Give Up The Roast is a column that collides delicious caffeine with wild thrashing a la a bi-monthly coffee and punk album pairing — the perfect combination for perking you up during that midday slump. Here, columnist Shannon Shreibak investigates all of the notes, from fruit rinds and spices to perfect fifths smothered in grinding distortion. So come on all you coffee shop novelists, DIY freaks, and connoisseurs of fine taste — keep your mind here in the GUTR and catch a buzz with us.
We’ve hopped, skipped and thrashed our way from Black Flag and Stumptown Cold Brew to Excuse 17 and Olympia’s finest cup o’ joe for this installment of Give Up The Roast. Now would be the time to rouse your angry and caffeinated inner-feminist for some good ol’ patriarchy bashing and speaker blasting.
BEHIND THE CURTAIN (BACKGROUND)
For a genre whose bubble burst when I was a mere idea of a human being, riot grrrl has surmounted time and tradition to become one of the most significant genres to both my life and the hardcore zeitgeist. Growing up in a small, sheltered Indiana town, my cultural tunnel vision was widened through the snippets of pop culture that resonated with me. When I first heard Kathleen Hanna call upon fellow lady power-mongers to get “to the front,” redefine a sexual-social movement already riding its third wave, and exist feverishly and unapologetically, I found a piece of myself that had been waiting to revolt. Throw in a thirst for social justice, crushing guitar riffs, and defiantly saccharine vocal stylings and you’ve got a time-tested and legendary piece of musical rebellion.
For this week’s GUTR, I wanted to pay respects to a riot grrrl band that garners a dull ring of recognition but is not exhausted in regards to discussion of the genre. After all, aren’t we all here to learn a little somethin’ somethin’ about music and coffee? Out of a desire to scratch beneath the surface of riot grrrl and to publicly proclaim my undying girl-love for Carrie Brownstein, I set my sights and laid my ears on Excuse 17. Staying true to the gloriously yowly band’s Olympia, Washington roots, Batdorf & Bronson’s Capitol Blend is this week’s brew in review.
BRASS TACKS (THE COFFEE)
Larry and Cherie Challain opened Dancing Goats Coffee Bar in Olympia, Washington, half a decade before “riot grrrl stormed punk’s boys’ club.” It wouldn’t be long before the Challain’s inventory (and ambition) outgrew the small café and became Batdorf & Bronson Coffee Roasters. One of the anchoring blends of B&B’s repertoire is their Capitol Blend, a caffeinated homage to the lush expanse of Olympia. Pegged as the roaster’s figurative “Long Island Iced Tea” due to its sourcing from every growing region, it manages to pack the same punch as the cocktail. The Capitol boasts an assertive, chocolatey nose that is both comforting and bold. The brew is front-loaded with acidity but briskly mellows into notes of marzipan and berries, establishing itself as fantastic everyday brew.
WHITE NOISE (THE MUSIC)
While Batdorf & Bronson spread the gospel of great coffee done right in Olympia and beyond, Excuse 17 preached grrrl power and musical discord. The world seems to have renewed its affinity for Sleater-Kinney, but what many forget (or worse, don’t even realize) is that the three groundbreakers of S-K blasted through basements long before the trio’s infancy. At the height of riot grrrl’s reign in the Pacific Northwest, singer-guitarists Carrie Brownstein and Becca Albee joined forces with the the austere backbeats hammered out by CJ Phillips on drums in 1993. The cut below, “This Is Not Your Wedding Song,” is off their 1995 debut album Such Friends Are Dangerous.
The constant tug-of-war between Brownstein’s polarized vocal stylings, oscillating between calculated sing-song verses and eardrum-pummeling wails, sears through droning guitars and staccato drum fills. Crushing every lyric and riff and drum head to dust, Excuse 17 was a band that exerted a raw power that could leave their male contemporaries quivering on the sidelines. The band collapsed almost as inexplicably as their formation, but — whether it’s riot grrl or the finest cup of coffee — you can’t forget something that always felt like a part of you.
Column by Shannon Shreibak. Go forth and be loud with her on Twitter @ShannonShreibak.