"I'm the queen of rock and roll"
Till the nineties, female bands in rock where very, very rare, but the so-called Riot Grrrl movement gave the opportunity to lots of screaming women to change that. The only really good band to survive the initial flood of this kind of groups, closely related with punk, was Sleater-Kinney. These three ladies (Corin Tucker - guitar and lead vocal; Carrie Brownstein - guitar and back-up vocals and Lora McFarlane - drums; no bass player!) have been the most solid and, well, entertaining band of the second half of the decade, and they're still at it. Their distintive sound is based in the guitar interplay between Tucker and Brownstein and the former's high-pitched voice. And wow, do they rock. You should give them a listen.
"Cute little girls" was a deliberately sexist expression. Don't take it seriously. Sleater-Kinney did really get it right after their obscure self-titled debut: energy, anger and, what's more important, great melodies are now their presentation card, and everything works, apart from some distorted ugly screams and inaudible harmonies. Things start off great with the menacing title track, and its scary lyrics set the mood for the rest of the album, that basically revolves around female alienation. "Hubcap" is built on the contrast between the calm verses and the roaring chorus, and rocks hard, but nothing can surpass "Little Mouth", the next track: the Spice Girls would have killed for that song, and Tucker sings so fast that she seems to lose breath, only to attack then with renewed energy ("ah, you wanna try her, ah, I think I wanna, AH, YOU WANNA TRY HER, AH, I THINK I WANNA, DAMM YOU!!!"). In the good old days of vinyl the powerful ballad "Good Things" would have closed side one, and left you begging for more. Fortunately, then comes yet another strong contender for the title of best song of this great album, "I Wanna Be Your Joe Ramone". Well, you surely are mine, Corin, but ain't lines like "I'm the queen of rock and roll" a bit pretentious? Don't worry, they're only poking fun at the whole music biz - I hope - and that chorus is really cool. Other highlights include the simple, devastating, "I'm Not Waiting" and the closer, "Heart Attack", that is almost a - gasp - pop song. Ya know, all punk albums are a bit monotonous, and here there are some songs that I don't like too much ("Stay Where You Are", "Taste Test"), but they are always listenable. Overall, Call The Doctor can make you recover your faith in rock and put the Sex Pistols to shame at the same time.
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Well, new drummer Janet Weiss jumps aboard and the band, having already refined their irresistible punkish formula, don't drift away too much from the usual screaming rockers and ambiguous lyrics. However, there's more diversity than on Call The Doctor, as shown by odd instrumental touches like the muted, almost unnoticeable saxophone on "It's Enough", and the few and interesting slow numbers (the percussion-less "Buy Her Candy", the stately "Jenny"). Thanks to the polished production, Dig Me Out may appeal more to those who, like me, don't like punk too much, and is as carefree an album as anything you're likely to hear nowadays, with frequent nods to the fifties ("Words And Guitar", the oddly titled "Dance Song '97") and sing-along choruses ("Little Babies"). The title track kicks in with a great riff and a "you got me... for now" luvly tiny hook, and from then on, you'll hardly get bored, for the power ballads ("One More Hour", the almost cathartic "Things You Say") and unstoppable rockers ("The Drama You've Been Craving", "Not What You Want") are all equally engaging. "Heart Factory" is rather creepy, and recalls the anti-establishment paranoia of "Call The Doctor", while "Turn It On" will simply leave you breathless by when the chorus finally shows up, with Tucker going from a whisper to a scream with enviable ease. Throughout, Janet never misses the beat, Corin and Carrie keep developing their symbiosis, with increasingly intriguing guitar lines and sweet harmonies, and I can barely stop myself from taping my feet. Still, something bugs me: where have I seen that cover before?
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