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Sleater-Kinney: Punkers reunited, with many more eyes and ears to entertain

Way back in 1996, on their second album, Call the Doctor, Corin Tucker and Carrie Brownstein of Sleater-Kinney traded vocals on a song called "I Want to Be Your Joey Ramone."

Sleater-Kinney Oct. 1996. L-R: Corin Tucker, Carrie Brownstein, Janet Weiss. PHOTO CREDIT: STORM THARP.
Sleater-Kinney Oct. 1996. L-R: Corin Tucker, Carrie Brownstein, Janet Weiss. PHOTO CREDIT: STORM THARP.Read more

Way back in 1996, on their second album, Call the Doctor, Corin Tucker and Carrie Brownstein of Sleater-Kinney traded vocals on a song called "I Want to Be Your Joey Ramone."

Brownstein took the first verse, talk-singing over the band's distinctive guitar tangle in rhymes about how pop music and personal identity merge: "It's on my wall, it's in my head/ Memorize it till I'm dead."

Then Tucker and her fire-alarm voice took over on the chorus, shouting out the young band's intention to occupy a cherished place in the hearts of fans equal to that of their own heroes: "I want to be your Joey Ramone, pictures of me on your bedroom door," Tucker sang. "Invite you back after the show/ I'm the Queen of Rock-and-Roll!"

That declaration of ambition is one of the things that set apart Sleater-Kinney - whose first album in nine years, No Cities to Love (Sub Pop nolead begins ***1/2 nolead ends ), comes out Tuesday - from its peers in a DIY punk world full of skinny dudes who stared at the floor as they played, as if embarrassed by the very idea of rocking out.

By contrast, Sleater-Kinney - which kicks off a U.S. tour next month that comes Feb. 28 to a sold-out Union Transfer in Philadelphia - was three supremely confident women. They emerged from the Evergreen College music scene in Olympia, Wash., the same one that spawned riot-grrrl inventors Bikini Kill, feminist record label Kill Rock Stars, and, more recently, Macklemore.

Then, as now, Sleater-Kinney musicians were never reticent or apologetic about anything. That was once again made clear in October when the band - which, crucially, also includes powerhouse drummer Janet Weiss - surprised and delighted fans by announcing its reunion. The single "Bury Our Friends" rides a brash, martial rhythm and asserts a determination to remain uncompromising ("Make me a headline, I want to be that bold"), even as the album displays a more accomplished pop sensibility: "We're wild and weary, but we won't give in."

Sleater-Kinney was surely America's greatest punk band for the seven albums of its first existence, with a no-bass-player musical arsenal that included Tucker's caterwauling, clarion-call voice, Weiss' muscular attack, and Brownstein's inventive collection of riffs, plus windmilling Pete Townshend stage moves. Though 2005's The Woods contained probably the band's prettiest ballad, the glistening "Modern Girl," its sound had by then started to grow heavy and clotted, too Led Zeppy for its own good. A year later, they went on indefinite hiatus.

Great bands break up all the time, and almost inevitably - save for Led Zep, bless Robert Plant's heart - they get back together years later, in all but rare cases with new material that fails to measure up to the classic catalog.

So what's different about Sleater-Kinney? And why do they get so much attention?

For one thing, many more eyes are now on the band because of Portlandia, the hit Independent Film Channel sketch-comedy show in which Brownstein stars with Saturday Night Live alum Fred Armisen.

All three members of S-K - the band takes its name from a road in Lacy, Wash., that ran by one of their first rehearsal places - were busy while apart. Tucker, a mother of two, released two albums credited to the Corin Tucker Band. Weiss recorded and toured with Quasi, her band with ex-husband Sam Coomes, as well as Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks. She was also in Wild Flag, the band fronted by Brownstein and Ex Hex singer Mary Timony, whose self-titled album was one of the strongest of 2011.

But thanks to Portlandia, S-K now has a celebrity in the band in Brownstein. After S-K split, the indie Renaissance woman also worked in a Portland ad agency and as an NPR music blogger. But her comic skills, as she and Armisen satirize feminist bookstore owners and other Portland stereotypes, have made her such a signifier of cool that she stars in her own American Express commercial.

So with a famous person now in the band, and a generation of music fans who missed out the first time now primed to see what the big deal was, more people are ready to check out Sleater-Kinney's new album than ever paid any mind to such early hot platters as Dig Me Out (1996) and All Hands on the Bad One (2002).

Which is good, because No Cities to Love rewards the attention.

It hurtles out of the gate with "Price Tag," signaling that the album will embrace adult concerns (all three band members have passed their 40th birthdays). On the surface, it's a song about workaday struggles. "I scramble eggs, for little legs,/ The day's off in a rush," Tucker sings, as the song pushes forward with energy of '60s spy-movie theme. But it could just as easily be about the bill coming due for an expensive war, or an emotional gambit that didn't pay: "We never checked the price tag/When the cost comes in, it's gonna be high."

No Cities is a concise, 10-song, 33-minute salvo of continued relevance that is also plenty of fun. Having reestablished their connection, Tucker, Weiss, and Brownstein lock in immediately, with no time to slow down.

One song is called "No Anthems," but the title is misleading. There are more than a few. What the album is short on is slow songs or ballads.

"Fade," the final track on No Cities, does take its foot off the gas pedal slightly, but still builds up an enveloping wall of sound while considering the band's time apart, and now back together, and coming to a carpe diem conclusion: "If there's no tomorrow, you better live."

"Surface Envy" raises its fist more emphatically, snapping to attention with a descending guitar riff. "I feel so much stronger now that you're here/We've got so much to do, let me make that clear," Tucker sings, and fists are raised on a shouted-out chorus: "We win, we lose/Only together do we break the rules." Reunited, and it feels so good.

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@delucadan

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