The Riott Grrrl Movement and its impact on modern rock music

By Grace Koennecke, Editor in Chief

Illustration courtesy of Lauren Adams

In a political climate where women’s autonomy and rights are limited in the United States, it’s clear that women are experiencing more setbacks than ever in this current presidential administration. Arguably, one of the biggest setbacks for women in recent times has notoriously been the overturn of Roe v. Wade in 2022. 

Since then, women have been denied access to basic human rights, particularly when it comes to reproductive healthcare. As of now, 41 states have abortion bans in effect with only limited exceptions, according to the Guttmacher Institute. In Southern states like Florida and Georgia, abortion is banned after six weeks of pregnancy, an astonishing fact to consider when most women find out they are pregnant between four and seven weeks of gestation. Alarmingly, the Guttmatcher Institute also reports states like Alabama, Arkansas, Idaho, Indiana, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi, North Dakota, Oklahoma, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, and West Virginia have totally banned abortion, which means many women are either forced to travel to other states to receive access to an abortion, or have to carry out their pregnancy, even if they are facing health complications or were sexually assaulted. That’s 13 states. With little to no effort by those in power to take into consideration how dangerous it is to have such restraints in place, it’s clear that women are being subjected once again to enduring the consequences of conservatism in politics. 

Beyond stripping away a woman’s reproductive rights, there has been a noticeable shift in the culture within our country in how women are treated and perceived because of this new wave of conservatism. While it’s common knowledge amongst women that sexism and degradation are still at the forefront of everyday life, it seems as though women have increasingly become the targets of hate for men to project onto. 

For example, President Trump said “Quiet, piggy” to a female journalist during a press conference on Air Force One in November of last year after she tried to ask him a question related to the Epstein files. A few weeks later, Trump lashed out at another female journalist after the attack of two National Guard members in Washington, D.C. by an Afghan national who was let into the country by the Biden administration and granted asylum under the Trump administration. After the journalist tried to ask, “So why do you blame the Biden administration-,” Trump responded, “Because they let him in. Are you stupid? Are you a stupid person? Because they came in on a plane, along with thousands of other people that shouldn’t be here, and you’re just asking questions because you’re a stupid person.”

These examples alone show how even our president doesn’t seem to respect women or the fields they work in, setting an example publicly for those who watch him that it’s okay to disrespect and question a woman’s intelligence. It’s important to note that the women Trump attacked work for major news organizations in the country, Bloomberg News and CBS, and it’s clear that their intelligence and experience landed them jobs in covering the Trump administration. However, it sadly doesn’t seem to matter how accomplished or intelligent a woman may be, as men in power are promoting unfair and inaccurate depictions of women, using words like “piggy” and “stupid” to reduce women and to make us feel inferior.

In a world where it feels like so much is stacked against women, music is luckily a medium women have and are continuing to use to spark a revolution outside of politics, providing a sense of unity for female audiences that are outraged and hurt by the actions of men and the anti-feminist society we are left trying to fight in. 

When I sat down to write my next article for “Her On Record,” I knew I wanted to focus on a crucial movement in music history that promoted feminism, and of course, revolution. As someone who has grown increasingly frustrated with my position as a woman in this world, particularly in the United States, it only fuels me to continue to uplift women and see our contributions to society and culture, and thus write about women’s issues that many still find uncomfortable to talk about.

In particular, it’s only right to highlight the feat that was the Riot Grrrl Movement of the 1990s, a key movement that promoted feminism in the punk rock scene. I was first introduced to this movement in music history when I read “Rebel Girl: My Life as a Feminist Punk” by Kathleen Hanna, the lead singer of punk bands Bikini Kill and Le Tigre, a few summers ago. Before reading her memoir, I didn’t really know who Hanna was or the significance of the Riot Grrl Movement, but as I dove into her world, I realized how monumental of a person Hanna is as one of the pioneers of this movement, and how important punk music has been for helping women find their voices and speak about the injustices we face daily.

According to The New York Public Library, the Riot Grrl Movement began in the early 1990s in Olympia, WA, where women were holding meetings to discuss how to address sexism in the punk music scene. The women came to the decision that they wanted to start a “girl riot” against the current backdrop of society that they believed offered no validation of the female experience. The library states that the movement believed in women actively engaging in cultural production, creating their own music and fanzines rather than following existing materials. As the movement gained more traction, bands that joined it used their music to promote feminist and anti-racist viewpoints, with Bikini Kill, Batmobile, Sleater-Kinney, and Heavens to Betsy serving as some of the major groups to gain popularity through creating music that dealt with difficult topics. The bands didn’t shy away from writing lyrics about uncomfortable experiences women encounter, such as rape, incest, and eating disorders.

By the late 1990s, the Riot Grrl Movement became more mainstream, with one of the key slogans seen in several fanzines, “girl power,” being appropriated by girl groups in pop music, such as the Spice Girls. While some women in the movement claimed this shift to cause the end, since its ideals began to transcend genres and move into mainstream pop music, many others argue that the movement still hasn’t ended, with bands from the 2000s and on continuing to honor its significance and legacy in music history and pop culture.

