Early in my freshman year of college, I was severely reprimanded and summarily cold-shouldered by the newly formed Womyn's Collective for the following suggestion:
Silence. I squirmed a bit in my seat, and felt stares of my classmates so hot with accusation that I swore I could feel the skin burning off my face.
The girl in charge (who would never admit to being in charge-- after all, this was a radical feminist organization and hierarchy is a patriarchal construct) cleared her throat ominously: "Would you mind clarifying your comment, Alison?"
I swallowed, stymied. How the hell do I get out of this one? I mean, this is an all-women's college, and I've just cleared the path to take the sacred cow to the slaughtering block. So I followed through. "Well, clearly I'm not going to make friends no matter what I say, so I might as well finish what I started.
"It's like this: I think riot grrls are allowed, even encouraged, to play music of a significantly lesser quality than their male counterparts. I know it's punk rock to sound all raw and simplified, but it seems like riot grrls are allowed to be as bad as they want because they're largely cute and spunky and, well, girls. I mean, rock and roll has been a boy's club for years, and that should change, but our collective inability to put riot grrl bands under the same scrutiny we put any other band... I mean, isn't that kind of patronizing?"
The surrounding faces went near purple with rage. And yeah, I was only eighteen, but I knew how to take a hint. I left.
Approximately seven years to the day of my Womyn's Collective debacle, I find myself reviewing Le Tigre's second album, Feminist Sweepstakes, with some degree of trepidation. Seven years clears a lot of air. Of course, I'm less of a contrarian these days, and to be fair, some of those ex-riot grrls have made some really extraordinary music outside the confines of the movement they created. Kathleen Hanna among them.
Since the demise of Bikini Kill, Hanna has carved out some fairly innovative sounds, both with Le Tigre and alone as Julie Ruin. Using samples, drum loops, fuzzy guitars and synthesizers, Le Tigre has created an infectious mode for delivery of heavy-handed polemic, as evidenced by their self-titled debut. It was-- to quote Feminist Sweepstakes' "F.Y.R."-- "one cool record in the year of rock rap." And one of the best records I'd heard in a long time.
Feminist Sweepstakes doesn't deviate much from the first album's sound, despite the change in line-up; shortly after the release of Le Tigre's 1999 self-titled debut, JD Samson of the underground dance troupe Dykes Can Dance replaced video artist Sadie Benning. The model is basically the same: hip-hop and disco-informed dance tunes undercut with punk rock adrenaline levels and post-feminist diatribes. Only time out, it's more of a dance party. The opener, "LT Tour Theme," uses a spare 60s throwback dance sound and heavy metal guitar solo samples, over which Le Tigre sing, "For the ladies and the fags, yeah/ We're the band with the roller skate jams, yeah." And songs like "Fake French" and "Well Well Well" marry hip-hop and new wave, coming off something like more sophisticated takes on Blondie's "Rapture."
Though it would be premature to accuse Le Tigre of mellowing with age-- especially with the shouted tirade on "F.Y.R" indicating the contrary-- there are moments when the ranting subsides. "TGIF" closes with the refrain, "We got friends in sight/ Tomorrow we fight/ Let's have fun tonight." Likewise, the album's closer, "Keep On Livin'," turns empowerment catchphrases into anthemic, garage punk fun.
And there, with the vengeful faces of the Womyn's Collective burned into my brain, is where I levy my single complaint. Feminist Sweepstakes wants to be a terrifically fun album, yet with no deviation from the ceaseless politics and endless drum machine beats, things go stale. There are a growing number of female bands out there with the same basic premise as Le Tigre (most notably Chicks on Speed), making idiosyncratic dance pop for politically minded scenesters. Still, good as these things may seem, they rely too heavily on fad and can at times look a bit like novelty.
