Thursday, July 1, 2010

"I Can't, I Can't, I Can't Cum!"

Why do I love the sound of angry women so much? You would think I'd have had enough of all of their shouting by now. Between my six sisters, my mom, and all of the grrls who were damaged enough to deign me suitable boyfriend material, I've heard enough raised female voices to fill a whole hard drive. Why then am I such a sucker for the female vocalist in abrasive music? Possibly it is the juxtaposition of the typically 'male' traits of violence and anger in the lyrics and attitudes of these wholly feminine creatures. It could be that I've just grown accustomed to the sound. Has it become a need? Maybe I'm such a dick because I want to hear the cracking of a petulant woman's voice as she struggles to tattoo her message into my thick skull with her screams. Who knows? I don't, but thus is my burden. Regardless, here's my favorite Bikini Kill release. I don't think I need to give any of you a lesson on the bands history or importance. Washington state, Kill Rock Stars, Riot Grrrl movement, etc. All of that is well documented, and I don't mean to slight the significance of it, but... Well, but, I will. It's all well and great and life-changing if you are a teenage grrl. I don't know if I get many of those around the 'Wave. Even if I do, I'm hardly an authority on the subject. The important thing here is that you give "Pussy Whipped" a listen for it's sheer, punk-simple, unadulterated ugliness. It's been a favorite of mine since '95, and I hope you can dig it, too. Emasculation is such a nice word, don't ya think?