Monday, 20 October 2014

Words and guitar

Just last week I was chatting with my bff over a cuppa. He was getting super giddy about the rumours of a new Sleater Kinney song and I was being boring and detached and saying that I actually kinda hoped that the Kinney didn't have a reunion because what they had was so perfect I didn't see the need to revisit it. I loved the Kinney so fucking much, but now I was over it. 

I was a total lying liar face. 

Today along with every other person I know, I lost my shit hearing that the rumours were true and that the new Kinney album would be released next year along with a tour. Remember when I said I was over it? No way.

I've got to admit, me and the Kinney parted on strange terms. It was true fucking love, it was life changing love, it was the purest proper kind of love, but towards the end I got turned off at the new 8 minute guitar solos that became standard during The Woods tours. If I can go to the loo during one of your songs and come back and the same song is still playing, it's usually a turn off for me. The Woods didn't hit me in the chest with a sense of oh-my-god-nothing-I-will-ever-accomplish-in-my life-will-ever-be-as-good-as-this-album-so-what's-the-point? kind of feeling that Kinney albums usually left me feeling. But when I heard about their hiatus I felt so sad having lost one of the greatest bands of my life. 

Sleater Kinney were everything. I remember reading about them in Manda-Rin's zine Funky Spunk and being obsessed from the first time I ever heard Little Babies. I remember travelling round the country to see them, sleeping in train stations, catching megabuses and fangirling my face off at the fact that Corin Tucker existed. I remember seeing them at the Roadhouse in 1999 with Valerie, it was so hot the venue had started to rain sweat. I remember Janet Weiss saving my life and passing me a bottle of water when I thought I was gonna faint. I remember keeping that bottle of water safe for years after. 

Like everyone I know, One More Hour has documented most of my break-ups. I was going through a particularly horrible break up just as The Woods came out and it's horrible having an 8 minute guitar solo being the soundtrack to your pain. 

I remember listening to early Sleater Kinney and Heavens to Betsy and daring myself to come out to people because I knew I was queer and hadn't said it yet but could sing along to songs in my bedroom about Corin Tucker being in love with another girl. 

Sleater Kinney are a proper big part of the younger me, and I see them as something in the past which is why I meant that I didn't really want them to reform. Because what if their new album is jazz influenced or electro or just plain awful and I have to pretend I like it just to keep Sleater Kinney as consistently brilliant in my head? I've got admit, I'm not falling head over heels in love with the new song that's currently streaming, it doesn't make me feel all that much so I'm wary about the new album. But the thought of seeing them again, of breathing the same air as Corin Fucking Tucker, the thought of screaming my face off to songs that mean everything to me is making feel so excited. I'll happily endure the 8 minute guitar solos for that.