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Bikini Kill & The Feminine Revolution


Hello! As per last week’s blog post (you can find it here), I’m going to be discussing Bikini Kill’s debut album, Revolution Girl Style Now!, and intimately dissecting it track by track. If you gave it a first-time listen, it might be a bit overwhelming. I’m going to add a content warning here; do not read ahead if you are sensitive to mentions of physical and sexual abuse, incest, and/or pedophilia. And as always, welcome to Hysteria.


[the Revolution Girl Style Now! album cover, taken from bandcamp]
[the Revolution Girl Style Now! album cover, taken from bandcamp]

“We’re Bikini Kill, and we want revolution: girl-style, now!”

-Bikini Kill, ‘Double Dare Ya


You can call Bikini Kill whatever you want, and you will probably be right about it. Raucous? Yes. Vulgar? Absolutely. But you cannot begin to dispute the authenticity and explicit outrage these women have packed into their first demo tape. One demo tape that discusses everything from domestic abuse and sexual assault, and even more laid-back topics, such as in the song Carnival. It is crucial to recognize, before diving into this album, that this record features essential tracks from the riot grrrl genre and its overall message, even though the band may not fully resonate with that message. In a brief 2012 interview surrounding the origins of their debut with Jessica Jordan-Wrench (which I have linked below), drummer Tobi Vail states, “We wanted to make it clear that we were not the leaders of [riot grrrl] or the spokespeople … we were not comfortable with that role.” Though these tracks are pivotal to the genre and subculture, the band would rather describe their message as a sort of  ‘cultural activism’ since, as bassist Kathi Wilcox states, “We were really young and we were really angry about a lot of things,” which I’m sure many of us can relate to in the present day. Basically, it’s integral to understand the nuance of a lot of these tracks and, similarly, the context surrounding them. 

Let’s take it track by track and jump in now.


—> Candy


Candy is, essentially, the resistance that feminist rockers were known for in the 90s. It challenges traditional power dynamics, plays on sexual tropes, and is one of the most anthem-y tracks on the album. With lyrics like “Don't try and fight me / 'Cause I'll surround you” and “Just try and shut my little tiny mouth now”, it’s easy to see why so many women saw Bikini Kill for the fearless powerhouse they were. They weren’t entirely obvious, though. Hannah parrots, sarcastically, “I really like it, baby / I want to be your candy,” which deliberately clashes with their “stick-it-to-them” attitude. Couple those kick-ass lyrics with heavy distortion, an overly melodramatic tone, and a girl with an evident passion for what she’s singing, and you’ve got a great start to Revolution Girl Style Now!.


—> Daddy’s L’il Girl


The track Daddy’s L’il Girl preaches an essential message found on this record. The lyrics feature ideas of objectification and manipulation, and certainly make the listener uncomfortable, prompting cringes upon hearing them. The narrative goes along with a man who plays the role of an abuser, who dangles necessities (“Food / Shelter / Love”) over the victim’s head in an effort to keep them quiet. This track certainly feels like a ‘bad ending’, or a precursor to a victim reclaiming their own autonomy.



—> Feels Blind


Rather than coming in hot like most of the songs on this album do, Feels Blind ramps up from a steady bassline into a punchy chorus. The verses may seem like a string of non-sequitur lines, but when read through a feminist lens, we can gather that this song is questioning the forced helplessness and renunciation of their own power that women are taught at a young age. “As a woman, I was taught to always be hungry / Yeah, women are well acquainted with thirst / And we could eat just about anything / We might even eat your hate up like love.” Reclamation of your own power/sexuality/voice is a common theme in female grunge. Similarly, the chorus (“How does it feel? Well, it feels blind / What have you taught me? Nothing / Look at what you have taught me, your world has taught me nothing.”) reads to me as disputing the precious ‘damsel-in-distress’ attitude. While it isn’t as apparent as some of their other songs, Feels Blind perfectly conveys the notion of being fed up, confused, and exhausted.


—> Suck My Left One


If you haven’t listened to the album yet, I’m sure you can gather the meaning of this song (see title). It’s crass, honest, and goes completely against paternal authority. It introduces sapphic content to the album that Bikini Kill is known for, such as "Why are all the boys acting strange? / We've got to show them we're worse than queer,” which appears in other songs. It conveys anti-rape sentiments and sympathizes with survivors of sexual assault (“Daddy comes into her room at night / He's got more than talking on his mind”) while also offering them to seek comfort and solace in their music (“My sister pulls the covers down / She reaches over, flicks on the light, she says to him / ‘Suck my left one’ ”). Continuing with the anti-paternal values, the song ends with “Mama says, ‘You've got to be polite, girl / You've got to be polite, girl / Show a little respect for your father / Wait until your father gets home,’ in which the mother character portrays the helplessness rebuked in their previous song, Feels Blind. The mother character in this song is fascinating to me; she seems to represent the culmination of an Electra complex. Although we only get a couple of dialogue lines from her, in them, she is entirely obedient to patriarchal instruction and wishes to push the same narrative onto her daughter. It gives us a closer glimpse into the ‘riot-grrrl-world’ where women who are compliant to the mission of men (as the mother is) exist solely in an ether where defiance is prohibited. Still, in the same way, they can not personally benefit from becoming an ‘ally’ to men, simply because they are considered lesser than—indeed, a fantastic song on this album.


