Sleater-Kinney
Grief, like so many other human experiences, can be extremely personal to one individual and shared among many at the same time. Little Rope is the 11th studio album from beloved rock band Sleater-Kinney, and the second since the departure of drummer Janet Weiss in 2019 made the band a duo. Per usual, Carrie Brownstein and Corin Tucker share vocal and guitar duties throughout the record. Though they’re not grieving the same things or expressing it the same way all the time, a sense of loss drives the interplay between the pair’s singing and playing.
As usual, each member sings lead on the songs she wrote. Brownstein’s songs — “Hunt You Down” and “Needlessly Wild” in particular — are full of anger and raw pain. Early in the writing process, Brownstein’s mother died, and at her request Little Rope is heavy on Tucker songs. But whether Brownstein’s contribution to a given track is vocal or instrumental, her power and passion are just as vital. Meanwhile, Tucker’s songs convey the weariness of a weight long carried, tinged with universal rage. “Hell” opens the album with a haunting meditation on suffering and unrest, with contemplative verses punctuated by wailing, high-energy choruses. The song’s message was inspired by one of many recent tragic mass shootings.
“The thing that I try to do with writing is that I want it to be broad enough to catch a lot of other people’s experiences, so I tried to make it broad,” Tucker tells the Scene. “Specifically that song, it was after Uvalde, after the shooting there. We’re just living in, experiencing that, and hearing the details of that. … It’s unbearable, and we live in this giant country that has these deep, systemic problems. But because of the way that we’re connected now — through social media and through news and through our phones — it’s like we’re so close to the worst things happening and there’s no filter for it. It’s really hard to be connected to those things, and to not feel like we’re able to make changes.”
Little Rope isn’t meant to be a focused political statement, but sociopolitical issues are inherent to the band’s ethos. These themes bubble up directly on “Crusader,” which reflects on the impact of fighting for change. “Forever rings a life lived out loud,” goes one defiant verse, and that’s exactly what Sleater-Kinney has done. The impact of their work over the past three decades as thoughtful, outspoken women who happen to make thunderous rock ’n’ roll ripples out beyond the music industry.
“The upside of being around for 30 years is that … we are able to see change and broader tolerance, especially for the LGBTQ+ community,” says Tucker. “That’s a really good change. And we see more and more of those people at our shows, just completely 100 percent being themselves. That’s great because that felt very tentative when we first started the band. … We’re still struggling with people’s rights in this country, but there are a lot more people who are part of the movement now.”
Though decades have passed and the world has changed, Tucker says she and Brownstein still find themselves turning to music for the same things they did when they were just starting out.
“Music was the first therapy, probably, for both of us,” she says. “We started the band when we were like 20 years old, so it’s still a core part of how we feel like we can relate to the world. And yeah, I think it’s still really important. But there is that feeling of discomfort that also drives us to write. That’s where we can put those kind of feelings. I think that’s part of starting a band with someone, is that you are in a relationship and you are collaborating. [Among other things], hopefully it is a shoulder to lean on when you’re struggling.”
Even with all the serious subject matter in orbit, Sleater-Kinney hasn’t forgotten about the importance of playfulness. “Small Finds,” which gave the album its title, looks at finding joy in the mundane. It’s also a character study from a singular perspective: Tucker’s rescue dog, Champ.
“The great thing about writing is being in someone else’s shoes, and changing the voice a little bit with each song. … We are writing these songs that are very heavy, and take ourselves very seriously. And then I was like, ‘What if I didn’t do that? What if I was a dog, and all I thought was, like: Poop, garbage, garbage-garbage-garbage. … Garbage is the best, most amazing thing.’ And it felt so free, that moment of letting go of all this stuff — it’s so heavy. I was like, ‘Oh, the whole song has to be garbage, garbage, garbage sniffing.’ … Although we are these human beings that have higher reasoning and all of that, we are still core animals. And we forget that small kindness to each other and those kinds of respect that could make our lives so much better. The song asks for that, in a way.”
