Sleater Kinney - Let’s Call it Love
For themesong, a music meme. See here for details. Today’s theme (and here’s the calendar of themes) is: over eight minutes long.
This is one of my favorite Sleater Kinney songs from my favorite Sleater Kinney album (The Woods) which happens to be in my top ten albums of all freaking time.
Let’s Call it Love is about eleven minutes of raw power. It’s a fitting wind-down to the career of SK - it’s the second to last song on their very last album - in that the whole thing plays out like a big fuck you to anyone who ever thought the band was nothing but grrrl rock.
Here, you’ve got eleven minutes and two seconds of bombasity (which was not a word until right now). SK pulls strength and power from 70s metal, invoking Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin along the way, then adds doses of psychedelia layered over modern rock strung together with power vocals and a six minute hyperbolic jam that leaves you breathless and wanting to know what else Sleater Kinney would have had in store for us if The Woods was not their curtain call.
If you don’t have eleven minutes to spare then go about 2:50 in and listen for a full minute and I’m telling you, you will be powerless but to listen to the rest of the song. More than once. Jesus Christ, if that opening riff doesn’t do it for you on it’s own, if pulsating vocals and the drum fills worthy of some hard rock superband don’t pull you in, you just don’t understand what rock and roll is or that this is one of the finest examples of it. This is eleven minutes of a band pouring everything they have into their very finite existence.
When you’re done listening to this - and you will listen - you should do yourself and your soul a huge favor and listen to the entirety of The Woods because that album isn’t just an album of music. It’s an entity. It’s alive. The Fox and Jumpers and Modern Girl and the whole of it; it’s just a beautiful, all-encompassing thing that takes your emotions and wrings them out, every last drop of anything stirring inside you is poured out into a glass and choked down like a shot of whiskey that’s going to burn your insides forever.
The Woods is full of sound and fury, signifying everything. It explores the depths of every genre of rock and roll and throws back its findings at you in a wall of sound that leaves your nerves shaking. It’s an angry yet resigned diary of Sleater Kinney that signs its last page with a flourished fuck off.
Yea, I might love this album a lot.