Little Rope

Despite having to navigate different kinds of losses to get to this stage, Tucker and Brownstein have emerged stringently triumphant, their bond stronger and more unshakeable than ever.

With the 10 tracks on the album, Sleater-Kinney have successfully captured the complex emotions of both our fraught present times and the delicate process of mourning, with taut songwriting coupled with energetic guitar textures, earnest vocals, and pop nuances. Some might even call it a return to form.

Sadness lurks upon the edges of the record, as does rage, but Little Rope ultimately feels cathartic: by processing Brownstein's loss and dwelling upon their shared bonds, Sleater-Kinney once again feels united and purposeful.

Little Rope is undoubtedly Sleater-Kinney’s most commercial album yet. Crusader, in particular, brings to mind the palatable grunginess of No Doubt, and lead single Say It Like You Mean It – with a video starring Succession’s J Smith-Cameron – echoes WH Auden’s Funeral Blues.

It’s a return to rock with a capital 'R'. In fact, make that three capital 'R's.

It emboldens its listener to feel power in confronting the uncomfortable feelings, and encourages them to absorb every emotion along the journey. It is a shining glimmer of hope in a room full of sorrow, and another string to their ever-growing bow.

It’s been one hell of a journey for Sleater-Kinney, but Little Rope is a fierce demonstration of a band back on track.

Little Rope carves space for the well-worn mind, offering sharp perspective on moments when everything seems blunted. [Feb 2024, p.84]

A fraught album that reaches out furiously for release, forming a push-pull of pressure and release around the band’s defining attributes: Tucker’s tumultuous vocals and Brownstein’s livid guitar.

There is no right way to grieve, but it feels as though shock and sorrow have only made Sleater-Kinney seize their day and prioritise.

The artistic flair of The Center Won’t Hold and the tightness of Path of Wellness are still present, but they find a comfortable position between the two that feels somewhat familiar and certainly natural for Sleater-Kinney.

Tucker’s titanic vibrato and ferocious conviction are the anchors of Little Rope. She has audibly risen to the occasion, in every note, to support her friend.

While loss, pain and connection have always defined Sleater-Kinney’s work, Little Rope feels especially imbued with an emotional acuity and intensity, one that I don’t think they have captured this potently since “One More Hour.” For all of this, Path of Wellness did set the bar low, and Little Rope has some sloppy writing and one too many lackluster moments. .... Despite these shortcomings, Little Rope shows us that Sleater-Kinney are well worth sticking with.

There is no doubt that Little Rope is much more successful than those recent efforts [2019's The Center Won't Hold and 2021's Path of Wellness], but it never fully pushes the artists in new directions or completely recaptures the group's immense past magic. That said, as an outlet for one of the best duos to deal with smothering grief and loss, it is a blessing that it exists at all.

In the end, Sleater-Kinney’s ongoing evolution may divide opinion, but there’s no doubt that this is a band that still has important stories to tell.

Sleater-Kinney strike a finer balance between their established punk sound and the New Wave references that gummed up recent records. [Jan 2024, p.36]

Tucker and Brownstein deserve credit for continuing to take risks and experiment with Sleater-Kinney’s established sound, resulting in another solid effort in an unexpectedly fruitful late period.

Sleater-Kinney’s decade-spanning songwriting style feels the same. Give us the electrifying assault and brutal guitar tones to fill those tiny cracks now present in our hearts. Give us a little more rope.