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We weren't even supposed to see Le Tigre together, but after seeing them in Manchester on June 5th I couldn't pass on the opportunity to see them again in Paris! It was ridiculously short notice, too, because the show was on the 11th.

----- and I were expecting a total murder-hotel based on the reviews, but other than the abysmal customer service (like, I'm not being a dick, they tried to scam us out of an extra 70€ and weren't even really committed to the lie) it was surprisingly fine. Clean rooms, warm water in the showers, no screaming at night. Solid 4 stars for the money spent.

We were way too early for Screaming Females, mostly because once we'd dropped our stuff at the hostel we... didn't have any plans in Paris. We did get free mochi though, which was an incredible win.

Photo of Marissa Paternoster playing guitar and singing in a bar, the lighting is very pink and purpleThey launch into song as soon as they get on stage, and I'm immediately blown away by her energy. She's not even looking at us, her eyes are down for the majority of her set and it never comes off as anything but powerful.

Her speaking voice is at complete odds with her presence during songs: quiet, high-pitched, fast, bordering on a mumble. In between two songs, she tells us that she's "out of banter", and to just speak to each other. She has not been engaging in what could reasonably be called banter. This rules.

We spend the better part of the next day waiting for Le Tigre, walking through parks and bookstores and lamenting our lack of funds as if this isn't a direct result of our obsession with live music. At this point, my knees are killing me, and I make us turn back several times when a hill seems too steep. It's worth it when we get to the venue and there are only 4 people queueing. Photo of Marissa Paternoster playing guitar and singing in a bar, the lighting is very pink and purpleIt's about 3pm at this point. We sit down and start the wait.

It was way too hot to be queueing, but ---- got us bubble tea, and someone higher in the queue gave me ice cream, which was genuinely a life-saver.
I love when there's solidarity between people waiting for a gig, the energy and anticipation for something we're all insane enough to be lined up in sweltering heat to see up close. The way it builds when security comes out. The grins when they start letting us in.
This was a really good show, in that regard, because there was just no running to get barricade, people just sort of sat down where they were and waited together. The audienced felt a bit older than the Manchester show, more mullets than green hair, and this may have contributed.

Here's what I can tell you about Kathleen Hanna: she's small, which is accentuated by the cut of her stage outfits. Her voice is ridiculously powerful. She spends the entire show running, jumping, skipping rope, all without sounding the least bit winded or missing much as a note. She laughs off tech failures and missed starts like there are no stakes, like she's here with us to have a good time and nothing else matters. She's 54. She's the most beautiful woman I've seen in my life.

It's storming outside, and the Trianon is an old building. By the time the encore rolls around, we're getting rained on through poorly-maintained ceilings, and nobody cares. The room is shaking, and when they play their very last song, the crowd is jumping so much the floors are bouncing with us.

Photo of a Le Tigre concert. JD Samson, Johanna Fateman, and Kathleen Hanna are performing in front of a lyrics screen which reads Good luck.