The Heart of Hardcore: Cherub Chains
INTERVIEWS
By Olivia Lee
8/3/26
The Seattle hardcore outfit looks to build community beyond the moshpit.

Cherub Chains performing at Black Lodge during the Real Asian Hate show (Photo by Mas Yamada).
The hardcore scene has been somewhat of an enigma to me. It’s something I felt I only could observe from afar, simultaneously drawn to yet intimidated by its passion. Part of this hesitation was sensible, I’m not exactly eager to throw myself into a violent moshpit. But a deeper sense of uncertainty lingered within me…I seldom saw other Asian people like me in these spaces, making it difficult to imagine that there was a place for me within it.
And then I met Molly Nguyen.
Whether she’s 2-stepping onstage or leading book club discussions, the multifaceted vocalist of Seattle hardcore band Cherub Chains and her band are committed to fostering a hardcore scene that prioritizes representation, inclusivity, and community for all.
The band’s origins date back to August 2024, shortly after Molly finished grad school. After recruiting her boyfriend, Mitchell Keo (drummer), along with some friends in the local scene, Cherub Chains came together with a sound that Mitchell described as “outspoken, loud, and very convicted in what we believe in.”
I got the chance to speak with Cherub Chains during the Seattle stop of the Real Asian Hate tour – a split tour between East Coast hardcore bands Ferment, No Model, and Dog Breath, with support from local hardcore groups – where our discussion on underrepresentation in hardcore, accepting your identity, and authentically building community transformed a scene that once felt distant into one that felt like home.
Hardcore Without Borders
Cherub Chains exists at a fascinating intersection of Asian culture and hardcore music, an identity the band both take pride in and advocate for. While they may seem like complete opposites, Molly views hardcore and Asian communities to be more similar than one would think.
“We all come from a place where we have to work our butt off to just make a living for ourselves,” she explains. “And obviously our parents who immigrated here also had to work their butts off to make a living for us and their future children. So there are a lot of parallels between that.”
She also views building community within both spaces as extremely similar acts.
“Building community to me means building trust with your neighbors,” she says. “I often think about the quote, ‘It takes a whole village to raise a child.’ And that applies so perfectly to building community. It's a collective collaborative and safe space where it's so much more about giving than consuming. You just gotta put yourself out there, be able to trust yourself and trust the people that are around you because it can't be done alone at all.”
Her bandmates echo this sentiment. “I think hardcore is very unique in the fact that the community that's around it is very passionate and very convicted,” Mitchell states. “There's a lot of strong beliefs and certain moral systems and political systems and what have you. And so I think that the bonds that we create in this subculture come from a very strong and passionate place.”
“Growing up with a few different cultures, being Spanish and like American, I never felt like I fit in,” guitarist Carlos Aleman remarks. “But now, being within this kind of community, I realize that I got to build my own culture and realize that there's a lot of other people like that too.”
Real Asian Hate, Real Asian Love
The Real Asian Hate show is an obvious example of their efforts to authentically build community in a hardcore setting. Molly hopes shows like this inspire other Asian people to get involved in the scene and break stereotypes.
“Kevin from (fellow Seattle hardcore band) Cujo and I often talk about how when we first started going to shows, we were like two of eight Asian people,” she recalls. “It's crazy to see where we're at tonight, where it's like the most Asian people I'll ever see at a hardcore show, and having an all Asian-fronted hardcore lineup. I had never thought that would happen in a million years.”
“So many people understand how important it is to us to have this kind of night, because it's rare to have three East Coast bands come over here and play,” Molly continues. “It's not easy to get over here, we don't make money playing music; we're doing it for the love of the game. We're passionate about it, and so having such a strong lineup of just intelligent, creative Asian people, it's just a dream come true for a lot of us."

Carlos Aleman (left) and Mitchell Keo (center) in an interview with Olivia Lee (right). (Photo by Mas Yamada)
Beyond the Moshpit
Molly’s community involvement extends far beyond the musical realm. She and Mitchell run the Chinatown Book Club, a monthly book club with a priority on AAPI authors at International District’s Mam’s Bookstore. The club is less about the books, and more about the community.
“People don't read the books,” Molly admits laughing. “They probably read a portion of it, but the questions are catered towards more like having more holistic and thoughtful conversations about our struggles and our lives of being Asian growing up. It's hardly ever about the book, but the book is like the catalyzer, the foundation for those conversations, and we've learned that a lot of people found it to be cathartic because they're speaking about topics that they're not used to talking about in front of people”
Additionally, Molly’s involved in the Little Saigon community, hosting shows at Hello Em Coffee Shop (she recommends getting their Pandan coffee). While it may be an unconventional space for a hardcore show, it’s been accepted with open arms by the community as a space for culture, coffee, and the cacophony of hardcore to merge.
“There were some older Asian aunties and uncles at the hardcore shows standing on chairs recording,” she remembers. “They thought it was so cool.”
Navigating Contradictions
An article by The Stranger describes Molly as “An Asian parent’s dream daughter.” This clash of identities created a lot of conflict for her in the days leading up to Cherub Chains. The biggest obstacle for her was the approval of her parents and the inevitable sibling comparison that would follow. She also felt a dreaded feeling of imposter syndrome. “I’m a science major,” she laughs. “Like, do I even belong here?”
“It was a lot of self-infliction where I confined myself into this box of self-doubt for over a decade,” Molly continues. “It wasn't until I finished grad school and finally stabilized myself and continued to go to shows over the years, and it took time to feel confident in pulling the trigger and starting Cherub Chains.”
Nowadays, her parents completely support her. “They're seeing me happy doing something creative that I enjoy that's outside of medicine or work,” she tells me. “And so that, to me, was the best compliment I could ever receive out of anybody else in the world.”
From One Asian to Another
As I talked with Molly, I realized I had more in common with her than I expected: we both grew up on the Eastside, pursued creative work in Seattle, and spent our high school years running track (in true hardcore fashion, she ran the 1600m and 3200m). Speaking to someone similar to me about representation in the scene made me realize how valuable it actually is.
“I brushed away my culture a lot.” Molly acknowledges. “Growing up, I wasn't proud of being Asian. I wanted to assimilate into westernized and American culture, but now over the last few years, I learned a lot from my parents. I learned a lot from other Asian people I met and I want to be more involved in these kind of communities.”
And that’s why this interview meant so much to me. Just like how Molly learned to embrace her Asian identity through the support of her community, I’m learning to do the same from her.
The Future of Cherub Chains
In terms of the band’s future, Mitchell promises that fans can expect heavier, more aggressive music and more tours. “It's just such a big passion project for all of us,” he says. “I don't think we'll ever compromise what we believe in, and I think it's always gonna be reflected in the music that we put out.”
