Word on the ground from Sleater-Kinney’s surprise headline at The Dome.

Experiencing two Sleater-Kinney shows in one week wasn’t on any fan’s radar leading up to their Roundhouse headline. However, the band surprised their followers with an unexpected announcement – a launch show for their new album Little Rope at Downstairs at the Dome. All eyes immediately darted to the words: “250 capacity.” The prospect of witnessing Sleater-Kinney in a small-scale venue was beyond imagination.

Existing on the fringes of their once unyielding unit, fans patiently waited through a decade-long hiatus for their reconciliation. Since the watershed moment in 2014, Sleater-Kinney returned as the lifeline fans had prayed for. The cross-generational glee from fans who gave rise to the band’s success back in 1994, and those who caught wind after their reconciliation, meant that this short notice served as a filter, separating the dedicated from the more casually interested.

The atmosphere inside The Dome was excitable and restless. Smoke poured out from the stage, laying down a hot, thick layer of smog for the audience to crouch under. The room turned a cardinal red, casting an ambient glow over the gathering and mirroring the hellfire aesthetic of their new album. The audience burst into cheers upon seeing the multi-instrumentalist Katie Harkin leading the band on stage, followed by Angie Boylan (drums) and Toko Yasuda (keys). Unparalleled vocalist Corin Tucker and exalted guitarist Carrie Brownstein assumed their usual positions at the front, exchanging a glance and devilish smile, their excitement palpable. As the first chord reverberated through the air, it acted like an invocation of power. In a trance, the audience edged closer, vacuum-packing themselves into a close-knit huddle, where a shared devotion was the foundation for their alliance.

The set began with the unveiling of their single “Hell,” a dance of dynamic shifts which hung on the edge of Corin’s voice. Tenderly, she opened, “Hell don’t have no worries, hell don’t have no past,” edging us along in anticipation for her signature escalation. Reaching vocal zenith, she carried us through the chorus, “You ask, why like there’s no tomorrow.” Singing with a plea in her hands and a cry in her voice, each vowel was stretched open and dug out, drawing us into the very void the song is named after.

While Corin sang all the verses on Hell, Carrie channeled her energy into the six-string lifeline draped around her neck. Traditionally, vocals were a shared endeavour for the band, passing the baton back and forth, but after a heartbreaking personal loss the previous year, Carrie admitted to “lacking the strength” to sing on Little Rope. Yet, any remaining energy she possessed found its outlet through her guitar. Her presence that night was a testament to the strength found between artist and audience, that both possess the power to momentarily, yet profoundly, revive a broken heart. The crowd, in a state of euphoria and vocal frenzy, erupted in screams as the band concluded their debut performance.

Progressing through the first act, Carrie delighted the audience by welcoming them to the show, “It’s nice to have you here; we can literally see every single person.” The set list featured powerful performances of “The Centre Won’t Hold”, “Price Tag”, “One More Hour”, “Jumpers”, and “Worry With You”. Famously political, the band took a moment to express their support for a free Palestine: “Of course, we want a ceasefire now, and Palestinian liberation…we’re so fortunate to be here alive. So fight with all your heart, please.”

In 2022, they unveiled Dig Me In: A Dig Me Out Covers Album, featuring acclaimed artists such as Margo Price, Blackbelt Eagle Scout and St Vincent, taking on their iconic classics. One standout rendition was Low’s take on “Dance Song ’97”, a cover that strips back the originally upbeat track into a hauntingly solemn expression of longing. In a tender moment on stage, Carrie steps towards the mic and addresses the audience with her heart, shedding light on the profound impact of artistry, friendship, and the untimely loss of Low’s Mimi Parker. “We miss her greatly,” she shared, “the beautiful thing about hearing a band like Low cover your song is that they completely surpass it.” The band went on to play Low’s languid rendition which moved slowly like early fog, encompassing the audience in its mourning.

The first act was punctuated by the rebellious anthem, “What’s Mine is Yours,” a song that delves equally into breakdown and recovery. Corin’s voice cut through any sludge in the low end, ordering us to “Sit down, honey, let’s kill some time!” With Angie’s drumming and Carrie’s strumming in tandem, the song marched forwards, instilling a fevered energy within the audience. Carrie’s vocals are almost singed at the ends, delivering the commanding and desperate call, “Don’t lie to me, never say goodbye to me, I don’t want to be here alone.” Executed with a sense of urgency, she sings like her nerve endings are sanded raw, each one exposed on her body. The first act concluded with a unifying call to action, and subversion of the song’s title as Carrie declares, “What’s yours is mine!” This rebellious spirit serves as the perfect cliffhanger for the second act.

Thrown into a dogfight, the second half erupted with “Ironclad” – a song that thrashes, pummels, and bodychecks its listeners. It summons superkicks and headbanging from Carrie while she tugs at her strings. The guitar-line swivels around Corin, as she alternates between singing through clenched teeth and an open jaw, evoking a sense of instability in the room. The drumming clatters and bangs, reflecting its metallic wash of sound through shining eruptions of cymbals and snare. Ironclad transforms into a battleground, inciting flailing limbs from the musicians as they navigate the whirlwind song.

Soaring through their set list, the band enthusiastically delivered commanding performances of “Hurry on Home”, “Dig Me Out”, and “Modern Girl”. As Sleater-Kinney neared the end of their show, promising the audience of only two more songs, they swiftly dispelled any disappointment by assuring their return after the release of Little Rope next year – a proclamation that triggered a borderline hysterical scream from the crowd.

Debuted earlier that day, “Say It Like You Mean It” positioned itself as a song adjacent to the confrontational energy of “Ironclad”. The tragedy and heartbreak which came across in the lyrics is offset by the slow sentiment of this growing ballad. The song as a whole is gut-wrenching in its poetics, an act of surrender, gently plucking at its own heartstrings as it shows its hand.

Watching Sleater-Kinney live is a visceral experience that detangles emotions. The band’s prowess to evoke such a dynamic range of feeling highlights that their strengths lie in live performance. To be a devotee of the band means navigating the peaks and pitfalls of their turbulent legacy, as well as a continuous act of forgiveness for their perceived sins.

The band concluded the night on a resounding high. The energy of their performance reached new heights with its vibrant call to the front for “Entertain”, leaving the audience in a state of triumphant euphoria. As if being transported to the inside of a blaring fire alarm, the pulsating red lights strobed, transforming the room into a raucous cluster of revolt.

The desperation of the fans’ screams underscored the interdependence between Sleater-Kinney and their devoted followers. The word ‘unrestrained’ encapsulates the night. In order to truly understand Sleater-Kinney, you have to meet them on the ground floor. Ushered into the core of their punk-rock sound, we stood face-to-face with the riot-grrrl ethos that originally gave rise to this cult favourite group.