Grrrl talk

Feminism was established so that unattractive, ugly women could have easy access to mainstream society.

-- Rush Limbaugh

Redefine feminism so it includes you.

-- Free To Fight!

Nineteen ninety-five certainly didn't seem like the Year of the Woman. The feminist-baiting Limbaugh Republicans lorded it over Congress under the leadership of Newt Gingrich, Hillary Clinton took the hint and started baking cookies instead of speaking her mind, and, thanks to detective Mark Fuhrman, the biggest media event of the year was transformed from a real-life drama about misogyny and domestic abuse into a nasty exploitation of America's great racial divide. In music, where at least it seemed there were more women than ever making noise, one had to wonder what had become of the riot grrrls of '94. Had another promising underground rebellion been rendered impotent by the glare of the media or discouraged by the tenor of the times?

Well, as my mom always used to say, when the kids are making a lot of noise, then you know everything's fine -- it's only when they quiet down that you need to worry, because silence means they're up to something. And if Free To Fight! -- a compilation CD and booklet on the Portland (Oregon) label Candy-ass that features music by Team Dresch, Lois Maffeo, Rebecca Gates of the Spinanes, Fifth Column, Heavens to Betsy, and others as well as information and anecdotes about self-defense -- is any indication, then my mom was right. The burst of rebellious energy that coalesced around the term "riot grrrl" is being channeled in at least one powerfully pragmatic direction that, like L7's "Rock for Choice" organization, uses music as the focal point for a grassroots movement.

The brainchild of Jody "Coyote" Bleyle, who sings and plays guitar in the lesbian punk band Team Dresch, and two friends of hers who teach self-defense (Staci Cotler and Anna Lo Bianco), Free To Fight! steers clear of overt political rhetoric. The immediate aim, aside from compiling some excellent tracks by underground women artists, is to encourage any women who buy the disc/booklet to defend themselves physically and verbally against sexual assault and harassment. (It should be noted that the 1993 rape and murder of Mia Zapata, who was the singer in Seattle's Gits, has made self-defense training a very real issue for women in the Northwest music scene.) The long-term goal is to fund a Free To Fight! self-defense/rock tour in '96 that will spread the word. (Team Dresch and Bikini Kill have a tentative date booked at T.T. the Bear's Place on March 2.)

Like those old how-to albums that would teach the mambo, the merengue, and other exotic dances through verbal instruction and music, the Free To Fight! disc features spoken self-defense information before each song. Listeners are lectured on the basics of self-defense and then treated, for example, to a raucous dose of spirited guitar punk by Team Dresch, which works well as a backdrop for practicing high-kicks to an attacker's groin.

The songs aren't necessarily about self-defense. Fifth Column's raw and thrashing "Don't," which is lifted from their debut CD 36C (K), angrily lists the places that a woman can't go without fear of sexual assault, but Team Dresch's "Song for Anne Bannon" is actually a humorous ode to lesbians freaking straight folks out by ogling women in supermarkets ("Hey that girl's looking at my butt/Wait, is that a girl or boy or what?/You're just the subject of our test/A little form of intimidation called lesbian experimentation"). And the songs aren't all punk, either. Maffeo's "St. What's Her Name" is tuneful guitar pop, Gates's "Witness" is a wistful and beautiful ballad, and both Mizzery and Azteca X weigh in with smooth groovin' hip-hop.

But the 76-page booklet cuts right to the chase with everything from instructions on where to hit an attacker (eyes, throat, groin, knees) and how to make a fist to statistics on rape and domestic violence; from recipes for "Lisa's Supergirl Cookies" and homemade smoke bombs to comics, poetry, and first-hand accounts of sexual abuse and harassment. Even though you won't find many outright references to feminism in the booklet or on the CD, the project ultimately amounts to redefining feminism as something cool or -- better yet -- practical, for a generation of young women who might not feel any connection with the mainstream politics of traditional feminism. The introduction is blunt about the fact that "this material is intended for use by women and girls only," but Bleyle and her partners are savvy enough to know that taking on the semiotic baggage of terms like "feminism" and "riot grrrl" only makes it easier for the media to diffuse the impact of a cause by exploiting its novelty value. Yet if the feminist tenet that the personal is political holds, then it's only logical that the defense of one's personal space is tantamount to the defense of one's political turf. And that's the real point and power of Free To Fight!