Sleater-Kinney was founded by Tucker and Brownstein in 1994 and was active until a hiatus in 2006, later reuniting in 2014.
“The note bend emulates the human experience so perfectly,” she continues. “It’s not static. You can be in one spot and have to bend to an experience. And I love that about guitar, that it can go in and out of these static moments.”
Of course, Sleater-Kinney’s music doesn’t really contain static moments, exactly—there might be quieter sections here and there, but even then, it’s fervent and kinetic. And, as Brownstein and co-bandleader/guitarist Corin Tucker have been in the punk scene for over 30 years, they know how to write in a way that not only captures the spirit of the genre, but expands its dimensions.
Brownstein and Tucker have always shared the roles of guitarist and vocalist in Sleater-Kinney, but on Little Rope, Tucker took on more vocal responsibilities than in the past.
Little Rope opens in the eye of an electrical storm on “Hell,” with a calm introduction that soon shifts to a wailing, mid-tempo upheaval. As the album continues, it speaks in elemental punk with a helping of pop-rock savvy, but when you’re fully in tune with it, it’s more like walking through a home that’s being consumed by a chemical fire. The flames are explosions of blue and green, and it smells like burning wood and acetate, but as you walk through unharmed, you realize it’s all been expertly staged. “The thing you fear the most will hunt you down,” the duo soothsays on “Hunt You Down,” as Brownstein later confides in the verse, “Sorrow hides outside the door disguised as luck / It looks me in the eye / It seems to know me.” More colors in the fire are heard in “Say It Like You Mean It,” with its catchy refrain belying its heartbreak, and the album’s closer, “Untidy Creature,” which starts heavy and raw before moving into a brief but pensive reflection as Tucker sings, “You built a cage but your measurements wrong.” It’s that kind of prismatic emotional topography that makes it clear how Sleater-Kinney has been going strong for all these years.
“I know what to do with my hands and with my body on guitar. It also is such an act of love to play.”—Carrie Brownstein
The writing of the album, which eventually became their 11th studio full-length, started as far back as 2021. “The first song was ‘Untidy Creature,’” shares Brownstein. “That had a very classic writing process to it, where I have a riff and Corin has a vocal line, and we just meld them together. We are often skeptical of that, because we’ve been doing that for a long time. But it really captured this loss and longing and vulnerability that would end up being very present across the album.”
In the fall of 2022, Tucker and Brownstein had around six or seven songs down, and were planning on writing about five more, when Brownstein received life-altering news. While recording in Los Angeles, she got a call from Tucker—the U.S. Embassy in Italy had been unsuccessfully trying to reach Brownstein and her sister, but managed to connect with Tucker, who is Brownstein’s emergency contact. A few calls later, Brownstein finally got in touch with her sister, who then relayed the message that their mother and stepfather had been killed in a car crash while vacationing in Italy.
In the midst of processing the tragedy, Brownstein decided to stay the course with the making of Little Rope, and found relief in continuing to create music for it. “I just wrote copiously,” she says. “I really needed the routine of it, and to sort of posit myself in time and space. Grief is so incoherent, so disorienting. I needed the songs to be the language that I didn’t have.” (“Hunt You Down” was one of the songs that came after the accident, and was written about it specifically.)
“Grief was unfamiliar,” she adds. “I had never been thrust into it in such a primal way. Suddenly it was such a nascent, uncomfortable feeling for me, and guitar was such an antidote to that. It made me appreciate the instrument for its malleability, for its expressiveness. I started doing all the fundamental things that are so obvious to guitar players. I felt like I was experiencing them in a new way.”
“Grief is so incoherent, so disorienting. I needed the songs to be the language that I didn’t have.”—Carrie Brownstein
Tucker shares, “I could tell that Carrie really wanted to finish the record. She didn’t want to just not have anything to do. So we finished things; I gave her ideas and she would sit and rework things all day long, eight hours a day. That became the pathway for how we dealt with what had happened.
