Sleater-Kinney stage their beautifully dark dystopia in St. Paul

Sleater-Kinney performed at Palace Theatre with Black Belt Eagle Scout on Saturday, March 23.Sara Fish for MPR

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March 25, 2024

A somewhat subdued crowd filled Palace Theatre Saturday night to see riot grrrl cornerstones Sleater-Kinney. On tour with their expansive, grief-laden 11th album, Little Rope, the band brought out a performance that was anything but subtle.

Kicking off the evening was indie rocker Katherine Paul, better known as Black Belt Eagle Scout. The proudly queer and Native American artist who grew up on the Swinomish Indian Reservation in Washington charmed the crowd with select tracks from her first three studio albums. The dreamy eight-song set displayed her airy vocals, poignant lyrics, and guitar prowess. Wailing shredding guitar solos are Paul’s specialty, and she ripped one out right away at the end of the first song of her set, “My Blood Runs Through this Land.” A hypnotic drum beat had the crowds’ hips swaying during “Treeline.” At the same time, she breathed more than sang the lyrics, “I wish I woulda told on you so I wouldn't be on fire,” which added contemptuous intimacy to a song about her relationship with anxiety and depression. The crowd loved the more raucous and upbeat “Fancy Dance,” featuring Paul’s clipped strumming and cyclical riffs while she pushed her throaty vocals higher. Whereas her voice on “Loss & Relax” was like velvet. “Oh, the loss of you brings me back to the place that was our home,” she sang while low and heavy drums filled the room, backing guitar and bass flowing strong like a rushing river.

There were impactful moments when she spoke about identity during her set, too. Before “Indians Never Die,” she acknowledged Minnesota as Dakota homelands and dedicated it to Indigenous folks in the crowd who responded with whoops and leles. “Soft Stud,” a song full of longing and desire, Paul said, was a song about queer Indigenous love and was dedicated to Indigenous queer, nonbinary, and trans youth. Her live version was a little more upbeat and quicker tempo than recorded, with the crowd bobbing and waving fists in the air.

Watching Paul play guitar is magical and hypnotizing, and her sincerity for her craft is abundant. As she plucked out a solo at the melodic crescendo of “Sam, a Dream,” the mesmerized crowd fell silent. Paul’s lyrics are full of longing, anger, pain, and unrequited love, and those feelings come out when she shreds on her guitar, shaking her hair around, and bouncing onstage.

The crowd seemed ready by the time Carrie Brownstein, Corin Tucker, and their backing band took the stage promptly at 9:10. Everyone was decked out in all-black outfits, with Brownstein and Tucker both sporting powerful, strong-shouldered looks when they launched into Little Rope’s opening track, “Hell.” Three cutout columns on a backdrop behind the stage shifted from white to an ominous red, a fitting color to accompany the turmoil that birthed the album.

Loss, rage, and creeping despair permeate Little Rope, no doubt the chilling lingering fingerprints of Brownstein’s loss of both of her mother and stepfather in a tragic accident shortly after she and Tucker began recording. The more rock-forward album shows off the growth and evolution of the three-decade-old band, and Brownstein and Tucker played nine of the 10 songs off the album released this past January.

Sleater-Kinney are known for Tucker and Brownstein’s dueling guitars, but they also played successfully with inorganic electronic sounds. During “Needlessly Wild,” Brownstein’s signature throaty voice drifted over a bouncy beat with robotic glitchy noises. Green lights and strobes flashed while the crowd gently bobbed. “The Center Won’t Hold,” the title track of their 2019 album, led in with blasting white strobes and cold, hollow, metallic percussion. Brownstein and Tucker’s unsettling call and response leaned a little bluesier. They melded into a spooky whisper before a frenzied, strobing finish. A synthy, heart-tugging crowd-pleaser of the night was when they performed “Dance Song 97,” but recast as slower, dreamier cover version released by local legends Low. At this time, the band expressed their love for Alan Sparhawk, the late Mimi Parker, and the audience.

Brownstein and Tucker regularly used their contrasting voices as additional instruments, transporting and delighting the audience. “One More Hour,” from their beloved 1997 album Dig Me Out, showcased their signature dissonant guitar and staccato drum. Brownstein’s almost teasing backing vocals paired with Tucker’s Stevie-Nicks-esque vibrato on the chorus encapsulated a doomed romance.

“Jumpers” featured a plucky guitar, and its quicker tempo added a level of anxiety. As Brownstein bounced onstage, she cast a huge shadow on the walls perpendicular to the stage. Her lyrics went from a hiss in the verses to a growl in the chorus. She was so active, coming down onto her knees then leaping, swinging her guitar like a weapon as the crowd reacted effusively. Sticky, synth-laden “Hunt You Down” had bass reverberating through the crowd’s ribcages. The massive echo on Brownstein and Tucker’s vocals sounded menacing. “The thing you fear the most will hunt you down,” they sang forebodingly as spooky, creeping synths bled out until the end. During the final song of the encore, “Entertain,” Tucker’s icy howl was on full display while Brownstein growled and blasted away on her guitar.

Although the crowd was receptive, they were less active than the two femme-rock idols onstage. The sincerity and connectedness of the band’s two remaining founding members was apparent throughout the night. They didn’t make much eye contact — after performing together for so long, they also didn’t need to — while bringing St. Paul into their own world.

Sleater-Kinney