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The Spotlight On the Sun, it Shines On
Aug. 24th, 2006 01:58 amOkay, yeah, so that Sleater-Kinney concert. It was something else.
The show was loaded with enough emotional freight that I don't really trust myself to talk about it as music—too much going on in there. But regardless, and into the breach as always: they really did manage to play as though they'd never do another show. They were gigantic and mighty and vulnerable and sad and joyful and proud and they strode that stage like it was the end of the goddamn world.
The place I was standing was pretty crappy, and I couldn't really work my way to a better spot, but I saw enough. Well, not enough of Janet, but a fair amount of Carrie and Corin. They looked good. Hell, they looked great. And they looked... ready to be done. After seeing them like that—wearing their voices down and slashing at their guitars with the abandon of people who know they don't need to save anything for tomorrow—I think I'm finally done being sad about the end of Sleater-Kinney. I think they managed to explain to us why it was over, give us some glimmer of understanding. Or at least they made it real for me in a way that it hadn't been before. I don't know.
So, I'm grateful. I was lucky to have gotten into them when I did. I was lucky to have seen them live twice, and I was extremely lucky to have seen this last show; to be given that chance to put it all in perspective, to see the end of something beautiful and amazing. (A lot of that comes down to being lucky enough to have an incomparable mom, who managed to score us an improbable wad of tickets.*)
And that—seven fantastic albums, a near-legendary live career, and probably a live CD/DVD from these last two shows**—is the end of Sleater-Kinney. For now, and maybe forever—who knows. In the meantime, raise a glass, and mark the passing of the best rock band ever to come out of my hometown.
(For the record: I STILL want to punch my younger self in the head for not seeing them at the Metropolis back in high school. Dammit.)
_____
* At the Fred Meyer on Sleater Kinney Road, amusingly.
** They had those "this is being recorded" signs up.
The show was loaded with enough emotional freight that I don't really trust myself to talk about it as music—too much going on in there. But regardless, and into the breach as always: they really did manage to play as though they'd never do another show. They were gigantic and mighty and vulnerable and sad and joyful and proud and they strode that stage like it was the end of the goddamn world.
The place I was standing was pretty crappy, and I couldn't really work my way to a better spot, but I saw enough. Well, not enough of Janet, but a fair amount of Carrie and Corin. They looked good. Hell, they looked great. And they looked... ready to be done. After seeing them like that—wearing their voices down and slashing at their guitars with the abandon of people who know they don't need to save anything for tomorrow—I think I'm finally done being sad about the end of Sleater-Kinney. I think they managed to explain to us why it was over, give us some glimmer of understanding. Or at least they made it real for me in a way that it hadn't been before. I don't know.
So, I'm grateful. I was lucky to have gotten into them when I did. I was lucky to have seen them live twice, and I was extremely lucky to have seen this last show; to be given that chance to put it all in perspective, to see the end of something beautiful and amazing. (A lot of that comes down to being lucky enough to have an incomparable mom, who managed to score us an improbable wad of tickets.*)
And that—seven fantastic albums, a near-legendary live career, and probably a live CD/DVD from these last two shows**—is the end of Sleater-Kinney. For now, and maybe forever—who knows. In the meantime, raise a glass, and mark the passing of the best rock band ever to come out of my hometown.
(For the record: I STILL want to punch my younger self in the head for not seeing them at the Metropolis back in high school. Dammit.)
_____
* At the Fred Meyer on Sleater Kinney Road, amusingly.
** They had those "this is being recorded" signs up.
