Grrrls to the front
When she walks, the revolution's comin', in her hips, there's revolution, when she talks, I hear the revolution, in her kiss, I taste the revolution
I have realised that I am literally a stereotype incarnate. Annoying. Angry. Blue haired. Feminist. And honestly I could care less.
I guess it’s no surprise that when I was 15 I was drawn to the riot grrrl movement like a moth is to a flame. Enchanted by the amount of rage and liberation I found in these albums my room quickly began to reflect this. I transformed my room from a boring box that closely resembled a seclusion room into a shrine for the heroines that were involved in the movement. Crowding my walls were inspiring female bands — lunachicks, sleater-kinney, bikini kill and many others. Obviously a change in room decor wasn’t enough to satiate me, and I found that the movement heavily influenced my fashion at the time.
I had declared that milkmaid dresses and heeled boots were in. Satin night dresses were no longer a delicacy reserved for bedtime but instead would follow me out into the wild. Draped across me 80% of the time was a huge leopard print fur coat that I begged my sister for in the hopes that I could look half as cool as Kat Bjelland did through my worshipful gaze. The other 20% of the time I opted for the basic grungey leather jacket.
I find that even now that I’ve moved to university I carry remnants of the obnoxiously kinderwhore riot-grrrl I displayed myself as. On my bedroom door, an old drawing: GRRRLS TO THE FRONT it reads, with an outline drawing of Kathleen Hanna in the corner. It was produced whilst listening to Bikini Kill’s album Pussy Whipped. Perhaps it served as a form of manifestation, because on June 12th 2024 I became the girl at the front, when I was lucky enough to see Bikini Kill perform live at the roundhouse and hear some of the masterpieces on that album in real life.
In true fan girl fashion, me and my grrrl Emi arrived at the venue a couple hours early ensuring we were near the front of the queue. As we sat and waited I couldn’t help but appreciate the diverse ranges of women turning up. It made me smile seeing everyone wearing their slip dresses, fur coats, and combat boots to join the party. I wondered about everyone else’s relationship with the riot grrrl movement, but also knew we all had the shared basis of feeling high levels of feminine rage that slaved away to empower us.
Once we entered the concert hall I felt as if I had suddenly reverted to that 15 year old girl drawing in her grungey bedroom palace. I was surrounded by people like myself who had found power in the movement. Feminists, dykes, whores. Riot grrrl had blossomed in the 90s but was still as strong and present and now we were in it. Every girl in the venue had been inspired, built and reshaped by this punk reckoning of feminism. It wasn’t just music but it was collective understanding between us. Female rebellion against the patriarchy will never die whilst it is still necessary.
Kathleen entered the stage with a confidence that radiated so strongly it felt more like a force. This was absorbed by every member of the crowd. Immediately everyone let out the loudest cheer possible and clambered with excitement. My legs were suddenly under autonomic control and I started jumping, squealing and holding Emis hand as if I was a little girl again. This is what we had all been waiting for. Bikini kill delivered the set with the same exhilarating energy that they had created in their teens.
Kathleen’s guttural screams paired with her playful melodies reminded us all of the power in our femininity. Lyrics written 30 years ago that should’ve been a relic were still painfully true. In double dare ya the band challenges the ‘anti-feminist’ women who ignore the oppression being faced by women all over the world. The lyrics call these women out and reminds us of our shared responsibility to fight not only for ourselves but for our sisters. Instead of screaming these lyrics alone in my room I was now screaming them in a concert hall with strong, passionate women who agreed.
You're a big girl now
You've got no reason not to fight
You've got to know what they are
'Fore you can stand up for your rights
Rights, rights?
You do have rights
Also performed that night was ‘dont need you’. Anyone who knows me knows I wear the misandrist title like a huge fucking badge. So unsurprisingly I was screaming these lyrics so loud it felt like I was tearing up my throat.
Don't need you to tell us were good
Don't need you to say we suck
Don't need your protection
Don't need your dick to fuck
Between songs, Kathleen took a breather to share little glimpses into their past. Stories about the band during the 90s, and a few sharp-witted jokes that reminded us just how cool she is. These moments felt intimate, like she had directly invited each of us to the stage for a private conversation. A highlight of the concert was definitely Kathleen shouting at a man who was pushing, she told him that ‘this music is for the girls’, get him again Kathleen!.
The concert left me feeling inspired and empowered. The performance was seething with the type of energy that makes you want to grab an instrument and go in a dingy basement with a couple of your mates and start a shitty band. That being said… who wants to start a band…!