By: Scott Murry
Kathleen Hanna spoke earnestly at the Wilbur Theatre earlier this week on her Rebel Girl book tour. The evening was hosted by Brookline Booksmith. As lead singer of Bikini Kill, Le Tigre, and The Julie Ruin, Hanna is a feminist punk icon of the riot grrrl movement. Her new memoir weaves through her life and music in a collection of essays. Rebel Girl covers heavy trauma, and Hanna expressed that joy wasn’t always easy to write about. Reflecting on the collection with moderator Imani Perry she said, “I had to excavate the joy from underneath the trauma.”
She chose stories that would stitch together the narrative, but noted affirmatively that trauma isn’t a requisite to creating art. When hearing people say another bad politician being elected will be “so good for punk,” her eyes roll. “When we’re given joy and imagination, I would take that any day.” While not speaking much about the sobering aspects of her childhood that are in the book, she did quote one of Perry’s books, “adults had proven unreliable in nursing wounds.” Hanna found solace and bliss by hiding in records and enjoying what she referred to amicably as the “Barbie sauna.” The attic of her Maryland home growing up was sweltering, but provided space to be bored and create without inhibition. In these spaces all alone and free from her family, she was enamored with the sound of her voice and its elasticity. Learning how words could carry octaves to bounce off the walls felt deeply empowering.
Many years later, she met her band mate Toby Vail at Evergreen State College in Washington. Hanna was inspired by Vail’s music-making and DIY energy. It became another highly formative moment in her creative path. Seeing Vail create music and zines inspired her to push beyond the boy bands that populated the punk scene. They formed Bikini Kill and Hanna swooned about this outlet with friends being wildly invigorating—even if the surroundings weren’t always encouraging or accepting. She voiced that punk is an idea, not a genre. It is a creative outlet for community and culture, not corporations and codes. When seeing bands that would spit and be crude, she felt it was just like a “cosplay version of The Sex Pistols.” Bikini Kill began to make music with a voice that was missing at the time.
“Guys would tell me that sexism was dead,” but Hanna knew that wasn’t the case. She consistently saw domestic abuse shelters full where she volunteered. “Guys that said ‘P.C.’ (politically correct) in the 90s are like the ‘woke’ shouters of today.” In her book and through the evening, the belittling things said to Hanna and her band just for existing are unfortunately ongoing. She observed that they are people wanting attention. “They want to dump water on your shine.” The exclusivity and machismo are very tiring.
35 years since the inception of the band, Hanna is grateful. Having a tour crew, boundaries and communication amongst each other—they are powerfully carrying a torch for equality. Her friendships are important relationships. Listening to her speak, it felt apparent that activism and creativity are powerful tools together. Rebel Girl evokes the positivity that can come from community. At the conclusion of the evening, the book title’s eponymous track played. Hanna strutted off stage giggly and proud.