Wouldn’t it be fantastic to be able to actually live life without regrets? I know a few people who claim to live without regrets, but I think everyone has a least a couple buried in the back of their closet. Even if you don’t have the sort of personal-lifestyle-opportunity regrets that cut close to the bone every time you think about them, you probably have a few of the caliber I’m about to talk about, namely missed rock ‘n’ roll moments.
Musical junkies always have a little list that they keep in their mental back pocket of all of the bands they want to see live. Some bands break up way before you’re of concert-going age, or before you’re even born, and there isn’t much you can do about it. Some bands only toured a couple of times and nowhere near a place you could get to. Some bands, though, toured and came close to you, and you thought to yourself, “I’ll see them the next time around,” and then tragically, stupidly, there is no next time.
For me, Sleater-Kinney falls into that last category. Three women who are gods of rock. Thundering, muscular drum beats with fine veneer of cymbals washing over them. Searing, incisive guitars that have made those far greater than I pump both their fists and go weak in the knees. Not to mention the sheer face-melting hotness of having Carrie Brownstein, Corin Tucker, and Janet Weiss all in one room together in the first place (Carrie is more my type, while Mimi Smartypants has a thing for Corin. Who likes Janet? Wait, who doesn’t like Janet?)
Carrie, Janet, & Corin
My love for Sleater-Kinney is so great that Miranda July, who I previously found a bit too precious (I don’t think her collection of short stories No One Belongs Here More Than You uses a single goddamn contraction) got a Get Out of Jail Free pass when I found out she directed the music video for “Get Up.”
Oh man. “Get Up” is a fucking amazing song. When you look up “Indie Rock Guitar” in the Dictionary of Awesome, it plays this song. The guitar parts are sort of abstract and a little bouncy, but still jagged and totally ripping it up. And while the whole song is fantastic, the bridge is especially fucking so, with the guitar getting fast and a little peppy and almost sloppy in a way that makes you want to stand up on your chair and start shaking your ass! It’s pretty much made entirely of fucking hardcore sweetness.
I haven’t even mentioned the lyrics. If you asked me what this song is about, I would have to say something like, “the splendor of mortality and how finite human existence is and how totally inspiring that is!” And then you would probably call me a fag and kick me, but check it out! Here are the words!
“Get Up”
©1999 Sleater-KinneyAnd when the body finally starts to let go
let it all go at once
not piece by piece.
but like a whole bucket of stars
dumped into the universe.
Whoooh! Watch it go!
Good-bye small hands, good-bye small heart
good-bye small head
My soul is climbing tree trunks
and swinging from every branchThey’re calling on me,
they’re calling one me…Do you think I’m an animal?
Am I not?
Do you like fur
Do you wanna come over
Are we captive only for a short time
Is there splendor, I’m not ashamed
Desire shoots through me
like birds singing
(The way you move no ocean’s waves were ever as fluid)They’re calling on me,
they’re calling one me…I hit the mark!
I target moon, I target sky, I target sun.
Fall down on the world before it falls on you.Like beggars, like Stars,
like whores, us all
Like beggars, like dogs
Like Stars, us allShoot straight for my heart
(And when you were near no sky was ever quite so clear)Like stars, so small
Like us. when we fall
Like beggars, like whores
Like lovers, Get Up!
Get up…too far.
You read those, and you’re like, “there’s NO WAY they could set those to music!” But we’ve already been over how fucking awesome the music is. The words make it a fucking masterpiece! What makes the video a masterpiece too (good work, Miranda July!) is how it takes the idea of “Get Up,” and makes it about helping each other get up. This is a video with no men! It’s all women! Each member of the band, in turn, falls down at life, which leaves them in a metaphorical field (the Field of Despair, if you will). And the awesome thing about the Field of Despair is that your friends are always combing it for you, and if you’ve fallen into it, they’ll find you and pull you back up. And then you can watch the sweet supernovas of the universe together. Check it:
Doesn’t it just make you want to cry and scream and dance? And have a giant fucking blowout dance party with all of your best girlfriends?
Sleater-Kinney toured tantalizingly near me several times while I was in college, but I was always too cool, too busy, too mind-blowingly idiotic to make the trek to see them. And as of 2006, no more. I completely blew my chance. No matter how spontaneously, rock-and-roll devil-may-care freely I live my life, I have this regret: never throwing my sweat-soaked underwear on stage at Carrie Brownstein. You’re welcome, Carrie.
Tags: sleater-kinney
January 28th, 2009 at 9:34 pm
Janet was always my favorite!
I know pretty much next to nothing about music, but I’ve always really respected their combination of hardness and vulnerability. I think they are so good that their goodness is recognizable to even the music idiots of the world.
What did you think of The Woods? I hear such varying opinions…
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mitchco says:
January 28th, 2009 at 9:39 pm
I haven’t ever given it a really good listen, actually. I almost always forget about it, because I was so into One Beat that I forget that anything happened after it, except the break up. I will try listening to it tomorrow at work and see how I feel!
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