When writing music after a family tragedy, Carrie Brownstein says, “everything had to rear its head.” Photograph by Holly Andres “When it comes to albums, there is the myth of aboutness, the notion that some inciting event—a death, a breakup—defines a project in its entirety,” Hanif Abdurraqib writes, in a probing new piece on the longtime punk band Sleater-Kinney. Yet for the duo of Carrie Brownstein and Corin Tucker, their latest release, “Little Rope,” emerged out of a moment of great personal tragedy. “Everything got spikier. Or sicker. Or prettier,” Brownstein explains, talking about making the album in the wake of the sudden death of her mother and stepfather. “Everything had to take on its final form. Nothing could have been stuck in the middle.” Grief became, for Brownstein and Tucker, another shared experience in the artistic bond that has formed during decades of collaboration. “Sometimes Carrie would say, ‘I just need you to sing. Can you just sing for me?’ ” Tucker says. “And I would say yes. It was out of necessity.” Support The New Yorker’s award-winning journalism. Subscribe today » |
No comments:
Post a Comment