Quiet Riot

Bearer of the flag from the beginning
Now who would have believed this riot grrrl's a cynic
But they took our ideas to their marketing star
And now I'm spending all my days at girlpower.com
Trying to buy back a little piece of me
               - Sleater-Kinney

And now, new for the 2009 Halloween season, feast your eyes on one of the the #1 must have girls’ costumes (hint – it’s not a clown):

From HalloweenCostumes4U:

"She's sure to turn heads when she wears this stylish Riot Grrrl Child's Halloween Costume. The Riot Grrrl costume includes the vinyl spike detailed dress and studded belt as shown. Add the Camo Girl boot tops as seen below and she'll be ready to riot in style."

I guess it’s no worse than when we dressed up as "punk rockers” in the 80’s but it always seems more offensive when it is MY generation that is being exploited. The real irony is that this post is lifted directly from Carrie Brownstein's blog. I wonder if when she penned those lyrics, she imagined eight-year-olds with inflatable plastic spikes and vinyl combat boots. I wonder if she's saddened or encouraged by this, I mean, Riot Grrl was all about gender equality in music so any exposure now is refreshing.  Especially set against today’s musical landscape which, thanks to American Idol, proves that it is all about being the most popular with the fans, not about the music.

But, don't get me wrong; I don't think that bands like Bikini Kill or Bratmobile were all that good – it’s just that they had something to say. I think a lot about this blog entry by Jean Smith of Mecca Normal. Though it is long, I would encourage anyone to read the whole thing but really, this part especially stands out:
As I click around the internet, looking at women presenting music — nice hair, lots of make-up, sexy clothes — I listen to their music. They want to be liked. They want fame and status and money. They dress and behave in a way that attracts people to them — to be liked and to sell music. Oh god, that awful Taylor Swift. Imitating music, pretending to be a rock star. Reprehensible crap. The whole package is a commodity. This is what people like — the masses. They want to be her. They would rather be her — or fuck her — than live in their own bodies taking on the challenge of inventing ways to feel happy with themselves and those around them. Popular culture offers escape in the form of Taylor Swift.

Of course, I say all this knowing full well that I am old enough to have an eight-year-old and the last rock show I attended was probably over four years ago. Still, a little part of me dies every time I see a Time/Life compilation meant to embody “Generation X” only to find bottom of the barrel selections by Blind Melon, Bush, and Candlebox.