Hear Me Out: Women Are Taking Over Rock Music, and That's Awesome





Wherein the author cops to being kind of a music sexist (but don't worry, rehab is going great).

Growing up, some of my first musical memories were provided by women; from the growling, snarling snap of Joan Jett's I Love Rock n' Roll to the smooth, slick pop of Eurythmics, my first decade on this planet was soundtracked by a host of kickass females. Hell, when I was thirteen I took a three day trip with my parents and brought along my Walkman and one cassette: Roxette's Look Sharp

Before a Pearl Jam song woke my soul in late 1993 and I really started taking this whole "I love music" thing seriously, my tastes were actually wildly varied, thanks in part to Columbia House (which, for you young whippersnappers, was a mail order album subscription service wherein you got eleven CDs or tapes for a penny and agreed to buy a handful at $20 each over the next few years). In addition to the hair metal that laid the foundation for my early teens tape collection, you'd find all sorts of questionable albums (i.e. two by MC Hammer), encompassing nearly all genres. 

Anyway, my life was changed by the music the media insisted on dubbing "grunge" and, even though I dug what L7, Liz Phair and Veruca Salt were doing, it wasn't as easy to sing along to from a tonal point of view, nor as easy to identify with from a gender point of view. Little by little, the dudes took over my listening habits; don't get me wrong, I was being exposed to more female talent than ever (PJ Harvey, Garbage, Bjork, Hole, Ani DiFranco, Juliana Hatfield, etc.), it just wasn't speaking to me on that primal level like all those tortured male artists I took so much solace in.

By the time the Spice Girls came around with Girl Power, Incorporated in '96, the role of females in rock music had been pretty heavily diminished already, and what amounted to a live action incarnation of Jem and the Holograms certainly did more harm than good. What the Spice Girls didn't destroy was lasered off by Britney, Christina and J-Lo, as the message to teen girls was crystal clear: spend half your allowance on make up and the other half on skimpy clothes and maybe, just maybe, you can try out for American Idol.

Quick: which female rock artist had the greatest impact of the '00s?

If you couldn't think of one, or it took you more than a few seconds to say Sleater-Kinney, don't be ashamed; the entire decade is riddled with pop starlets who came in under the pretense of "rock" (Avril Lavigne) failed upstarts (Kittie, anyone?), diminishing returns from '90s rockers (whatever Courtney Love was up to) and cookie-cutter bands who hired a female singer to stand out from the crowd (Evanescence). There have been a few notable albums (I'd be remiss if I didn't give props to Yeah Yeah Yeahs' Fever to Tell or The Distillers' Coral Fang), but certainly nothing like the run of greatness we saw in the first quarter of 2015.



To have a rock solid Album of the Year contender released between January and March is rare enough, let alone five of them. That all five feature female leads is nearly unfathomable, and yet when I look at the five album covers above I get the sense that any of them could take the crown at year's end (If that fifth cover doesn't ring a bell, that's the new Royal Thunder album, for which the review is forthcoming. Spoiler alert: it's a rock solid Album of the Year contender).


Maybe it feels more significant because it's been a pretty quiet couple of decades for female rock stars, or maybe Sleater-Kinney coming out of the gate with a career highlight unlocked something deep in my mind; whatever the case, this year is most definitely shaping up to be one that's dominated by women. I shamefully admit that there may have been a time when I wasn't okay with that, back when I was wallowing in self-loathing to Staind, or breaking stuff to Limp Bizkit. As an angry young man, that awful dreck is what I was left with in the late '90s as the alternative groups I loved faded into obscurity or outright gave up.

As rock was overtaken by these chest thumping, misogynistic bro rockers and most true artistic visions went unchecked except by snarky bloggers like me, rock went through one of its driest creative spells, a draught of originality that we've yet to fully recover from. Sure, there are plenty of unique and exciting groups that came along in the last fifteen years, but how many of them have left such a lasting impact that you can point to them and say, "that's what bands will aspire to sound like in 2030"?


The five records listed above represent a sea change in the hierarchy of rock, with queens assuming the throne where there used to be Queen. Are they multi-platinum smash hits? No, but no one's making those anymore. These women don't symbolize what's popular, they symbolize what's important. Led by those who've been there before (Sleater-Kinney, and don't forget that we're potentially looking at new L7 and Veruca Salt records later this year), we're in the thick of a new golden age for women in rock, as a generation of female-fronted bands are finding their footing and releasing brilliant music that nods to the Liz Phairs and Garbages of the world while keeping an ear toward the future.

As it stands right now, from an artistic standpoint, women are saving rock n' roll in a way that Fall Out Boy only dreams they could. You know how Melvins and Pixies released critically acclaimed albums in the '80s that didn't sell so much but inspired Kurt Cobain during Nirvana's formative years? When I listen to Screaming Females and Courtney Barnett, I hear the kind of music that doesn't grab headlines but might inspire young girls like my seventeen year old daughter to pick up a guitar and give it a go. Moreover, it's the kind of music that inspires a middle aged, recovering bro-rock lover to put away any silly, predetermined notions that female artists belong in a separate category than males. Although, in terms of my year end honours, I may have to do that so the guys get at least one award.


Sure, there's a snowball's chance that this is some kind of crazy coincidence, that all of this will be forgotten by year's end when the bearded masses come thundering down the hillside to reclaim the glory. Or maybe we're witnessing the beginning of the biggest rock renaissance since Nirvana. One thing's for certain: Kurt would have loved it.

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