a loss

well, folks, yesterday we got some pretty awful news, at least for those of us who love really fucking good rock and roll:

"After more than a decade of making impassioned, empowered punk rock, Sleater-Kinney have decided to go on 'indefinite hiatus.'"

yep, one of my favorite bands is done. apparently, the show i'm seeing in august at webster hall is their next-to-last. should be interesting.

what sucks about s-k breaking up is that, far from what most 11-year-old bands do, they just put out the best album of the career, if not one of the best rock albums i've ever heard. in an era pockmarked by avril lavigne, ashlee and jessica simpson, and a horrible new liz phair, s-k was one of the few remaining rock bands i know that actually surprise me with their invention, their talent.

but, like most artists i know, their talent comes with more than a hint of darkness. it's the way, i think, that artists learn to balance that darkness, harness it, that makes us able to survive. the most talented people i know--the composers, writers, musicians--are happy people for the most part, yet share the same dark undercurrent, a sliver of mercury that runs just below the surface. they create by tapping into it, use it for their humor, their pathos, and then are able to put it away.

i was just talking to ben yesterday about being able to write better when i'm in a darker mood. he agreed that his invention is better when he's feeling dark. i suggested that maybe, before i write, i should just put boys for pele on repeat for half an hour. because writing about kittens frolicking in wheat fields under a rainbow sky never really has been my forte.