Sleater-Kinney comes back with a vengeance on 'No Cities to Love'

Fans of the Riot Grrrl movement have been shaking with excitement since the announcement last October that Washington band Sleater-Kinney would be releasing a new album after its eight-year hiatus.

The feminist punk trio tore through the '90s and early 2000s with a slew of feisty, politically-charged anthems that left critics loopy with admiration. Not only did the members help garner respect for female rock musicians, but they also had opinions to share, social movements to herald and causes for which to fight. During an arguably whiny and unproductive era of music, Sleater-Kinney was determined to make a difference in the world.

After the dissolution of the group music critic Greil Marcus once declared “the best band in the world,” alternative rock was devoid of a strong, female-fronted activist band for years, as lethargic indie folk and ukulele-wielding singer-songwriters conquered the airwaves. More recently however, 2000-era bands have risen from the ashes of '90s girl punk -- bands like Perfect Pussy and Potty Mouth who are defying the odds of a male-dominated industry.

Thus, Sleater-Kinney’s reunion album could not have come at a more appropriate time in music history. “No Cities to Love,” released on Jan. 20, runs in the direction of modern alt-rock, embracing fuzzed-out stoner tones while throwing some irresistible melodies on top.

But that’s not to say that the album is some sort of tired imitation of what’s hot in the music scene right now. On the contrary, it is a powerful record full of snarling guitars and thunderous drums. Even on the first listen, it’s clear that there’s something special about Sleater-Kinney that its contemporaries have not yet rivaled. Perhaps it’s the bounding, relentless energy that bubbles beneath the surface of the record. Not once does it stop to catch its breath -- it's as if there’s an unexplained urgency in its message. It’s fresh and youthful, but without even a tinge of naiveté.

The opening track, “Price Tag,” starts off with a lone guitar riff, which is soon intensified by a driving drumbeat. It’s as if the verses are sung through gritted teeth, with vocalist Corin Tucker restraining herself as she sings about the mundane rituals of life keeping to the status quo. This self-control breaks in the refrains as Janet Weiss’ pounding drums crescendo.

Tucker gets to the point, expressing frustration with the capitalist, corporate system and struggling to stand above it. Her anger soars amidst a constant, grinding riff that occasionally gives way to a sloppy melee of dissonant notes and chords. This pattern in the music perfectly mirrors the narrative of the song; The singer tries to suppress her anger, but she becomes just too fed up to hold it together.

“Price Tag” sets a high standard for the rest of the album, but it’s only an introduction to Sleater-Kinney 2.0. The band deals out track after addictive track, never abandoning its punk rock roots, but showing tremendous growth nonetheless. Later, “A New Wave” is a highlight on the album with its messy, noise-rock guitars and catchy melodies. Tucker and guitarist Carrie Brownstein -- now of “Portlandia” (2011-present) fame --harmonize during the chorus, singing: “No one here is taking notice / No outline will ever hold us / It’s not a new wave, it’s just you and me.” Though the track is characteristically similar to the group's '90s work, it still sounds absurdly contemporary. Before the vocals come in, it could easily be mistaken for a Speedy Ortiz song, perhaps proving Sleater-Kinney’s influence on the new rock scene.

The next track, “No Anthems,” takes an abrupt turn from the poppy sensibilities of “A New Wave” and delves into a heavy, sludgy breakdown reminiscent of Kyuss. Throughout the song, the listener can hear Brownstein’s guitar crackle with distortion, a discordant fury that eventually builds into a blaring solo. It ends quite abruptly, however, giving way to the only weak song on the album, “Gimme Love.” While there’s nothing particularly offensive about the seesawing guitar lines and standard beat on this track, Tucker’s signature wail is simply too intolerable to sit through.

Fortunately, this loss of momentum is picked up in abundance in “Bury Our Friends,” the lead single from the album. It’s at once catchy and dynamic, with layered guitars and harmonized vocals. For the first time on the record, the band slows down with a brief, dreamy interlude. The song leaves little to be desired, except maybe more of it.

“No Cities to Love” is a testament to the musicians' progress as songwriters. Surely, the members’ side projects -- Weiss and Brownstein’s band Wild Flag and Tucker’s solo effort -- gave them plenty of experience in that regard. Often, when bands reunite after periods of inactivity, the spark dies out, resulting in a bland, jaded performance. But age has not worn down the women of Sleater-Kinney; if anything, it has made them bolder and more impassioned in their quest to change the world.