The Melodic Entanglement of Sleater-Kinney’s The Hot Rock
In 1999, Sleater-Kinney released their fourth album, titled The Hot Rock. The trio had made its name in the early-90s radical feminist punk movement, Riot Grrrl, creating music with chaotic guitars, a driving pulse, and fiery lyrics. The Hot Rock subscribes to a different sonic atmosphere, but loses none of the signature pungence. By all accounts, the record was a change of pace: slower, more angular, more experimental. In revisiting its sound more than 20 years later, it still feels fresh and it still stands out in comparison to prior releases. The Hot Rock is emblematic of Sleater-Kinney’s pivot into new, more experimental territories, employing newfound, polished intricacies to create an acidic album featuring a sharpened style.
Sleater-Kinney formed in 1994 in America’s Pacific Northwest, alongside other groups who operated with the goal of empowering women to participate in the booming, but male-dominated, punk scene, like Bikini Kill and Bratmobile. The sound of the movement was the sound of early-90s punk: dripping with rage, political motivation, and cacophony, but the voices were women’s. By 1999, the initial period of Riot Grrrl was waning, and Sleater-Kinney forged their way forward in the form of The Hot Rock.
Each song on The Hot Rock is crafted with sophistication. “Start Together,” the first track on the album, opens with guitars playing a series of repeating tense, layered melodies. The central idea here is counterpoint, a method of writing music such that different melodies are stacked on top of each other. As the guitars play in counterpoint on “Start Together,” they move in contradictory motion and sounds echo amongst each other. Eventually, the disparate melodies burst into a chorus made of pounding harmony and unison calls-to-action. Earlier albums like Dig Me Out (1997) and Call The Doctor (1996) also employ the technique of interwoven melodies, but here, they choose to make the layering even more complex. From just these first moments, the strands that make The Hot Rock stand out become evident. Contrapuntal intricacies take the center stage, whether it be in vocals, guitars, or elsewhere, throughout the album, creating the granular detail that drives the signature feeling of angularity on the record.
Contrapuntal motion comes to a head in “Burn, Don’t Freeze!,” where both voice and accompaniment function in different interlocking melodies. Here, the unbridled sound of Riot Grrrl is transformed into two vocal lines uttering different potent lyrics, interlocking in harmonic call-and-response. Guitars strum with virulence, tension bouncing between their harsh melodies. Perhaps songs like these could be described as jagged, but what causes that sentiment is the entangled melodic layers. Guitar and vocal style also emanate a sense of angularity; each strum is static and rough, while voices scream-speak-sing in punctuated phrases and precise annunciation. The result is a jolting song full of whirling emotion, oozing incandescence into every phrase.
Even during “The Size of Our Love,” the slowest ballad on the album, the throughline of intermeshed melodic lines continues. The song employs a stripped-down accompaniment, where one guitar reverberates in a call-and-response with voice, slowly broadening into a fuller ensemble of ringing sounds. This is perhaps the most crunchy of the melodic weavings we’ve heard so far, trading precise and punchy phrases for more drawn-out, fuzzy themes. The resulting complexity becomes more of a wash, eschewing a bit of the previously-established definition in favor of a contemplative resonance.
Syncopation is another key element of the sonic atmosphere Sleater-Kinney creates on The Hot Rock. On “God Is A Number,” sparseness and fullness alternate in piercing rhythmic junctures. Here, syncopation comes into full play: the repeating melodies in the guitars play off-the-beat, forming an off-kilter accompanying line. Voice sings on yet another beat, punching vocals amongst the guitar’s pauses. As the song breaks into its chorus, the lyric “god is a number” pierces in syncopation above a churning, chordal accompaniment. This sort of jarring interaction between parts is yet another stylistic choice that contributes to a sense of angularity, but perhaps what is most engaging about the overlapping sounds is their inherent intricacy.
Melodic complexity and precisely interwoven themes prove themselves to be the most biting elements on The Hot Rock, driving the sense of fiery freedom that so strongly defines the record. While hints of this counterpoint can be heard on earlier records, it comes into full force as the overarching stylistic element of this album, creating a spiky atmosphere that continually surprises. Sleater-Kinney explores textural sound again on later records like The Woods (2005), but The Hot Rock exists in its own, blending previously-established elements with new compositional techniques. The result is an album of searing complexity that explores distinctive musical territories.