Yes, I’m one of the women who argue the Riot Grrrl Movement in many ways still exists, especially as women’s rights and autonomy continue to be seen as non-negotiables with men in power. Through reading about Hanna’s role in the Riottt Grrl Movement, as well as the journey that led her to punk music, it allowed me to expand my music taste by actively seeking out female musicians who had the “Riot Grrrl” spirit. This has introduced me to many female-led punk and rock bands that have opened my mind, and my ears, to edgier and more realistic lyricism, production, and themes within their music.

In recent years, there has been a rise in many female-led punk and rock bands that are not shying away from revealing the hardships of sexism. One of my personal favorites includes Philadelphia rock band Mannequin Pussy, and I really believe their music is carrying on the legacy of the Riott Grrrl Movement.

What I love about this band is how they encapsulate the collective rage we as women feel. Lead singer Maria Dabice’s voice pierces through the void, inviting female listeners in to vent and release the stress, frustration, anger, and isolation they feel. This band reminds women that we are capable and powerful, stronger together as we band through the hardships placed on us by men and heteronormative institutions.

One of my favorite Mannequin Pussy songs that I think perfectly captures the collective rage of all women is “Loud Bark.” I discovered this band during my junior year of college through the music publication I worked for (shoutout ACRN!), and I became obsessed with Dabice. I was struck by her vocal abilities, as well as her lyrical genius, and this song is a strong example of it.

“Loud Bark” is a song about wanting to express your femininity but finding frustration in it. It’s also, to me, about the animalistic tendencies women tend to be shamed for, particularly when talking about sex.

“Not a single motherfucker who has tried to lock me up / Could get the collar 'round my neck / Or find one that's big enough / I'm a waste of a woman, but I taste like success / I keep all of my sugar where I know you like it best,” opens the song, with Dabice comparing herself to a dog, hence the collar metaphor.

The collar symbolizes Dabice’s frustration with feeling forced into domesticity and submission in past relationships and in current societal institutions. In her vocals, you can hear her voice begin to grow louder as she expresses these feelings, similar to the way a dog would when feeling threatened or played with. Dabice feels like she has to lash out in order to defend herself from the world, which she believes makes others shame her for acting unlike an “acceptable” woman should: quiet, subdued, polite.

Dabice’s vocal delivery is also intentional because it symbolizes an orgasmic release as well, a creative touch that allows the song to be a safe space to express her sexual desires. As her voice grows louder and louder, the build-up is intense and pleasurable in a way that I’ve never seen a singer pull off before. This choice symbolizes to me that women shouldn’t feel embarrassed about finding pleasure and wanting to explore their sexuality.

The last line in this first set of lyrics alludes to Dabice and her band’s success, but also her promiscuity, a trait that’s still seen as shameful as well. Unlike the “acceptable” women of society, Dabice uses her sexuality to tease listeners that women can use it to find power and validation, even if some people see it as unacceptable and unconventional.

From there, the chorus is a release. Dabice’s vocals grow into screams, with her repeatedly saying, “I got a loud bark, deep bite / A loud bark, deep bite.” I think “loud bark, deep bite,” which refers to how many women have chosen not to stay complicit when it comes to the mistreatment and inequality we have always struggled against, thanks to societal norms. Many women’s movements, such as the Women’s Suffrage Movement at the end of the 19th century, have proven that we want an equal world, and there have been plenty of reminders for men to see that women will fight for the rights we deserve.

I think these lyrics symbolize how women can harness their power and find strength in it, and that women have always left a mark on society through taking action and voicing their opinions. Mannequin Pussy wrote these words to show that women can’t be ignored, no matter how hard those in power aim to silence and shame us. The band also poses the idea that women can also embrace their masculine side, using the dog motif to insist that women are allowed to be physically and mentally tough, as well as feel comfortable in their animalistic desires.

The lyrics are also used by Dabice to argue that women can be dominant in sexual situations, and that it’s not always a man’s role to dictate how they can pleasure a woman. She goes on to suggest this in the next set of lines: “I want to be a danger, I want to be adored / I want to walk around at night while being ignored / I’m such a romantic, I’m such a fucking tease / I keep you in my sugar and you eat it on your knees.”

Dabice points out how she wishes women could be respected, with many usually only finding respect through sexual gratification. She also wishes she could be treated like a man, alluding to how women still don’t feel safe in current society, even in everyday circumstances like walking alone at night, which most men don’t have to think twice about. 

The song ends with a repeat of the chorus, but again, the emotional release of this song has been a huge inspiration since I first discovered it. It’s one of the first times I’ve listened to a song that truly gets what the female experience is like, and I commend Mannequin Pussy for writing songs that hold firmly in the belief that women should be respected and empowered. Their music is proof to me that the values of the Riott Grrl Movement have passed on to this newer era of rock music, and Dabice is a lead singer, I believe, who is one of the many women reigniting the conversations we should be having about the female experience in music.

So, if you’re feeling hopeless as a woman in this political climate, remember that there are women out there fighting for us in and outside of music, and they have been doing so for centuries. 

Through music, women have been able to create a sense of community and camaraderie that helps us make sense of the female experience, allowing the collective rage we feel to be harnessed and reconfigured into unforgettable acts of expression.