REVIEW: Bikini Kill @ Franklin Music Hall

Oct 8, 2024Oct 8, 2024 Ava Mosby 0 Comments Franklin music hall, show review, temple university, whip radio

Photos By: Kira Keniston

Written By: Kira Keniston

On September 10th, Franklin Music Hall was on fire with the electrifying energy of Bikini Kill. The legendary riot grrrl band returned to Philadelphia, delivering a raw, fierce, and defiant performance, just like the music that made them punk rock icons. The night was a celebration of feminist punk, a testament to the enduring relevance of their message, and an unforgettable experience for everyone who packed the hall.

From the moment the crowd began to trickle into the venue, there was a palpable sense of anticipation. Punks of all ages, some who had been there from the band’s early days, mingled with younger fans eager to witness the band’s explosive return. The room buzzed with the DIY aesthetic Bikini Kill helped shape: patched denim jackets, bold eyeliner, and combat boots—everyone was ready to revel in the rebellious spirit the band is known for.

A Bikini Kill fan stands at the barricade, her face glowing with excitement, rocking a handmade copy of Kathleen Hanna’s iconic phone shirt. The anticipation in her eyes and the crowd’s energy around her capture the pure joy of live music.

As the lights dimmed and the first “Double Dare Ya” notes blasted through the speakers, the venue erupted. Kathleen Hanna, the face of the riot grrrl movement, took the stage with a commanding and effortless presence. Her voice—sharp, biting, and still dripping with the same urgency as decades ago—cut through the crowd like a war cry. It was clear from the first song that time had not dulled the band’s edge.

Hanna’s raw energy was perfectly matched by Tobi Vail’s relentless drumming, whose beats drove the ferocity of the set forward. Kathi Wilcox held down the bass with deep, thudding intensity, while Sara Landeau’s guitar work brought a wild edge to the mix. Together, the four created an unrelenting wall of sound that was chaotic and precise, rattling the bones of the venue and everyone inside.

The setlist was a carefully crafted blend of Bikini Kill’s biggest anthems and lesser-known tracks. Classics like “Carnival” and “Feels Blind” ignited the crowd, with fans screaming along to every word, while deeper cuts from Pussy Whipped and Reject All American gave the die-hards in the audience a chance to dive deep into the band’s catalog. Every song felt like a punch—delivered with passion, anger, and the unyielding conviction that has always defined Bikini Kill’s music.

But the night wasn’t just about the music. Hanna used the spaces between songs to speak directly to the crowd, delivering impassioned messages about feminism, equality, and resistance. Her words were as powerful as her performance, a reminder that Bikini Kill has always been about more than just the music—they are a movement. Whether speaking on intersectionality or the importance of solidarity, Hanna kept the mood light with her sharp wit, making the crowd both laugh and cheer in the same breath.

The audience itself was a sight to behold. There was a sense of inclusivity and respect throughout the night, a collective understanding that everyone was part of something bigger. The mosh pit, though wild, was a safe space, a physical manifestation of the riot grrrl ethos: that music should be a place where everyone can let loose and feel seen. During “Rebel Girl,” Hanna invited women and nonbinary folks to scream as loudly as they could, creating a powerful, collective roar that reverberated through the hall.

In a wash of electric purple light, Sara Landeau commands the stage, her guitar an extension of her raw energy and focus. Behind her, the steady pulse of Tobi Vail’s drum beats on, amplifying the unfiltered intensity of the live performance

As the night began to wind down, Bikini Kill saved their most poignant moments for last. Closing with “Rebel Girl” as the encore, the band left the stage as fiercely as they arrived, their energy never waning for a second. The song, with its urgent plea to fight back against despair, felt especially resonant in today’s turbulent times.

Leaving the venue, it was clear that the night had been more than just a concert—it was an act of defiance, a rallying cry for those still fighting for justice and equality. Bikini Kill’s return to the stage proved that their message is timeless, their energy undiminished. For anyone lucky enough to have been there, the show was a reminder that punk is still a space for rebellion, empowerment, and, above all, solidarity.

Bikini Kill is back, and they’re just as loud, fierce, and important as ever.