​In the '90s, the explosive riot grrrl movement rolled in, banging on doors of the music industry and inspiring woman all across the globe. As this past summer marked the 20th anniversary of events that brought the feminist crusade to life, many of the original riot grrrls -- now in their 30s and 40s -- are paying tribute through books and films, while younger girls are discovering the scene for the first time.

From her earlier days as a zine creator to being the frontwoman of punk band Bikini Kill, there is no doubt that Kathleen Hanna is the godmother of riot grrrl and a feminist cultural icon. But unfortunately, she's also been a lightning rod for controversy, and five years ago she disappeared from the public eye. As Hanna begins to reemerge with a more open mind about sharing her stories, she has agreed to collaborate with filmmaker and Sister Spit founder Sini Anderson on a biographical documentary titled The Punk Singer.
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The Jazz Gals

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One of the funny things that I find about jazz is that whenever I engage in a conversation about it, 90 percent of the time the talk gravitates toward the men of jazz. Granted, there have been some heavy hitters in the world of jazz, but I feel uneasy walking away with a feeling that the jazz genre is some exclusive boys' club.

Clearly that's a load of bull when you start looking at the fantastic ladies of the scene. Icons like Ella Fitzgerald, Nina Simone, Dinah Washington, and Sarah Vaughan... those four ladies alone are unquestioned royalty.

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Body art by Keegan

​Today might be the Hallmark-inspired Valentine's Day, but Saturday at the Bubble belonged to Janette Valentine and more than 20 other women (and some men who pretended to be) who transformed the venue into a veritable showcase of talent and entertainment.

Trouble With Girls, in its second year, is the Bubble's only woman-centric event. Curated by Shroud Eater bassist and pin-up photographer Janette Valentine, this year's show was a success both in attendence and in artistic scope. Burlesque dancers teased and grrrl bands Angry Pudding and Prettie Please entertained the sizable crowd outside, while vendors and crafty types sold jewelery and artwork inside.

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​There's hardly a day that relies more on gender stereotypes than Valentine's Day. Lingerie, flowers, and expensive dinner tabs, we're told, make Cupid's aim a sure thing. But thankfully, Broward's foremost indie gallery, the Bubble, will offer an alternative to the endless dinner specials and pink balloons that ostensibly appeal to women this time of year.

Instead, the all-female art show "The Trouble With Girls," in its second year at the gallery, will celebrate XX-chromosomes with much more than stuffed animals and Hallmark platitudes -- though there will be some lingerie, compliments of the burlesque dancers and curator Janette Valentine's photography.

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​Propaganda's first Sapphic Thursday seemed like any other night at the hip hangout. Named after the famed lady lover and muse with the mostest, Sappho, the event catered to lesbians and friends of lesbians, and featured the XX-favorite indie-pop duo The State Of.

Propaganda, now under the auspices of Cecil Lundsford of Black Weather Shaman and his partner Justin, hasn't changed that much at all. In fact, the first time I saw the State Of -- a band I've heaped praise on for the last year -- was at Propaganda, when it was Steve Rullman's joint, who, beardless, also happened to be hanging out Thursday. And although the Facebook page claimed Sapphic Thursday as the first lesbian night at the venue, the previous "ladies' night" on Wednesdays wasn't some sexist meat market as is usually the case with ladies' nights, but a noteworthy celebration of X chromosomes loving X chromosomes.

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​County Grind is counting down the best local albums in South Florida. Monitor our progress here.

While the release of the band's full-length debut ThunderNoise won't drop until January, we'd be remiss to ignore the moody three-song EP by the heavy-rockin', dirty riffin' grrrls of Shroud Eater. (Sure, drummer Felipe Torres is a dude, but we'll deal.)

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​Back after its run a decade ago, Lilith Fair hasn't fared so well this time around. Poor ticket sales have plagued the tour, forcing cancellations at 13 spots, including our own in West Palm Beach. But no worries, South Florida! We already have a festival celebrating the XX-chromosomed. Tobacco Road's FemmeFest, which takes place in November and is going on its fourth year, is putting out the call for submissions to stack its lineup. Only rule: Bands must include at least one female.

Those interested should send a bio, band photos, MP3s, affiliated websites, two email addresses, and two phone numbers to Tobacco Road promoter Queen of the Scene at Q_O_T_S@yahoo.com. Past participants have included Ex Norwegian, the State Of, and Astari Nite, all good choices. For me, a dream FemmeFest ticket (that would in some ways be more appealing than the actual Lilith Fair and would probably -- gasp! -- appeal to boys) would include Flees, Shroud Eater, Beings, Sweet Bronco, Amy Shaw, the New, and Zombies! Organize!! I'm daring to dream.

via laceyconner.net.

​Rock of Love mega-bitch/animal hero Lacey Conner is stepping in as the new female vocalist on Lords of Acid's U.S. tour. Surely, this raised a couple of perturbed eyebrows with fans, myself among them. Conner no doubt exhibits the bravado necessary to perform as frontwoman for the raunchy acid-housers. She's also got the industrial-rock vocal chops -- her band Nocturne has toured with groups like the Genitorturers and Pigface.

But there are crucial songs that Conner's larynx just can't pull off, especially "Rough Sex." And it takes some serious sass to sing songs like "Pussy" and "I Sit on Acid," in which the only lyrics are "I wanna sit on your face." She lacks the requisite sex-kitten vibes, no matter how tall her platform boots are, and the right sense of humor to sing a line like "I bring my pussy everywhere I go." So was this a publicity stunt? See video after the jump:

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photo by Justina Villanueva

​Torche really deserves all the credit it gets. Purveyors of sludge thicker than BP's footprint, the underground powergroup has consistently turned out its memorable brand of stonerific pop metal since its debut in 2005. The foursome boasted a pedigree with its original lineup that included members from Floor, Cavity, and Tyranny of Shaw. But in the interest of not introducing South Florida readers to Torche for, well, the gazillionest time, what follows is a bio reduced to a 140-character tweet: sludgy, pop, loosely tuned bass strings. Thunder! Think Melvins, Jawbox, Sabbath. In a word: heavy. D'oh, violence! Quartet becomes trio.


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​It's easy to have a love/hate relationship with Courtney Love. She's a rock star, which inevitably comes with a lot of baggage. We try not to judge, and even relish the theatrics of figures such as Love. But no matter how much I appreciate her quasi-subversive antics, she never fails to be annoying.

Well, after a long musical hiatus, she's back and playing Friday at the Fillmore. I have tickets. But after this review from the Washington Post, covering a disastrous concert in D.C., I'm asking myself: Am I going to see Hole to relive youthful magic moments? Or am I really hoping to see one of the infamous meltdowns first-hand? Furthermore, is the possibility of the most epic of meltdowns worth the ticket price?

Here's an exerpt from the article by David Malitz:

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