Gee Bill, I don’t know what nerve I triggered but I think the hostility of your last response is unwarranted. I think you’ve mistaken strong opinions and sharp rhetoric for ill will–since you’ve now explained to me that you’re a “radical feminist,” I’m sure it couldn’t be a typically bullying response to a girl who talks back. I’ve been more than generous in allowing that our different perspectives on history may be shaped by our gendered experiences: I don’t think I’ve said that makes one of us more right–that yours is “bad history”–I’ve just said that’s why there’s a need for both of us out there in the world doing the work we do. Critics may not affect sales much, but they do write history books–or online forums–that displace women from their rightful place in rock. And it’s only there that the Rolling Stones could eclipse Aretha, and Kurt Cobain (one good album, a couple good singles) eclipse Chrissie Hynde. I would say on classic rock radio stations too, but I just spent 24 hours listening to FM from Michigan to New York, and I heard the Stones and Dylan not a whit, but the Pretenders twice and Aretha once. (The Beatles twice, Zeppelin once, Nirvana once, New Radicals a half-dozen times.) I know that’s anecdotal not scientific, but it reflects the dedication on “Midnight Radio,” from Hedwig and the Angry Inch, written by Stephen Trask: “Here’s to Patti, and Tina, and Yoko, Aretha, and Nona, and Nico.” Some guys do get it.
Actually Bill, I’ve found through my own misplaced trusts that my biggest enemies in life can be male rock critics who think they’re god’s gift to women. I didn’t know I was responsible for changing the world; I thought I was just fighting the battles in front of me.
I never said you couldn’t identify with a black woman–I was referring to prior canonization–but I don’t know how else to explain not believing that Aretha Franklin is as important a musician and star as Mick Jagger. I’m not from Bed-Stuy (nor is the Queen of Soul), but at least I know that Aretha did write or co-write some of her own material–unlike Elvis Presley, who I guess, like Madonna, couldn’t have been a rock star.
If you read my last letter a little more carefully, you’ll notice that I said I almost don’t want you to get it, and that I feared this was a selfish response, but it was an honest, emotional one, and especially in a forum like this, I think it’s important to write from your gut as well as your head. That may be “fanzine-y” of me, but maybe that’s why so much fanzine writing is better than so much rock criticism. Since I’ve found that I frequently am not starting from the same page as my supposed peers (see previous graf), I don’t care if I seem more allied with the artist than with them. Sometimes allegiances of gender are more important than collegial ones–that will probably drive you crazy, Bill, but the point is not to be exclusionary of you, but to be inclusionary of what I need most. I am not disrespecting or disregarding the audience; I am, I would hope, part of the audience (as are you). You may notice I was critical of The Hot Rock; I would rather warn fans they may be disappointed than kiss Sleater-Kinney’s butts.
As a person who has in the past written about them for both RollingStone and the NewYork Times, I have scarcely been keeping Sleater-Kinney secret. Yesterday I explicitly critiqued The Hot Rock for being too indie-rock narrow in its production. I wish they’d gotten Missy Elliott to produce it, and would then have a chance for those MTV, RollingStone, etc. spots–and I know it’s a pipe dream, but if I can’t have my gut reactions, can I at least have my dreams? I’m so bored with indie rock I can’t even get it up to debate it. Not that I’m second-guessing S-K’s decision to stay on Kill Rock Stars; I’m a critic, not their manager. After all, if they had signed to Geffen or A&M, we may not even have a record to be pissing each other off over. But my reaction would be the opposite of that record store clerk’s: If they had signed to Matador, I’d be disappointed that they were thinking so small, instead of so big.
I think you missed my point, and it is a controversial one, I admit. But I do believe when you’re an oppressed/excluded/disempowered/you-know-what-I-mean group, you need spaces in which to communicate with other members free of the stifling influence of the group that would keep you, um, under its thumb. I think these are temporary, strategic spaces, not end-goals; I’m not a separatist. But sometimes I need to hang out with my girlfriends, and I don’t mean in the kitchen doing dishes after a party. And then, having gathered reassurance and strength, we come back and tell the guys what we’re going through, what we need, and how we’re all going to get there together. What startled me about some of the songs on The Hot Rock was that they so captured the spirit of those between-girl chats, I wasn’t prepared to take it back to a guy yet. But ultimately, I think it’s an incredibly powerful move on S-K’s part, and if you get it too, Bill, all the better. They let me know that my friends and I are not alone in thrashing out these concerns–how to love without being tricked by romance, how to be independent without being cold–and they do it such a hot rock way, it makes me feel like we’re negotiating from positions of strength, not weakness.