—> Carnival


This is a song about the seedy underbelly of the carnival / The part that only the kids know about” 

I don’t think I would be wrong if I were to say this is just a fun song about going to the carnival as a teenager. It’s one of the most popular Bikini Kill songs, and unfortunately, the least political one of them all. It includes a quick nod to Lacey, Washington, at the end—it’s widely known that Washington is the birthplace of all kinds of rock, from Kurt Cobain to Sleater-Kinney (whom I will undoubtedly make a blog post on one day).


—> This Is Not A Test


This Is Not A Test encapsulates the feminist need to resist succumbing to trivial insecurities pushed onto you as a woman (“I'm fat, I can't sleep / There's someone following me, yeah”). It fosters a back-and-forth rhythm, presumably between a patriarchal figure and a woman: he says, “You're dumb,” Bikini Kill says, “I'm not.” It’s a form of resistance against both your inner and external doubts. Because, as she states, “When it gets right down to the heart of the matter / When it gets right down to the bottom of it all,” this is not a test; this is real life, and the feminist activism preached in this album is applicable every single day.


—> Double Dare Ya


If Candy wasn’t the feminist anthem you hoped for, I hope you’re ready for Double Dare Ya. As evident by the lyrics I included after the intro, this song may be the most enraged, unapologetically unifying, and undoubtedly politically charged song on this album. As you might have gathered from the title, this song is a love letter, or rather, a double dare for women to embrace a repressed emotional nature (“Dare ya to do what you want / Dare ya to be who you will / Dare ya to cry right out loud”). This song continues to follow the sarcastic anti-paternal view we discussed in earlier songs: “Don't you talk out of line / Don't go speaking out of your turn / Gotta listen to what the man says / Time to make his stomach burn, burn, burn.” This song concludes with a fiery plea for action to women everywhere, and these lyrics still give me chills when I hear them today.


“You're a big girl now

You've got no reason not to fight

You've got to know what they are

‘Fore you can stand up for your rights

Rights, rights? You do have rights!”


Double Dare Ya certainly feels like a liberation in and of itself—a call to revolution, a call to riot. One problem I tend to see in late 90s riot grrrl bands is a lack of mission, message, and sentiment. However, there is nothing but clarity present here. As in the song Feels Blind, this is a renunciation of ignorance and obedience to the Man. If you were to listen to only one song on this album, make it this one—it embodies the passion and intensity for which girl rock is known.


—> Liar


I believe that many of the songs on this album remain relevant today. Liar is a song that, I think, is important now more than ever. It follows the narrative of a man who lies—and we’ve obviously seen this trope before. A man who can “profit from the lie,” or in other words, reaps the rewards without taking accountability for his lies. “Profiting” off of a lie doesn’t necessarily mean he may gain any monetary wealth (though it can be), but that he is simply evading blame. We get these visceral images that make us uncomfortable: “Eat meat / Hate blacks / Beat your f*ckin' wife / It's all the same thing,” which forces us to come to terms with the fact that people who participate in this hateful behavior ultimately lie to themselves without showing any semblance of empathy or remorse. It acts as a great support to other, more outwardly feminist tracks on this record.


—> Ocean Song


There is a type of song that the riot grrrls create, which I like to call ‘in-between’ songs. Not entirely preachy about feminist themes, but not totally distanced from the movement itself. This is one of those songs. Kathleen Hannah has stated that Ocean Song was inspired by her time volunteering at a sexual violence organization (“Can't hear the words you say down here / About all the ways us girls can die”). It couples the melodramatic, ethereal lyrics (“Then all my words would become like gold / The angels you've created, they would swarm towards my grave”) with a dreamy, grungy instrumental track. The meditative nature of this song provides a well-needed respite from the intensity of some of its former tracks. I imagine the lyrics “You cover your ears, don't wanna hear me scream” hold exceptional weight for Hannah and other early female musicians.


—> Just Once


A short but powerful blip on the album, Just Once flips the typical obedient good-girl trope on its head. It continues the sarcastic remarks made by the band in earlier songs, such as Candy and Feels Blind. Another trope I see this song mock, along with many other girl bands, is the “make it quick” mentality. The lyrics “Do it from the inside / Do it from without” are very reminiscent of this mentality. Overall, a short but sweet song.


—> Playground 


Playground has an impressive level of artistry that perfectly sums up Revolution Girl Style Now!. Although a short song, it does what every infectious Bikini Kill song does: flips traditional gender roles upon their heads, mocks the infantile nature of those who don’t think for themselves, and marks the return of that great sapphic tone we admired in Suck My Left One. I can’t help but mention the ‘us vs. them’ mentality: “We know the boys wrecked our playground / We built a fort, then they came out and smashed it.” It is crucial to note the juvenile and youthful tone Bikini Kill adopts in some of their songs (see title). This more playful allegory, when being used in sexist contexts, can give their argument more gravity—explaining where the patriarchal and misogynistic norms originated, which seems to invalidate them wildly. To put it plainly, sexism seems like much less of an issue when reduced down to children (girls shouldn’t play with ‘boy’ toys, etc.), but it can spiral out of control when fully realized.


That concludes our full lyrical (and slightly musical) breakdown of Revolution Girl Style Now!, one of the most crucial and staple albums of the 1990s punk feminist movement. I hope you gained some insight into how activism can be expressed in various forms. This isn’t the last you’ll be seeing of me, either—I’ll have a new post next Tuesday about the band Bratmobile on the UIC Radio website at 12pm sharp.


See you all soon!

Mila



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