OLYMPIA, WA (1991) “Kathleen Hanna”

She sounded calm. In control. Like she knew exactly what she was doing.

EVERGREEN STATE COLLEGE

I was driving up to the Olympic Peninsula a couple years ago and took the opportunity to swing by Evergreen State College in Olympia. 

How many interesting, creative and world famous people have come out of this place in recent years?  Matt Groening, Lynda Barry, Charles Burnes.  And more musicians and music people than you could name.  And I’d never actually seen it.

Unfortunately, because of Covid, there was literally nobody at Evergreen that day. One security guard was all I saw.  He was busy on his phone and didn’t see me walk by his truck and onto the campus. 

*

I did a DIY tour, cupping my hands around my face to stare through the windows, walking the paths and access roads that connected its various dorms and classrooms.

There wasn’t much to see.  The cement block campus didn’t seem particular inspiring in any way. It was fun though, imagining all these young people from this low-key “alternative” college, not having any idea where their modest dreams would lead them . . . . 

RIOT GRRRL

I remember exactly where I was sitting when I first saw the term “Riot Grrrl”.   It was 1991, I was in the coffee shop of Powell’s Books in Portland.  I was taking a break from my final read-throughs of my book GIRL before I started sending it out to agents and editors. 

I’d been working on this book for a year, every day, 4 to 6 hours a day.  It was the best thing I’d written. By a mile. It was my bildungsroman: a portrait of my hometown and the local music scene that had been so important to me growing up.

Then, while sipping a coffee, I picked up a local publication—maybe the Willamette Week or the Seattle Stranger—and began reading an interview with a band called Bikini Kill.  One of the female band members was answering the questions.   

Though it was a print publication, it was like I could hear her voice. She sounded so confident and composed.  Not like a typical local-band musician.  She was so sure of herself. 

It was quickly revealed that she was a hard-line feminist, though her answers didn’t seem particularly angry or hysterical.  She sounded calm.  In control. Like she knew exactly what she was doing.

Reading this interview, I could feel the power of this young woman’s personality.  It sent a shiver down my spine.

The musical vision she described was unusual.  Bikini Kill wasn’t just a band.  It was part of “Riot Grrrl”, which was a movement that fused feminist activism and punk rock aesthetics.

*

I had a moment of panic when I finished the article.  My book GIRL was about two high school girls, one of whom is a lesbian and the singer in a local band. The other, the narrator, falls in love with a charismatic (guy) musician.

Much of my book, described the same romantic and sexual music-scene dramas this Riot Grrrl person was talking about.  And rebelling against.

If Bikini Kill and the Riot Grrrl movement were about to change that landscape, or critique it, or overthrow it, my book might become instantly out of date.  Or might be seen as reactionary! Riot Grrrl was going to make my book appear too sexually traditional and old fashioned.

I had a moment of panic.  Maybe I should change my book.   Maybe I should change the title from GIRL to GRRRL.  I literally thought that.  That’s how convincing this band interview was.  Bikini Kill seemed capable of changing the world.  Which could mean disaster for me. 

*

BIKINI KILL: Billy Karren (guitar), Kathleen Hanna (vocals), Tobi Vail (drums)

*

BIKINI KILL

I eventually came to my senses.  Books were books.  They were always years behind more immediate mediums, like music.  My book would still work.  The story would still be relevant.

Once I’d calmed down, I wanted to know more about this band and this Riot Grrrl thing.  And who thought up the name “Bikini Kill”?  Which was literally the coolest name ever.  And which band member spoke in that interview?  She was incredible.

*

This being the pre-computer days, I couldn’t just google Bikini Kill and hear all their music and read all their interviews in two hours.  There was no info on them anywhere.  Nobody in Portland had heard of them yet, at least nobody that I knew (I was 30).

I finally ran into a friend who worked sound for different clubs and bands in Portland.  He had seen them.  I was so excited.  What were they like?  What was their sound?  I told him about the amazing interview I had read.  Were they playing anywhere I could see them?

He said:  You don’t want to see them. 

I was like:   Of course I do.  They sound so smart.  And so cool. 

He said:  No, you don’t. 

He described the show he saw.  The violence.  The yelling.  The terrible vibes.  The singer of Bikini Kill was going off on these dudes.  And the dudes were literally about to kill her.  People were throwing things.  There were fights.  It was one of the ugliest shows he’d ever seen.  It made him embarrassed to be a man.  But also, the band had provoked it.  They hated men.  Confrontation was what they wanted.