You're not the only one

I've never listened to an album that let me sink inside of it. My life has been musical introductory by other people, showing me music that means something to them that eventually means something to me too. I've spent an entire year reading and meditating upon Carrie Brownstein's book, "Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl". (A review will be up on my other blog in a few weeks.) To celebrate the fact that I finally finished the book this afternoon, I listened to Sleater-Kinney's album The Woods and just lost the air from my lungs. 

Carrie Brownstein has been a hero of mine since I started watching Portlandia, and I had never heard of Sleater-Kinney until their reunion a couple of years ago. I didn't even know what riot grrrl music was. I tried the music, but felt a disconnect from it. The guitars were angry and disjointed, the lyrics fuzzy and angry. It wasn't my style. At least, not in that point in my life. I was 17 and my fixation was on the silly and lighthearted. I wanted music and culture to distract me, not fire me up. 

Fast-forward a couple of years, and I am angry. It's bubbling under the surface at all times, exploding in a fiery mess every few weeks. Sleater-Kinney (and more specifically, The Woods) found their place. Corin's angry wailing feels like its coming from that fire under the surface. Carrie's gentle, lyrical rage sounds the same as the way I carry myself from the day-today. (Above my bedroom mirror I have a picture of her with "Get Angry" written in bold Sharpie as a daily reminder.)

I drove through Provo with the windows rolled down, autumn air leaking into my car and filling my lungs. The radio was blasting, and I wailed alongside Corin and felt like someone truly understood my heart for the first time in years. It was beautiful. It was transformative. 

Scream when you need to. You'll feel lighter in places you didn't know were even heavy.