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The Woods >>

After its most prolonged absence from the recording studio, Sleater-Kinney has reloaded with a smoldering rock and roll record that rivals John Lennon's Plastic Ono Band and Nirvana's In Utero in terms of unexpectedness. It is a 180-degree proclamation to the album which came before it. Producer David Fridmann (Weezer, Flaming Lips) coaxed the Portland, OR trio to retool its approach to making music. The results are startling and far and away the most collaborative, experimental and risky in the band's seven-record career. Corin Tucker's supreme guttural form is on display from the lead-off track "The Fox"--a would-be children's tale overridden by crunching power chords and drummer Janet Weiss's battering percussion. The Woods tugs on your ear musically and stabs at your heart lyrically on riff-wielding jaunts "Wilderness," "Modern Girl" and "Rollercoaster." The live-in-one-take, 11-minute blockbuster "Let's Call It Love" unleashes Carrie Brownstein's foray into guitar-solo psychedelic. Haven't heard Sleater-Kinney yet? Try Dig Me Out and work your way forward. Already on board? Find a steady chair, feel your ears bleed and watch your speakers disintegrate. --Scott Holter

Dig Me Out >>

With their two-guitar interplay and scrappy rock-goddess assault, Olympia, Washington, gave us the highly touted Sleater-Kinney who created something nearly impossible in 1997: a truly dynamic and vital punk album. Moreover, they're one of the only bands going that can dip into completely non-ironic, celebratory rock convincingly. Dig Me Out marks the point where the trio graduates from being a riot grrl band to simply being among the best rock groups around. --Roni Sarig

The Hot Rock >>

Everyone knew that Sleater-Kinney were capable of creating some intense (and infectious) blasts of punk and pop, but in 1999 they finally got the production treatment they deserved. The Hot Rock, a sometimes furious--but always catchy--disc of pop-punk, is one of the Northwest trio's best. --Jason Verlinde

All Hands on the Bad One >>

It has all the blistering guitar work, punk-rock harmonies, and thunderous drumming of their previous efforts. But with All Hands on the Bad One, the Northwest trio of Sleater-Kinney doesn't forget to have fun, too. Their sound has evolved, but the spirit that forged the seminal riot-grrrl threesome animates every anthem here. --Jason Verlinde

One Beat >>

For all the noisy bluster involving plastic barrettes, thrift-store guitars, and caterwauling political catchphrases, Sleater-Kinney have always been pragmatic about their music. The group's self-titled debut got by on ferocity alone. But each successive release has exhibited a dramatic step forward as youthful exuberance gives way to melody and poise. One Beat is the trio's most assured work yet. A jubilant blast of tambourines, theremin, and Corin Tucker's rubber-band vocals usher in the spiky "Oh!," the Strokes' locker-room diffidence mingles with Sonic Youth's angular cool on "Prisstina," and the title track, all urgent wailing and power chords, rumbles with pure excitement. The rest of the album isn't far behind. --Aidin Vaziri

Call the Doctor >>

Sleater-Kinney's musical manifesto is a wake-up call to not only the old boy network, but to young women who find themselves increasingly at odds with it. Helmed by Corin Tucker (Heaven's To Betsy) and Carrie Brownstein (Excuse 17), this trio is not only furious and formidable, but genuinely significant. On a musical landscape populated by open sewers like The 7 Mary Bush Pilots Idiot-Grunge Revival or Hootie's Home for the Terminally Bland and Sensitive, Tucker's spine-shivering voice shrieking "I wanna be your Joey Ramone / Pictures of me on your bedroom door" cracks through the narcotic haze of mediocrity like a rat tail on a bare bottom. When she declares herself "The Queen of Rock & Roll," I'm inclined to smile and think "If only." Cultural importance aside, this rocks. Their eerily dead-on Sonic Youth snippet in "I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone" had me checking the credits for a Kim Gordon cameo, while "Little Mouth," "Stay Where You Are" and the incendiary title track are some of the most raging chunks of punk found around these parts since Greg Sage shook the rain off his rubbers. More than recommended: required. --John Chandler