Kathleen Hanna has spent her life challenging the dominant discursive structures of power, both in the music industry and generally. As lead singer of Bikini Kill, and a protagonists in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s riot grrl punk scene, Hanna’s confronting public and lyrical statements on issues of sexuality, violence and gender politics provided the inspiration for musicians – especially female musicians – across the world, and a talisman for the contemporary punk movement.
“I think it’s definitely possible for pop music to bring up interesting conversations,” Hanna says, when I ask her if it’s necessary to remain outside the dominant political institutions in order to be heard. “Most things you see in the mainstream were originally created in the underground – but that’s OK, because people in the underground have unlimited creativity. So you’ll still have these great ideas being ripped off, over and over.”
Hanna cut her political teeth in the Washington State capital Olympia in the ‘80s. Olympia was home to Evergreen State College, where Hanna had moved to study photography. “In Olympia you had K Records, and later Kill Rock Stars, and the fact that you had this do-it-yourself community in the town inspired me more than the college did,” Hanna says.
Evergreen College was the location for one of Hanna’s regular confrontations with authority when staff at the college took down Hanna’s photographic exhibition one night, without her prior knowledge – and, inadvertently, provided the catalyst for Hanna’s grassroots political activities.
“I guess they found [the exhibition] too provocative – it was a feminist work,” Hanna says. “So me and my friend started this photographic exhibition downtown in a garage. So it was actually the college’s attitude, which was a bit oppressive, that led me to be more of a rebel,” Hanna laughs.
Hanna went on to team up with fellow Evergreen State College student Toby Vail, Kathi Wilcox and Billy Karren in Bikini Kill. At the time Bikini Kill was formed, the United States was still languishing in the conservative political climate led by Ronald Reagan, and continued under George Bush Senior. Hanna admits that riot grrl’s political edge was in some respects a reaction to the prevailing political mood; it was also reviving punk’s original provocative aesthetic.
“I remember being policies being passed around that time that were putting girls who’d been raped in their homes, back in their homes to try to keep the family together,” Hanna says. “And you had the war on drugs – totally insane things like that, that unfairly targeted minorities. We were at a boiling point – we were being told that feminism didn’t exist, we were seeing racism all around us.”
Hanna and her contemporaries turned to the punk scene and found it compromised by the same reactionary values that permeated the straight community.
“So we thought ‘what’s the alternative to the alternative’,” Hanna says. “There were definitely a lot of good things that happened in the ‘80s and ‘90s – rock against racism, and a lot of good bands – but there was this overriding straight white male type of mentality. And I think we were reacting against that and looking at older punks in the ‘70s and early ‘80s and realising there was all this female involvement back then that got erased – Poly Styrene, Alice Bag, The Raincoats and The Slits. We thought, ‘Hey, this is what punk is all about!’”
Bikini Kill eventually folded in 1997, not long after releasing the band’s final album, Reject All American. As the band began to fall apart around her, Hanna conceived of a solo project that continued the punk ethos of Bikini Kill, but enable her to stretch into more electronic music territory.
“I don’t really know where the ‘Julie Ruin’ name came from, though I’ve always liked the name Julie,” Hanna says. “I felt that I’d been vilified in the punk scene – I’d got a lot of attention for riot grrl, and that had kind of pulled me out of my community, which was really painful. So I made up this person called Julie Ruin who was a lot stronger than me and who didn’t give a shit, and who just wanted to make music.”
The Punk Singer documentary described Hanna’s battle with Lyme disease, the serious illness that precipitated Hanna’s withdrawal from the music scene. Now having received stabilising treatment for the disease, Hanna has revived the Julie Ruin concept and with it, provided Hanna with the strength to return to music and to continue to explore her punk philosophy.
“I’ve always considered punk an idea and not a genre,” Hanna says. “I feel a big part of that idea is that people don’t take their entertainment from corporations. People can take it upon themselves to create their own music, and their own communities, and to use music and art to connect with each other.”
And, Hanna says, punk can be anywhere – even in a superficially banal retail setting. “Punk as an idea can be when you’re standing in line at the airport trying to get a bottle of water and some businessman walks in front of everyone and slaps his money on the counter – that one person who says, ‘You can’t do that!’ That’s a punk rock moment!” Hanna laughs.
BY PATRICK EMERY