Blasting out of the Pacific Northwest feminist punk movement aptly referred to as the "riot grrrls," Sleater-Kinney has been rattling the bones of critics and listeners since 1994. The combination of Corin Tucker’s urgently shrieking vocals, Carrie Brownstein’s equally distinctive voice, frantic guitar playing and Janet Weiss’s relentless drumming has given the world a power-trio important enough to be forever remembered in the history of music’s heaviest hitters.
With a run of seven excellent albums under its belt, ending with its 2005 magnum opus "The Woods," and enough media praise to thrust them into the stratosphere, America’s finest punk outfit decided it was time to initiate a dreaded, but well-deserved hiatus. A decade later, the unexpected announcement of Sleater-Kinney’s comeback entitled "No Cities to Love" hit like a divine intervention set to rescue us from rock music’s ever-growing whirlpool of mediocrity.
Much of Sleater-Kinney’s work isn’t immediately accessible. The complexity and grit of their sound requires several listens before it can sink in properly. "No Cities to Love" follows suit. The jagged guitar riffing of opening track “Price Tag” makes this challenge evident right from the start – a trope that never quite lets up, possibly alienating their chances at a mainstream takeover.
Tucker’s thunderous wails never quite hit “The Fox” levels of sheer volume on "No Cities," perhaps suggesting time’s ageist rot has set in – but then again few seasoned rock vocalists in their 40s can muster sounds of youth to the degree she can either. She still sounds great, as best evidenced with her performance on the catchiest song of the bunch, “Hey Darling.”
The tight, 33-minute runtime doesn’t produce a single ballad – bizarre, considering Sleater-Kinney’s history – but the lack of one allows the forward momentum to chug on like a runaway locomotive, never losing its steam. Such a formula rarely works for artists, but when your album is completely devoid of a dud this type of ferocity works well.
Brownstein’s typically vicious guitar work is mellowed a bit on "No Cities to Love," and tracks like “Fangless” highlight this relaxation and her ability to interplay with Weiss’ frenetic, yet danceable beat. “No Anthems” has the two melding again as Weiss’ triplet-infused thudding supplements the typical Brownstein cut-like-a-knife guitar work. The chemistry between them has always given the band an added level of buoyancy and skeletal support for their loose structure.
Lyrically, Sleater-Kinney is always poignant. “A New Wave” has Brownstein and Tucker struggling with genre identification as both of them chant: “No one here is taking notice / No outline will ever hold us.”
Their frustration with being pigeonholed becomes palpable. On “Bury Our Friends,” the duo convey the nervousness piggybacking on the band's own comeback, “We’re wild and weary but we won’t give in. … We live on dread in our gilded age.” They know the expectations are high and all eyes in the industry are laser-sighted on them. They’re "sick with worry,” itching to be made into a headline so they can “see the gold,” almost begging for a newfound venture into success.
Reunion albums almost never go according to plan. Rushed release dates, drained creative spirits and strained relationships within the band routinely ignite the dreams of long-time fans who just want their favorite group to kick-back to the glory days. Whether it’s Guns N’ Roses’ long awaited and dubiously mediocre "Chinese Democracy" or The Stooges with the uninspired "The Weirdness" album, legendary bands have been botching comebacks for decades.
Thankfully rock enthusiasts can rejoice – Sleater-Kinney’s 10-year hiatus has been good to them. "No Cities to Love" lives up to the lofty expectations its creators’ have wound around themselves in almost every way.
Tell the reporter about your love or hate for Sleater-Kinney at nlatona@asu.edu or follow @Bigtonemeaty on Twitter.
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