Albums by this artist

The Woods (2005)

One Beat (2002)

All Hands On The Bad One (2000)

Concerts

May 12, 2000
The Metro, Chicago

Sleater-Kinney

One Beat

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» WILL CRAVEN | STAFF WRITER

Sleater-Kinney One Beat Kill Rock Stars, 2002 RiYL: Fugazi, Patti Smith

Since 9/11 so few groups have crafted any kind of response to that event that one is tempted to think that the ever-cool and escapist forces of irony have won out, and muzzled rock'n'roll from expressing its passions. Sleater-Kinney's One Beat is less of a protest album than a visceral reaction to one of the most visceral, communally witnessed events of this media age. The title track and track two “Faraway” seem to have sprung fully formed from the impact of airplanes hitting buildings. And lest anyone forgets, that’s what rock is supposed to sound like.

Janet Weiss is a thrillingly athletic drummer of the ever-evolving John Bonham-Dave Grohl lineage, and on One Beat she creates the kind of grounded cacophony that enables the songwriters to flesh out the hidden complexities of punk rock. “One Beat,” “Light Rail Coyote,” and “Hollywood Ending” rock incredibly hard, and Weiss’ drumming is the rhythmic boil that brings Corin Tucker and Carrie Brownstein to screaming visions: “I’m a bubble in a sound wave/ A sonic push for energy/ Exploding like the sun/ A flash of clean white hope/ All you scientists can hold your breath/ shall I decide to show myself?”

The great power trios have always used the unbalance of their number to their advantage, and Brownstein and Tucker’s overlapping vocals, one rapidly spit and the other throat- sung in a tempest, unhinge the songs in a bracing manner. At its best moments, the ground opens up between all the guitars, all the voices, and the multitudinous beats emanating from these three women, and one can’t imagine that Cream was half as good in 1968.

After a number of great exorcisms, the album closes with the bluesy “Sympathy:” “I know I come to you only when in need/ I’m not the best believer/ not the most deserving/ but all I have all I am all I can/ For him.” It’s a confession and plea so uncool that one can only believe in what she believes in, and what much rock, indie or otherwise, has ignored: catharsis, and things larger than ourselves.

WILL CRAVEN |