Sleater-Kinney

Like the political but poppy punk rock that prefaced them, Sleater-Kinney writes protest music with a racing pulse — blustery battle calls free of hot air or rigid, dogmatic lyrics. So don't blame us if you start singing along to a scathing song about faux patriotism ("Combat Rock") or rush hour rage ("Jumpers"). Sleater's swinging-pendulum hooks made you do it.

In the ten years since their scorching, self-titled debut, Sleater-Kinney has demanded our attention by moving from mid-fi feminist anthems — full of unmitigated rage and a barbed-wire frontline of dueling guitars — to bristly synth-pop ("Dance Song '97"), poisonous girl-group balladry ("A Quarter to Three"), and even fuzz-toned classic rock ("Everything").

Sleater-Kinney's own legacy is so looming it's easy to forget that the trio sprung from the first-gen riot grrrl groups Excuse 17 and Heavens to Betsy. Hear history as it was made, including early recordings, some glaring rarities, the rollicking Quasi side project of drummer Janet Weiss, and a cheeky cover of Hedwig's "Angry Inch" with Fred Schneider of the B-52's.

Far beyond a simple figurehead for the riot grrrl movement, Sleater-Kinney remains an indie rock institution to this day — one of those groups critics and cultish fans consistently greet with open, anxious ears. And what a spiraling trajectory the group's career has taken: Arms flailing at first, attracting and upsetting audiences like Bikini Kill did, and later distilling their furor into dreamlike works of conscious and catchy songs for college campuses and discriminating listeners of the punk, indie, and prickly pop variety.