream-of-consciousness absurdity that somehow became meaningful. Some of our favorite weirdest lines came out of that writing: “He’s going to be a CPA” in “Minor League,” or “I lost a sock. I need a friend,” or “Get me to a City MD.” We just let those lines stay, because they felt right in the moment.
CARINA: We started off writing a lot of these songs in a really instinctive, in-the-moment way—just workshopping ideas live and expanding on whatever story someone had that day. With “Minor League”—I had just come from a minor league baseball game, probably had heat stroke, and went straight to band practice. That chaotic energy became the foundation of the song. That spontaneous, collaborative process was how a lot of our early songs came to life.
Over time, our writing shifted to something more introspective and intentional. Now it’s often Lucy bringing an idea or a rough demo to my living room, and we’ll sit with it for hours—really unpacking it, rewriting lyrics, getting to the emotional core of what we’re trying to say. I love that process too, but I think there’s something really special about the earlier approach—just going off a feeling and building something from nothing in the moment. I’d love to get back to that a bit more. This album was made using both those methods, and I think you can really hear that duality throughout—some songs feel spontaneous and playful, while others are more reflective and tightly crafted.
LUNA: Do you have a personal favorite song on the album — one that feels closest to your heart or most revealing of who Shaggo is right now?
LUCY: “Minor League” is my favorite because of the lyrics. I think “Minor League” is so weird and singular—like, no one else has a song about that. It’s totally its own thing. There's a line in there, “The stadium is a cathedral,” which is ridiculous, but I stand by it. It’s silly, but it puts me in a good mood every time, which is why it made it onto my good morning playlist.
“My House” might be my favorite in terms of pure melody—it’s probably the best one I’ve ever written, and I’m so proud of the music. Our guitarist Thea added these amazing chord interlacings that just make it feel so rich and layered.
“I Wanted Fun”—that one is all emotional catharsis. I think a lot of people can relate to it. My mom even said she could. It’s about that all-too-familiar feeling: you’re just trying to chill, have a nice, normal day, and then some emotionally unregulated person decides to drag you onto their little roller coaster. It doesn’t even have to be romantic—it could be a co-worker, a stranger on the subway, anyone really. That song is about those moments, and I find it very cathartic.
CARINA: “City MD” is my favorite song, musically. It was actually the second song we ever wrote together, and we almost released it as a single—but we’re holding off because we’re about to shoot this totally chaotic, medieval-inspired music video for it in a couple of weeks. We want to give it a proper spotlight with the album release.
It started out really simple—honestly, it could have easily become a boring or throwaway track. But over time, we’ve really built it out into something that feels dynamic and surprising. It’s a little shoegaze-y for us as a punk band, which is part of what makes it exciting. Every time we play it, it feels like it’s gotten stronger. It’s grown alongside us as musicians.
We also spent a long time trying to get the mix just right. Our producer Teddy had a really important suggestion toward the end of the process—he told us to strip everything back at the beginning, to make space for the song to build and hit harder. He was absolutely right. At first, we were hesitant to let go of parts we were attached to, but it finally started to sound the way we had envisioned it in our heads. I’m really proud of how it turned out—both in terms of the recording and how we play it live. It’s a silly-serious song, which feels very us. It’s also the one most people talk to us about after shows, asking, ‘When’s that one coming out?’ So there’s definitely some pressure there, but mostly it’s just really exciting to finally be putting it out.
Photography Credit: Evi Fokas
LUNA: There’s a strong sense of community in how you operate—recording in friends’ basements, DIY production, radical femme energy. How important is that intimacy and community to SHAGGO’s existence?
LUCY: It's everything. I think it's why we do this. Community is really important to me. Seeing the same people, building the audience, seeing the same people come back, and seeing the same kinds of people come feels really good. I really believe in community organizing, both within and without SHAGGO.
