Sleater-Kinney | Critic's Choice | Chicago Reader

Sleater-Kinney 

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SLEATER-KINNEY

No one's going out of his way to find out what ordinary white girls from the middle of nowhere are thinking. Not that they're waiting around to be asked, especially in Olympia, Washington, where punk rock has been pulling feminism's pigtails the past few years in a scruffy, adolescent mass ritual called riot grrrl. Corin Tucker, formerly of Heavens to Betsy, is the movement's most talented graduate. Her current band is Sleater-Kinney, and its breathtaking new album, Call the Doctor, calls everything into question. The pitfalls of ownership, the dull drag of insomnia, and the entrapments of everyday romance are transformed by the obstinate glamour of Tucker's voice into a hot and bothered escape hatch of pure pop thrill. In "I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone" she wails, "I swear they're looking right at me." Maybe that's because they're looking for an answer. And later in the song she gives that too: "Throw away those old records...give me a chance." Tuesday, 8 PM, Fireside Bowl, 2646 W. Fullerton; 486-2700. Wednesday, 10 PM, Metro, 3730 N. Clark; 549-0203.

Sarah Vowell

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