Grrl, Interrupted?

Is it just me or is Riot Grrl making a weird comeback? For those of us, male or female, who still jump around to Fontanelle and All Hands on the Bad One, I supposed it never really left. And here and there, there’s bands like Gossip, who are full-on famous now but haven’t forgotten their roots as dirt-poor punk zine-makers in Arkansas and later in Olympia, WA. On the flip side of things, I’m sure there are many who would be happy to see riot grrl, its women and “womyn” stay buried in the annals of history until the end of time. And fair enough—I’m not sure any of us were quite prepared.

( In high school, my brother once peered up at a photo of Bikini Kill frontwoman Kathleen Hanna wedged in my mirror frame, silently taking in the leopard-print bathing suit, crusty pink lipstick, “INCEST” scrawled angrily across the breastbones and black hair bristling in the armpits, looked at me, and said quietly, “She looks like she wants to punch me in the penis.”)

• a version of the photograph in question

Anyway, recent stories have popped up in various media that suggest people are getting pretty nostalgic for these bygone days of fem-punk and politics. Last week in Slate’s Double X column, two authors of recent books on punk and pop culture asked: Does the riot grrl ethos live on in the likes of Lady Gaga and the Spice Girls? Or is it a more singular phenomenon, rooted in a distinct time and place?

More directly, Bikini Kill has just set up an online archive where fans can send in show reviews, photos, testimonials and other memories to keep the long-defunct band’s memory alive. Considering that about 85% of Bikini Kill fans I know are librarians anyway, the idea is appropriate; moreover, the archive is a fun, inspiring read.

• KH in library mode

A more polarizing figure from the era has also returned in a big way: Courtney Love graces the cover of SPIN’s 25th anniversary issue this month, wreathed in flowers, collagen-lipped.
(Cue the commenter cries of protest: “Washed-up hag!” is one of the nicer ones.) Perez Hilton—whose Love-hate relationship has so far manifested itself through Twitter in-fighting and posting private notes from her Facebook—made a remarkably vacuous about-face earlier this week, praising Love’s Hole comeback show in London.

• The way we were.

(And, slightly off topic: Does anyone still remember the story of Love brawling with Hanna at Lollapalooza 1995? Am I—and are they—seriously that old? Oh, these rose-hued memories!)

Hanna’s considerable shadow exists in more local realms as well. You’ve already read Sue Carter Flinn‘s post about Hanna’s donations of Bikini Kill zine memorabilia to the NYU library. THe post also linked to Bitch magazine’s evaluation of Halifax’s modern-day electro-grrl Jenocide in light of Hanna’s brainy dance stance in the immortal Le Tigre.

Meanwhile, those multilingual dance-fuckers in ECT (and lead singer Lindsay Allain in particular) have earned comparisons to Hanna in this paper and elsewhere, and they continue to play gigs and bolster a nicely growing scene of women in punk and rock bands (example: this Friday’s (Feb 26) show at Gus’ with Meat Curtains.)

• ECT want to go to the Carnival.

Either way—and looong story short—we’re pleased that all of this is being reported, discussed and supported by scenes both at home and far away—RIGHT NOW. The history of “grrl” culture may be patchy and all of this could just be chalked up to a mass ill-advised nostalgia trip, but it’s definitely a phase of teenage girldom that we never quite grew away from, and perhaps it’s time to embrace it anew.

This article appears in Feb 18-24, 2010.