In Sleater Kinney’s eleventh album — and the fourth since the departure of longtime drummer Janet Weiss — Corin Tucker and Carrie Brownstein pull themselves from the depths of grief with the help of a little rope.
Little Rope is the outcome of the recording sessions that followed the tragic loss of Brownstein’s mother and stepfather in a car accident, and the album has several powerful moments as a result. “Hell” is a formidable opener, channeling the passion and catharsis of their strongest work. The track is a sort of return to form in that way; the distorted garage rock sound is reminiscent of The Woods, one of the most highly praised and mature records in their extensive catalog. Tucker’s vocals are as piercing and uncompromising as ever, showcasing her stunning range and tight control of dynamics. The haunting repetition of “You ask / why like there’s no tomorrow” evokes a desperation for an answer, for closure, which is made even more powerful by the context of Brownstein’s blindsiding loss.
But the remainder of the record is significantly weaker. Some of the transitions from track to track feel messy and disjointed. The emotional potency of “Hell” juxtaposed with the bouncier “Needlessly Wild” is jarring and disorienting. The slick, almost new wave-y “Say It Like You Mean It” feels out of place among the more guitar-driven cuts like “Hunt You Down” and “Small Finds.” It’s certainly not unthinkable that such a punk-aligned act could move in a smoother, more radio-friendly direction, but for Sleater-Kinney, it seems like a strange choice.
Speaking of rhythm, Weiss’s absence is deeply felt on Little Rope. While Brownstein and Tucker have long been an unstoppable creative force, Weiss’s explosive drumming was the driving force behind their most beloved and emotionally potent work. Without Weiss’s tight, intense rhythms, the famously volcanic sound of Sleater-Kinney is subdued, diminished. The drumming on “Say It Like You Mean It” exemplifies this with its lackluster fills and simple, uninspired rhythm that remains steady and unchanging throughout the track. On some tracks, the drums sound almost muffled — the snare on “Small Finds” is fuzzy in a way that is somehow simultaneously dull and grating.
It feels cruel to criticize a work so informed by mourning — the themes of grief and guilt maintain a solid presence in lyrics throughout the record. Though Little Rope isn’t short on emotion, that feeling isn’t channeled as powerfully as it has been in Sleater-Kinney’s previous works, like the white-hot yearning of Dig Me Out, the wintry solemnity of The Hot Rock, or the jaded anger of The Woods. Of course, Brownstein and Tucker clearly haven’t lost their prowess. Tucker’s vocals are particularly impressive on “Small Finds,” and Brownstein’s knack for catchy riffs is showcased on “Don’t Feel Right.” But here, their sound is more subdued than ever, and this is a major disappointment for fans of a band who have historically succeeded primarily on their refusal to compromise.
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