Dear Forbidden: Grunge, Grit, and Humor in Equal Measure
Photo: Ramon Gadea
Philadelphia’s Dear Forbidden have never been too concerned with fitting neatly into a box. Call them grunge, call them fuzz rock, call them whatever you like—just don’t expect polish. What this band does is raw, visceral, and unapologetically loud. They’re the embodiment of attitude as much as sound: four musicians exhaling frustration and irony into a world that often feels absurd.
Formed around 2015, Dear Forbidden’s origin story reads like the kind of self-mythologizing every good rock band ought to embrace. Guitarist/vocalist Gina LC started things off, bassist Ryan came aboard in 2016, and the pivotal spark struck in 2017 when longtime friend Steph sat behind the drums for what was supposed to be a one-off gig. “It felt like asking the most popular girl in school to prom,” the band recalls. Steph said yes, and the band’s core chemistry snapped into place. By 2020, guitarist Kyle added a second layer of fuzz and swagger, completing the quartet.
Since then, Dear Forbidden has left their mark across Philadelphia and beyond, from sweaty clubs to far-flung stages in Poughkeepsie and Wilmington. Along the way, they’ve built a catalog of releases—Glitter and Dissonance (2016), Slow Beat (2017), and Before the Night Expires (2020). This October, they level up with their first full-length record, a self-titled collection of eight tracks that lands just in time for Halloween. Think of it as a séance, a catharsis, and an exorcism all in one.
Critics have taken notice. WXPN’s John Vettese described their sound as “a vehicle for catharsis… charging beats, heavily fuzzed out riffs, and 90s-style vocal harmonies.” Ada Wolford (My Little Underground) points out their “tightness reminiscent of Speedy Ortiz” and praises Gina’s voice as “truly her own and begging no comparison.” For listeners, what stands out most is the strange cocktail of sardonic humor and searing honesty: music that laughs at its own pain, while hitting like a clenched fist.
Photo: Ramon Gadea
I asked the band a few questions to dig deeper into the paradox that is Dear Forbidden:
Your bio is full of self-mythologizing and humor—how much of Dear Forbidden is about the music, and how much is about the attitude you bring to it?
Gina & Ryan: “We would say that Dear Forbidden is completely serious about the music, but not so serious about themselves or the other aspects of being in a band. Finding humor in the challenges that can come with band life makes it much easier (and more fun) to sustain. Also, is there really a way to divorce the music from the attitude? They inform each other. One wouldn’t really exist without the other.”
What scares you more: being misunderstood, or being fully understood?
Gina: “I personally would be more afraid of being misunderstood than being fully understood, because I feel pretty passionately and certain about my values and my efforts to live in alignment with them—even if I do it imperfectly sometimes. I’d be more upset if that wasn’t obvious than if it was.”
That big moment in 2017 with Steph—what really clicked?
Gina & Ryan: “We’d known Steph for a long time before she joined, and we were big fans. She initially agreed to fill in for us for one gig when we lost our original drummer, but then we heard the power, tightness, and creativity that she brought to the band and wanted to have her on with us on a more permanent basis. When we asked her to join the band, it felt like asking the most popular girl in school to prom, and she said yes!”
How hard are you trying to tear down the identification of ‘grunge revival’?
Ryan: “I think it’s kind of pointless to fight against that kind of stuff. People can put us in whatever kind of classification they want and we’ll keep continuing to do what we do.”
Cover art: Leonardo Vargas
Dear Forbidden may joke about UFO sightings, candy magnates, and owning real estate on the planet Nibiru, but their art is no punchline. The band thrives in the tension between humor and heaviness, cynicism and sincerity. Their music doesn’t just echo the ghosts of the ’90s—it pushes against genre altogether, testing the limits of fuzz, wit, and raw emotion.
And maybe that’s the whole point. Dear Forbidden aren’t here to revive anything. They’re here to make noise that matters, and to laugh at the world while they do it.
Their debut full-length Dear Forbidden drops October 17th—perfect for whatever ghosts you’re looking to raise this fall.
You can go ahead and Pre-order their coming album now at Bandcamp
