This Week: Sleater-Kinney and Springsteen look forward from Sept. 11, while Jawbreaker looks back
Sleater-Kinney
One Beat (Kill Rock Stars)
Sleater-Kinney has always been fiercely political, but until now they've pretty much stuck to the politics of gender and commerce. With One Beat, they've turned their rage and disgust on the politics of violence, whether it be terrorism or imperialism.
As angry rock 'n' roll it works exceptionally well, giving the band a new sense of purpose. With her fierce yowl, Corin Tucker pretty much declares that she wants the world on the opening track, and in the space of the three minutes and eight seconds it's pretty hard to deny her.
Much of the album is a reaction to the terrorist attack last September. On "Faraway," Tucker talks about nursing her daughter on the couch when she heard of the attacks: "And the president hides/ while working men rush in/ To give their lives/ I look to the sky/ And ask it not to rain/ On my family tonight."
The group is as tight and angry as they've ever been. Carrie Brownstein's cold, ironic vocals bounce beautifully off Tucker's passionate singing, particularly on "Combat Rock," an anthem for political dissent.
It's tough boiling down a complicated political and cultural clash in three-minute rock tunes, and thankfully the band doesn't try explaining Middle Eastern or American politics to us. Instead, they dwell on the confusion, anger and fear those politics produce. "There is no righteousness in your darkest moment," Corin sings on "Sympathy," an agnostic prayer in this time of religious zealotry.
"Step Aside" is as close as the band ever gets to a call for action, when they ask people to "shake a tail for peace and love." Remember, rock 'n' roll once terrified all the priests and politicians.
—Joe Tarr
Bruce Springsteen
The Rising (Columbia)
It's a great story, isn't it? A few weeks from the one-year anniversary of Sept. 11, America's blue-collar poet gets the band back together and releases an album of pain and healing, anger, and redemption. It immediately goes to number one, and a grateful nation is uplifted.
It's a great story, but life isn't that simple. And neither is art. The Rising works fine as a sincere gesture, a show of support from a guy who obviously feels the weight of his public's expectations. But how often do you really want to listen to a show of support?
The thing is, Sept. 11 doesn't really lend itself to anthems (as amply demonstrated by moronic butt-kicker Toby Keith). To his credit, Springsteen knows it. He circles the horror carefully, looking from different vantage points: the dead, the wounded, the widowed, the heroes, even the villains. Recurring images tie the album together: a missing lover, a cleansing rain, a menacing sky.
But these wounds are too raw for Springsteen to allow himself the kind of lacerating honesty that has marked his best songwriting (think of the desperate killers, losers, and loners of Nebraska and Darkness on the Edge of Town). His main goal here is reassurance—the album is full of exhortations to "rise up," to wait for "a sunny day," to "lay your hands in mine." There are exceptions: "Nothing Man" is a subtly devastating portrait of someone left behind; "Empty Sky" mingles sorrow and vengeance; and "Paradise" effectively traces a line of grief from a suicide bomber to one of his victims' widowers. Overall, though, The Rising feels like the product of duty more than passion. It's easier to admire the effort than the results.
—Jesse Fox Mayshark
Jawbreaker
Etc. (Blackball)
Well, it's been nearly two years since the buzz began: a new Jawbreaker album was coming out and fans everywhere rejoiced. Then they waited—for what seemed like an eternity. But Etc. is finally here, a compilation of 7-inches and some previously unreleased songs.
The three members of the now-defunct San Francisco band—vocalist/guitarist Blake Schwarzenbach, bassist Chris Bauermeister, and drummer Adam Pfahler—teamed up to put all of Jawbreaker's rare and coveted material in one place.
In its eight years, Jawbreaker managed to perfect the punk/emo sound that so many bands have tried and failed to emulate. Some, like Blink182, are so far from it they probably have no clue where their sound originated. It is Schwarzenbach's heartfelt vocals and captivating lyrics that made Jawbreaker fans out of many a jaded youth.
Only Schwarzenbach can growl lyrics like "I kissed the bottle/ I should've been kissing you/ you wake up to an empty night with tears for two," with such a scratchy intensity and convincing clarity. It takes someone used to deciphering Jawbreaker lyrics to suspect lines like "I lost all my thoughts of angels in an aspirin billboard/ walking down 16th Street, hit the cross street: Catatonia," from "Housesitter," are actually a set-up for a song about an unrequited crush. In Schwarzenbach's poetry, San Francisco's Mission District is both a microcosm of society and a place filled with personal memories.
This album is a huge comfort for fans who still lament the band's 1996 breakup. The "back to their roots" feel of Etc. is welcome indeed. It almost makes you want to cry.
—Veronica France
August 29, 2002 * Vol. 12, No. 35
© 2002 Metro Pulse
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