“In a way it added to the album’s sense of purpose,” Tucker continues, “of feeling like, ‘Can we make this world strong enough to handle life’s ups and downs? Can we make this outlet enough of a joy and also enough of a container to handle your worst moments?’”
Carrie Brownstein's Gear
When songwriting, Brownstein and Tucker are suspicious of the songs that come easily, and those don’t always make it onto their albums.
Photo by Tim Bugbee/tinnitus photography
Guitars
- 1972 Gibson SG
- 1973 Guild S-100
- 1977 Fender Thinline Telecaster
- 2014 Old Style Guitar Shop custom-built semi-hollow
Amps
- Fender Deluxe Reverb
Effects
- Klon Centaur
- ZVEX Super Hard On
- EarthQuaker Devices White Light
- Roland Double Beat
- Eventide PitchFactor
- Strymon TimeLine
- Maestro Fuzz-Tone
- Catalinbread Belle Epoch
Strings & Picks
- Ernie Ball Power Slinky
- Jim Dunlop .6 mm
Brownstein taking solace in the guitar also meant reducing her contributions to vocals, as singing felt too vulnerable for her at the time. As a result, Tucker took on more of those responsibilities than in the past. “It made me dig deeper and find a more passionate and diverse range of singing styles to bring variety to the album,” says Tucker.
For the album’s production, Brownstein and Tucker worked with John Congleton (St. Vincent, Swans, Mountain Goats), who pushed Tucker to reach a “higher emotional peak” with her voice. “There was just an atmosphere that [created] a need for a strong intensity with the performances,” Tucker shares.
“Say It Like You Mean It” was one song in particular that required some additional effort. “John’s reaction [to my vocal part] was like, ‘I don’t think that’s really strong enough.’ Which of course made me really, um, frustrated,” she laughs. “So I just summoned my patience and said, ‘Alright, let me think about it.’” The next day, she came back with an idea of singing the melody in a higher register. “The crescendo of the song then had a larger trajectory. It had somewhere else to go.”
“In a way it added to the album’s sense of purpose of feeling like, ‘Can we make this world strong enough to handle life’s ups and downs?’”—Corin Tucker
When it comes to guitar playing, Tucker doesn’t have much of an emotional connection with gear, while Brownstein, on the other hand, happens to have a passion for it. Her main guitar is a 1972 Gibson SG, “from the dubious and inconsistent Norlin era,” she says. It has a thin neck that makes it more playable for her, and “a smooth tone with a hint of growl.” Another one of her axes is a ’70s Guild S-100. “It always surprises me with its versatility. I think it’s going to be dark and grimy, but then it will have more dimension and levity than that. I also appreciate the vibrato bar on it, which allows things to get ugly and weird.”
Brownstein is the proud owner of a Klon Centaur, along with a Roland Double Beat, Catalinbread Belle Epoch, and Eventide PitchFactor, among a few other pedals. “I would say that distortion is still my favorite. It’s the first language I really understood in terms of guitar—that raw power, that small dose of corrosion,” she elaborates. “I also love chorus, flange, and harmonizers. Basically, things that make the notes thick and rubbery. When we start writing a new album, I usually go pedal shopping. Even if I don’t end up using the effect on the song, I like the way it makes me rethink the guitar and how I play it. I love the way effects pedals can expand your vocabulary and make you think about single notes or melody in a different way.”
Corin Tucker's Gear
While Tucker doesn’t love gear as much as her guitarist cohort, she always uses a 1965 Fender Showman amp head to achieve her Sleater-Kinney tone.
