"Take That Stuff Off Your Nails" is a raw insight into a Goth's struggle to maintain identity in a traditional family. The piece puts listeners in Luis Leon's shoes, allowing them to experience firsthand the rejection he must withstand. Living in a neighborhood predominantly run by people dressed like "gangbangers", Luis sticks out like a sore thumb. People blatantly stare in their cars as he walks in his Gothic attire.

From the beginning, Leon's choice of words, keeps the listener interested. Using "my hood" to describe his neighborhood makes the listener wonder whether this was sincere or a mockable imitation of the "gangbangers" he deviates from.

The haircut scene between Luis and his father was beautifully crafted. The intensity and symbolism of the haircut left a lasting impression on the listener. The narrator's ability to express his emotions without using much range in tone was impressive. Instead, his carefully chosen words and personal Gothic music at the end, adequately embodies his frustration.

This stark first-person narrative, produced by Luiz Leon, is rougher and more disturbing than other topnotch Curie Youth Radio pieces I've listened to.

Here's Luiz's story: one day he returns from high school to his basement apartment. Decked out in his customary Goth black long-sleeved shirt and jeans, he's sporting a spiked bracelet and steel-toe boots. His unhip Latino dad, who has been watching TV, calls him into the kitchen and, enraged, in one terrifying scene, cuts off Luiz's long hair.

After the Beatles made long hair fashionable in the 1960s, scenes like this must have occurred in umpteen white suburban homes. But Luiz's fury and anguish at having his hair scissored feels unique to this decade. He sees everything that he cares about -- his music, his dreams, his Goth life style -- fall to the floor with every chopped lock of hair. If only he could smash the dishes, the TV, his modest basement apartment!

If only he could pull down the temple like his Biblical counterpart, Samson. Instead, a desolate Luiz says, "Every day I wake up. I look at the mirror, waiting and watching my hair growing, bringing me back." The piece segues to a musical finale with Luiz's hope, the restoration of one young man's identity, as something devoutly to be desired.

I had trouble understanding a few phrases here and there. Not that this real-life interstitial should feature a Goth teenager whose English sounds as polished as that of Los Angeles mayor Antonio Villaraigosa. But Luiz's speech patterns, which reflect the raw street cred of this piece, sometimes challenged my ears.