On September 8, 2024, Bikini Kill graced the stage of the Brooklyn Paramount with their highly energetic performance. The band has been extremely influential to the Riot Grrrl movement, a feminism-driven punk wave, and this was reflected in the audience. The band started in 1990, which brought in an older crowd. But they’ve clearly remained popular with the youth, as there were many young girls gazing adoringly at frontwoman Kathleen Hanna.
Bikini Kill apparently attracts eccentrically-dressed women. As I looked around the room, I noticed that the women, despite being so unique-looking, all ended up looking the same. Surely, if one of these women went to a small town in Kansas, they would stand out, but once all of these women congregated in the same room, they created their own “normal.”
Bikini Kill is for women with facial piercings, unnaturally colored hair, bold makeup, tattoos, and loud clothing. As women who easily fit this description, my friend and I felt very comfortable being surrounded by like-minded women. Hanna also did her part as the ringleader of a room full of these girls, prancing around on stage wearing a sequined, puffy green dress and big eyeliner.
In between songs, she recalled several stories from her life that related to the oppression of women, the genocide in Palestine, her experience with religion, and she expressed her appreciation for the young girls in the audience who continue the angry feminist ideology that Bikini Kill exemplified.
She also thanked the younger generation for their “invention” of words such as “mansplaining” and “gaslighting,” citing these as words she now uses in her diary to unpack her issues with the way men have treated her. The crowd’s positive reaction proved how politically charged Bikini Kill’s music is. Punk in general is inherently political, and Bikini Kill and their fans are a clear example of this.
With Bikini Kill’s music being so driven by female rage, the venue quickly became full of girls jumping and moshing, screaming the lyrics to their dearly beloved songs. As the band performed “Suck My Left One,” I was caught in the violence of the crowd and separated from my friend. Even when I first joined the mosh pit, it was not by choice. The band came onstage, and a gaggle of girls pushed their way through the crowd to get to the mosh pit, dragging me along with them. I planned on marinating for a few songs and admiring the mosh pit from a safe distance until I was ready. Although it was sooner than expected, it was a lovely experience.
The night didn’t become unenjoyable until my friend and I left the concert. It only took two blocks of us walking to my car to get catcalled by a man on the street, making it a painfully ironic end to the show.