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
