Feminists We’re Calling You: Le Tigre at Brooklyn Steel | Show Review
At the end of July, electro-punk band Le Tigre played their first NYC shows in almost 20 years. I went to the first show of their three-night run at Brooklyn Steel and felt many things. Most importantly, I felt gratitude.
As a longtime grunge fanatic, I learned early on about Le Tigre frontwoman Kathleen Hanna’s iconic place in the Olympia scene, a place that originated in 1990 with Bikini Kill (alongside Tobi Vail and Kathi Wilcox). Ever the word master, Hanna is also the one who coined the phrase ‘smells like teen spirit,’ inspiring the hit Nirvana single after she wrote “Kurt smells like Teen Spirit” on frontman Kurt Cobain’s wall (referring to the deodorant). A year later, “Smells Like Teen Spirit” peaked at #6 on the Billboard Hot 100. Grunge itself would not have entered the mainstream if it wasn’t for her.
Riot grrrl, as a movement, also wouldn’t exist without Hanna. She organized and participated in one of the first-ever riot grrrl meetings in Washington D.C., published fanzines of feminist writing that wouldn’t have otherwise reached any audience, and used Bikini Kill as a platform to share her anger and discontent with the way women had (and continue to be) pushed aside in society. Hanna became a beacon of feminist trailblazing at an extremely young age, writing “SLUT” on her stomach and performing in her underwear in Olympia basements at 22, physically going into crowds to remove male hecklers from her gigs. She singlehandedly forged a place for women in punk: her “girls to the front” mantra created a safe space for women at shows they otherwise wouldn’t have felt secure, constantly subjected to violent moshing and aggression from male punk fans.
Le Tigre (which sees Hanna alongside multi-hyphenate artist Johanna Fateman, and DJ/musician JD Samson), while holding the same feminist punk values as Hanna’s previous endeavors, used different mediums to make those statements. Where Bikini Kill opted for a barebones setup (guitar, bass, drums), Le Tigre incorporated lo-fi electronics and pop sensibilities to make punk music that celebrates what is had, rather than lamenting what could be. The group soon became known for its multimedia approach to live shows, which included hints of performance art, choreographed dances, and short-form video backdrops.
Le Tigre came to Brooklyn Steel for three nights at the end of July to close out their comeback tour. July 27th had been burning a hole in my calendar for months; I’d long been referring to this concert as “the eye of my storm” to get me through day-to-day frustrations from the second I purchased tickets in January. As the last stop on the tour, I’d already heard and read rave reviews about the group’s persistent relevancy, and the fact that they definitely “still got it.” This only made my excitement bubble up more. By the morning of the 27th, I was ready to explode.
NYC-based comedian Morgan Bassichis opened the show with an unexpectedly hysterical set that started with a song proclaiming their love for seltzer (absolutely yes) and had a cabaret-like cadence that kept the energy up while dipping a toe into some of the themes the headliner was soon to tackle. I hadn’t looked into the opener, so I wasn’t expecting a comedy set, but it was a welcome surprise and a nice change of pace. MC Murray Hill (who’d introduced Le Tigre at various NYC shows in the early aughts, including their last performance at Webster Hall many moons ago) also made multiple appearances to see the band on and keep the crowd raging for the encore.
The show itself was one big dance party that gave the audience space to jump and chant about things like queer visibility (“Viz”), John Cassavetes’ misogynistic tendencies (“What’s Yr Take on Cassavetes?”), and how much Giuliani (placeholder for 2023’s Eric Adams?) blows (“My My Metrocard”). There was an unspoken allowance for shouting as loud as you could, letting out all your pent-up anger, and calling out anyone (or thing) that’s pissed you off. If nothing else, the show was cathartic as fuck.
The energy, the choreography, the costumes, and the production of it all made the show feel like a larger-than-life, once-in-a-lifetime experience: the karaoke-esque lyrics displayed on the screen behind the band begged everyone to sing along and created an even more communal crowd. The crowd itself was a mix of those who’d seen Le Tigre in their heyday, and youngsters who wanted a chance to finally see the greatness up close. Everyone was energetic and constantly moving, in true Le Tigre fashion.
Everyone in the group got their chance to shine — Fatemen with “Mediocrity Rules” and “Yr Critique,” Samson with “Viz” — but the show as a whole was about the group. Le Tigre would not be Le Tigre without Fateman’s guitar and Samson’s vocals and drum machine: Hanna’s voice is what brings it all together.
Le Tigre’s performance was a celebration: here we are, here’s what we’ve done, here’s what we want, here’s how we want it. And here’s why you should listen to us. Hanna took some moments throughout the show to eulogize the inspirations behind some songs, mentioning how “Eau d’Bedroom Dancing” (one of my favorites) is about the work and self-reflection needed to regain your confidence (boy, did I need to hear that). Our show also fell mere days after Irish trailblazer Sinéad O’Connor died, and Hanna took the time to honor her when going into “Hot Topic,” a song in itself meant to praise all of the great women who came before them (among them: Yoko Ono, Angela Davis, Cibo Matto, Sleater-Kinney).
The encore, which consisted of “Phanta” followed by “Deceptacon,” was the pinnacle of the energy and vibrance the show constantly emitted. I was out of breath and couldn’t feel my legs by the end, but felt like I just rid myself of any and all frustrations, and let out a big “I don’t care” to anyone (or thing, or institution) that has done me or any other woman wrong. It was the sweatiest I’ve ever been post-show, but it felt earned.
I left Brooklyn Steel with an immense sense of gratitude for Hanna, Fateman, and Samson for all the work they’ve done for women in punk and women in general. I also felt an equally immense sense of responsibility to keep that legacy going. As a baby feminist punk rocker myself, Le Tigre is (naturally) a group of idols. Seeing how unapologetically themselves they are, all these years later, still asking for the same things (in a way that somehow hits even harder now) helped me recognize my position as a young woman in New York City who holds these same beliefs close. If nothing else, Le Tigre lit a fire under my ass to pick up where they’ve left off and make my voice heard.
Setlist:
The the Empty
TKO
FYR
What’s Yr Take on Cassavetes
Hot Topic
Mediocrity Rules
Shred A
On the Verge
Seconds
Get off the Internet
Yr Critique
On Guard
My My Metrocard
Viz
Keep on Livin’
Eau d’Bedroom Dancing
*Encore*
Phanta
Deceptacon
