SLEATER-KINNEY with DEAD MEADOW at the Phoenix, June 18. Tickets: $20. Attendance: 900. Rating: NNNN Rating: NNNN
Dear Janet Weiss:
This is totally out of character for me, but after being hypnotized by the sight of your crazy-ass pipes pounding the kit while your black Bettie Page bangs whipped around like a tornado, I can't help myself.
The awesome, muscular precision with which you pummelled the drums at the Sleater-Kinney show last Saturday at the Phoenix confirms my long-held suspicion that you are indeed the power behind their power trio, and I have one thing to ask: will you be the mother of my children?
Oh, Janet, were you as freakin' bored as I was during Dead Meadow's opening set? God, I was totally falling asleep during their droning psych-rock jam - it was almost as weak as their emphysemic smoke machine.
I wanted you to appear in a puff of dry ice and show them what a rhythm section with real balls sounds like.
When the stage got all dark, and the sounds of twittering birds started (I bet it was your idea to play on the title of The Woods with woodland creatures), I got nervous that the show would be, like, all wimpy conceptual percussion and no Weissian wallop.
But then you appeared with the other two ladies, looking butch and tough, and everyone was shouting, and you started beating out the lurching caveman stomp of The Fox, and my heart beat right along with you.
All y'all were having way more fun onstage than you have in years. The last couple times I saw you guys, Carrie [ Brownstein ] looked like she wanted to spit nails and Corin [ Tucker ] looked miserable. You, on the other hand, used to have this bored, blasé thing going on in back.
This time, though, you were totally into the music. I could tell by the way you were headbanging along to Carrie's Jimmy Page solos during the Let's Call It Love extenda-jam so hard it seemed like your head was gonna fly off. And the way you gleefully plonked the cowbell during Rollercoaster made me feel all funny in my naughty bits.
I bet you would've kicked the ass of the lunatic muscle-bound bartender who, after refusing me water, nearly brutalized some poor guy who was taking a shortcut back into the all-ages area. Dude, chill out, OK?
That three-part girl-group take on Richard and Linda Thompson's I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight made up for it, though.
I know you used to be the only member of the S-K team who batted straight, but since rumour has it the other two have crossed over now, maybe you'd consider switch-hitting for me?
Dammit, Janet... I love you.