A recent resurgence of punk-powered feminism — or is that girl-powered punk? — raises the question: What was, or is, riot grrrl? A movement, a genre, an era, a scene?
When Bikini Kill took the stage at a packed Palladium in Hollywood on April 25, the band reclaimed a podium it had left 22 years earlier. For much of the audience, the show was a first chance to see the band they had discovered through books, or movies, or maybe even their mom’s record collection. For others, including myself, it was a jolt back to a defining moment in our lives. Time accordioned, and I realized: Bikini Kill is as vital as I remembered.
…I heard Mac DeMarco’s brand-new album “Salad Days” for the first time and thought: Yes. I get this. The laid-back grooviness, the moments of introspection undermined by cheeky apathy and hints of l’enfant terrible.
On a recent afternoon, Mr. Segall spoke by phone with Mike Rubin from his new home in Los Angeles, where he moved from San Francisco after recording “Sleeper.”
