GIF via Lars Gotrich/NPR
Sleater-Kinney's decade-long hiatus means that many fans catching the No Cities to Lovetour are seeing the band's iconic live show for the very first time—including Pitchfork contributors Molly Beauchemin, Hazel Cills, Suzy Exposito, Melody Lau, Jill Mapes, and Jenn Pelly. They weighed in on witnessing the legend this past week in New York, Philadelphia, and Toronto. Sleater-Kinney's tour resumes March 18 in Berlin and makes its way to Pitchfork Music Festival in July.
Poster by Kyler Martz
Jenn Pelly: Hello, Sleater-Kinney first-timers. Until last Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, I had never known the sheer joy of seeing Sleater-Kinney live. I've been waiting for what feels like my whole life—dreaming of knowing their greatness firsthand, but never with hopes too high. I've lived vicariously through YouTube: that "One More Hour" clip at Tower, searing takes of "#1 Must Have" and "Entertain" on funny talk shows, a dark glimpse of "Words and Guitar" from Songs for Cassavetes. I didn't know of Sleater-Kinney in the 90s, when I was a kid. My relationship with their catalog has been a personal one that I have primarily developed alone, so I basically never want to stop talking about these shows I attended—two in New York and one in Philly.
At the first one, I watched from up front, and then from further back at the other two gigs—I wanted to scale the crowd. I felt the meaning of these songs was drawn out dramatically in a live setting. To see Carrie scream "THEY ARE LYING TO YOU!" on the greatest anti-nostalgia anthem ever, "Entertain", for these sold-out audiences emphasized how radical it has always been for Sleater-Kinney to be a wildly popular band with an unconventional ethos. Who else is going to tell you that the establishment (musical or otherwise) are all liars, if not a great punk band? Another highlight: watching Corin introduce "Gimme Love" with a speech about women's reproductive health and a shout to Planned Parenthood, who had a presence at every date of the tour (now some of us have little bags of condoms with illustrations of Sleater-Kinney's faces on them). And this recurring mome:
GIF via Lars Gotrich/NPR
The raw emotion of "One More Hour", "Get Up", "Start Together", and "Sympathy" really put me over. Fandom is a funny thing, and when it's genuine it's often outside our control. We respond viscerally—crying, clenching our chests, screaming til our voices crack—and only realize afterwards how wacky and possessed we look. Glancing around the frontrow on Thursday night in New York, I recalled images of girls freaking out to the Beatles in the 60s:
In an interview surrounding No Cities to Love, Carrie Brownstein explained how riot grrrl impacted her: "I thought, 'This is the sound my heart would make it I could amplify it.'" That's something I've felt while listening to Sleater-Kinney, too, and I finally got to hear it loud—booming through massive clubs, occupying physical space, creeping into my bones and reminding me why music matters so much. It was energizing. So, tell me, what did you think?
Jill Mapes: I was just starting college when Sleater-Kinney called it quits. I hadn't been cool enough to discover them, or much music made by women, when I was in high school. I was convinced Sleater-Kinney would remain a Missed Connection, at least in a live sense. So I was anxious as hell to finally experience S-K live.
At the show on Friday at Terminal 5, NYC's most miserable venue, I experienced a wave of emotions I hadn't expected. The show started with less palpable fervor than I had hoped, but something hit me a few songs in, as the band picked up speed and volume. Corin Tucker, Carrie Brownstein and Janet Weiss looked so feminine and fashionable—but not in the overtly sexy way that rock'n'roll permits, or even requires, of women who don't choose androgyny—while conjuring so much musical fury. It was an incredibly powerful juxtaposition.
My whole life, I have been girly and interested in style. For a long time this side of me felt at odds with my interest in obsessing over and playing rock'n'roll. It's no coincidence that my teenaged tomboy phase took hold during my most active years playing electric guitar. I never thought Sleater-Kinney's clothes would matter to me, but seeing Tucker ripping it to shreds in a girly pleated skirt and heeled boots felt a little like a "fuck you" to rock's history of hyper-masculinity—much like Sleater-Kinney itself.
Suzy Exposito: Men: still as painfully oblivious as they were during Sleater-Kinney's inception in 1994. Downstairs at Terminal 5, friends of mine complained of rabid Fred Armisen fanboys and tall dudes parking front and center in the pit, blocking the view of many diehard fans under 5'4". The cool rock'n'roll blogosphere must have told these brosephs that this particular girlband show was a historic event, or something, which means they were obligated to Manifest Destiny their way to the front! And act thorougly unimpressed, with the exception of Dancing Man in Ringer Tee. (I salute you, Dancing Man in Ringer Tee.)
I figured I would fare better on the second-floor balcony, where myself and a few other fans of small stature staked our claim. Meanwhile, Janet Weiss was busy bossing it up with her roaring drum (and cowbell) solos, barely breaking a sweat. Carrie Brownstein's sweeping windmill-kick combo attacks of yesteryear—which, admittedly, I've only seen on YouTube—were replaced by more calculated squats and other quad-strengthing moves as she noodled away at her guitar. Corin Tucker made an impressive show of vocal endurance, running through deep cuts with economic restraint and charging through fan favorites with operatic prowess.
Melody Lau: I was in high school the first time I heard Sleater-Kinney. Their music video for "Entertain" came on TV late at night and the sheer power of their music knocked me out of my drowsy state. I thought: "Oh my god, what the fuck is this? I NEED THIS." Almost a decade later, seeing them for the very first time, I had that exact same thought. An image of my teenage- and present day-selves:
GIF via the "Bob's Burger"-created "A New Wave" video
To borrow my friend Michael's Facebook status: "Sleater-Kinney—the only reunion tour in rock history where no one's sad to hear the entire new album."
Molly Beauchemin: I was driving from Portland to Seattle with some friends last May when I realized we were going to pass Sleater-Kinney road and I started losing my shit like an Elvis fan en route to Graceland. I felt like I was making a pilgrimage. I took pictures, I started playing "Get Up", I had a moment of silence that I wrote about in my diary later that night—shit got weird fast:
It took me three or four songs to realize I was actually seeing Sleater-Kinney live. I guess I've been a fan for so long, and in such an emotionally-loaded capacity, that I feel like I already know them. What kicked the show into gear for me was seeing Carrie do one of her high-kicks and then swiftly turn around and exchange her guitar between songs—you have to appreciate the loaded visual that is a lithe, fashionable woman handing off a guitar to her guitar tech, the tattooed dude doing her bidding. And then everything started to build and the band loosened up. Carrie's kicking and pirouetting and jumping around in high-heeled boots and I'm realizing: the way she moves is a work of art. Not because it's graceful, but because it's so insanely deliberate, a deliberate move in a world of fake gestures, like "I am here, we are in it!", and that's important. The world needs more women who can do jump kicks and really own it.
Hazel Cills: Seeing Janet play live really confirmed to me how wicked of a drummer she is. When she started playing harmonica for "Modern Girl", I actually screamed and my friend made fun of me for it. I was also surprised when Corin did "Gimme Love" sans guitar at the front of the stage—it kind of confirmed her primacy as SK's frontwoman, as I feel like a lot of people I know have felt weird about Carrie's magnified spotlight the past few years. It felt like a supremely important show to be at, one of those shows where every single person around you is singing the words, and I think I was riding this high because I really didn't think I was going to get to see them, ever.