Photo by Tim Bugbee/tinnitus photography
Guitars
- Gibson Les Paul Tribute Goldtop
Amps
- 1965 Fender Showman 2-Channel 85-watt with 4x10 cabinet
Effects
- Catalinbread Formula 5F6
- Eventide H9
- EarthQuaker The Warden
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario .010
- Jim Dunlop Nylon Gray .73 mm
And although Tucker doesn’t have that same connection with her musical equipment, she shares that she’s “created a very specific sound for Sleater-Kinney—a very low-end sound for a guitar.” To achieve that sound, she uses a 1965 Fender Showman 85-watt black-panel amp head with a 4x10 cabinet. Recently, the Fender head was stolen, so she went out and bought the exact same one to replace it.
It’s worth noting that Tucker and Brownstein have been a musical pair for the entirety of Sleater-Kinney’s run, which has spanned 30 years (the band was inactive between 2006 and their reunion in 2014). Before founding it together in 1994, Brownstein was in Excuse 17, and Tucker, Heavens to Betsy. The latter two groups were part of the early riot grrrl scene that originated in Olympia, Washington, and the greater Pacific Northwest, and while Sleater-Kinney has come to be viewed as riot grrrl as well, Tucker and Brownstein think of themselves as slightly post riot grrrl because of the more specific timeline they were there to witness. When asked about their roles as leaders in the queer punk scene, Brownstein says she sees early-’90s queercore bands like Team Dresch, Tribe 8, and Pansy Division as being more “unabashedly queer at a time when it was so scary to be that.”
“If we do have a voice at all for people, it’s to say, ‘You’re not alone, and we are with you.’”—Corin Tucker
Tucker expresses, “We think it’s really important to speak out about queer and trans issues in the U.S., especially right now when so many of those rights are being rolled back and people are being trespassed upon. If we do have a voice at all for people, it’s to say, ‘You’re not alone, and we are with you.’ And it’s wrong that young people are losing gender-affirming care in some states. We think that’s awful.”
Aside from that advocacy, Brownstein says of being seen as a role model, “The most productive thing I can do to protect any goodwill that I’ve accrued [laughs], is to, one, be kind and compassionate, but also continue to push myself and put things out in the world that hopefully people connect to.”
One of Brownstein’s main guitars is a 1972 Gibson SG, seen here.
Photo by Debi Del Grande
Speaking of that kind of connection, although I have kept my identity a secret until this point in this article, I have been a fan of Sleater-Kinney for years, and shared that with Brownstein at the beginning of our conversation. Other fans out there will be pleased to know how kind she was in her response. She shares, “Fandom keeps you open, porous, and curious, and all the things that should be required as a human being, and certainly will help to ward off cynicism. So I have a lot of empathy and understanding for people who might place that on me, because I do understand that that is a way of guiding yourself through the world. I understand the language of fandom because I turned to it so much, especially when I was young, as a way of explaining my own predicament before I had the words to explain it on my own.”
“It’s part of what I love about music and art, is that it occupies a space that asks more questions than it provides answers.”—Carrie Brownstein
Throughout our conversation, Brownstein displays natural modesty, takes her time to carefully articulate thoughts, and shows sensitivity towards my own self-consciousness while speaking with someone I admire. One subject that comes up is her relationship with spirituality, as she uses the words “prayer” and “meditation” in describing her guitar playing. She shares that it has a new presence in her life after her mother and stepfather’s passing, and elaborates on how it relates to her music.
“I don’t know how you’d be a creative person or a person steeped in music and not have some sense of otherworldliness, like some sense of the liminal or the in-between, or some conversation that transcends the everyday,” she says. “It’s part of what I love about music and art, is that it occupies a space that asks more questions than it provides answers. There’s something spiritual about that.”
YouTube It
Performing live on The SoCal Sound radio show, Brownstein sings lead vox on “Hunt You Down” while Tucker chimes in on the choruses, as both carry the song’s minimalistic, incisive guitar lines.