CARINA: We recorded this album in our friend Moses’ basement. Moses is also a musician, and their basement is a home studio—very comfortable and cozy, but not overly polished. They were incredibly generous with their time and talents, recording alongside our guitarist, Thea. The whole experience felt really relaxed and collaborative, which was a huge change from some of the grueling, perfectionist recording sessions we’ve had in the past. We were able to just enjoy the process. Having Moses there as a friend really made the whole thing feel safe and comfortable. It was cool to see how Thea and Moses became friends too after the experience—it really added to the sense of community around the record.
Jasen from Atlanta Zone Records is another key part of the story. He actually played the first-ever show that SHAGGO performed, back when we were a three-piece with a very different lineup. We met him when his band was touring, and we instantly hit it off. I had no idea at the time that he had a label and we learned about his DIY label and his artist-centered approach. Jasen’s been an incredible, generous mentor to us, offering not just guidance on the release but also helping us strategize in ways that feel more personal and less transactional. It’s been amazing to watch Jasen’s other projects on Atlanta Zone Records. Jasen's label feels like a community, and it’s been so cool to be a part of that world. His approach has been really refreshing—supporting artists in a way that feels more like a partnership than just business.
LUNA: What role do you think independent labels like Atlanta Zone Records play in preserving and pushing forward the riot grrrl and post-punk legacy?
LUCY: I think a lot of those record label owners share a vision with the artists of message and community over profit.
CARINA: Talking to Jasen, it’s clear that he’s really passionate about fostering something special with his label. He’s not only cool with the DIY ethos, but he’s also incredibly knowledgeable about music history. We really clicked on that level, and I felt like, 'Wow, he really gets it.' Jasen's expertise lies in the Midwest scene, where he’s played in some larger bands, but when it comes to our music and the world we’re building, he totally understands it. I’m excited to release our stuff through his label because it feels like the right fit.
Smaller labels like Jasen’s are everything for independent, live bands. They may not have the budgets or reach of the bigger labels, but they provide something just as valuable: a sense of community and a place where the music really matters. There’s something special about being part of a label that is rooted in the same values we have, and we’re incredibly grateful to be a part of that. It feels like a partnership where the emphasis is on the art and the artists, and that’s what really excites us about the future.
LUNA: How are you feeling in this current era of your career and what does the rest of the year look like for you that you would love to share with Luna?
LUCY: We got a tour coming up in June. We're hitting up Boston, Philly, Baltimore and DC. So watch out. You've been warned. We're releasing our album. The poster is super iconic. Obviously, it'll be in your bedroom on a poster.
CARINA: We’re definitely hoping to do cassettes for our music. It feels like a crucial part of the process, especially because we really want to hold something tangible, something we’ve worked so hard on. I was talking to Lucy about it yesterday, and with everything going on, it feels a little overwhelming to think about adding more merch on top of everything else. But then Jasen brought up a cool option about DIY labels. He said, 'We can make some cassettes for you—burn them in-house.' I had no idea that was even something he could do, but it sounds like a perfect fit for us. I was really excited by the idea, and even though it’s a lot of waiting around while they burn, I’m looking forward to being a part of that process. There's something special about making it by hand, like our album art—it all feels so much more personal when it's created from scratch.
We’ve also been toying with other physical media ideas. One of my friends suggested we make custom thumb drives, which is interesting. We’re definitely looking into ways to release our music that feels personal and true to our ethos. Jasen and Cole over at Atlanta Zone have some great ideas, and we’re hoping to collaborate more with them on this.
On top of that, we’re gearing up for our first East Coast tour. It’s been amazing to see people on TikTok reaching out, telling us where they want us to play. Upstate New York is getting requests, and it’s great to know that people want to see us. Planning a tour is a lot of work though, and we’re definitely feeling the pressure. After all the music videos and the tour, I think we’ll need a breather. But, Lucy and I already have new material we’re thinking about, and as much as we’re focused on this release and tour, I’m really looking forward to getting back to the earlier stages of writing. That part has been missed, and I can’t wait to dive back into that creative space once we can finally take a beat. There’s something so exciting about that fresh start, that feeling of discovering new sounds and ideas.