Used S-100s were a great deal for a long time and attracted other guitarists with less cash and unconventional leanings—among them Pavement’s Steve Malkmus and revered homebrew psychedelicist Bobb Trimble. But none are more famously associated with the S-100 than Soundgarden’s Kim Thayil. Soundgarden’s rise in the 1990s probably had more than a little to do with the model’s reintroduction in the same decade. And were it not for Guild changing hands a few times in recent years, a signature version honoring Thayil probably would have come much sooner. At last, though, the Polara Kim Thayil is here—in a very limited run of 30 (very expensive) USA-built instruments, and the more readily available $899 Indonesia-built version reviewed here. It’s a solid, versatile guitar that readily speaks in voices other than de-tuned heaviness.
Fast Motor Finger
I’ve heard a few folks, including my colleague Zach Wish (who filmed our First Look video for this model) describe this Polara’s mahogany neck as “chunky.” Admittedly, that term leaves room for interpretation, but I think of chunky in terms of early 1950s Telecasters and Les Pauls. And though it can feel a bit wide at the shoulder—the source of chunky perceptions, perhaps—the Thayil Polara’s neck (which Guild calls a “vintage soft U”) is actually quite slim. In fact, it bears an uncanny resemblance to Gibson’s Slim Taper neck, which is actually a little thicker and less squared at the shoulder around frets 1 through 3. The Guild neck shares the same satisfying sense of grip as the slim taper shape up around the 12th fret, though, and on the whole it feels fast and made for ripping. Like the SG, the Polara’s neck also practically begs the player to indulge in Townshend-ian, neck-bending vibrato moves, though there is inevitably a little penalty to pay in terms of tuning stability if you get too enthused. The fretboard radius is a slightly-flatter-than-Gibson 12.5”, and big bends feel effortless right up to the 22nd fret, which, by the way, feels very accessible in spite of what looks like a very sturdy and substantial heel joint. The rosewood fretboard is a lovely piece of lumber, with subtle, pretty, undulating grain that is a nice organic contrast to the pearloid block inlay and the ivory-colored ABS binding.
”The 3-position bias switch can completely recast the sound, feel, and response of a given modulation setting as well as change the interactive dynamics of the controls.“
I’m not a big fan of gold hardware (at least until the plating wears down and takes on a warm glow). But here, against the gloss black polyurethane finish sprayed over the solid mahogany body, it actually looks quite subtle. The Grover Rotomatic 14:1 ratio tuners are, as always, an attractive, substantial-feeling addition to the hardware and feel smooth and accurate. There aren’t too many tuning machines I like more. Signature model signifiers, incidentally, are also subdued and classy—just a few bits of Soundgarden symbology on the truss rod cover and the pickup controls backplate.
More Than Mass
Kim Thayil is rightly associated with de-tuned Sabbath/Melvins chord thuggery. And his namesake Polara dishes such tones pretty effortlessly. Hook it up to a Sovtek Big Muff and drop-D riffs take on an almost comic sense of swagger. But thick chord tones are not the whole ball of wax. The alnico 2 bridge pickup (rated at 7.10k ohms of resistance) exhibits excellent string-to-string volume balance that lends it punch, but also makes it a great vehicle for jangly sounds. At times you can hear hints of a Rickenbacker Hi-Gain’s tight, ringing voice and it can be brilliantly bright. The alnico 2 neck pickup (rated at 7k ohms) is smooth and thick but retains a bit of the bridge pickup’s jangly personality. The combined voice is often the most satisfying of the three. Together, the pickups sound bright with just enough bass ballast to let a very balanced, widescreen overtone picture shine through. And like the bridge pickup setting, the two combined humbuckers sometimes surprise with how readily they pull in the direction of the Beatles rather than Black Sabbath. Cooler still, you can use the small toggle just forward of the treble volume control to put the two pickups out of phase. Depending on your pick attack and musical context, you can coax tones ranging from filtered, Jerry Garcia-with-wah snap-and-quack to Telecaster sting. The out-of-phase setting rules with fuzz, too—transforming that same Sovtek Big Muff into its super-focused and punkier mid-’60s alter ego. There is one quirk to the out-of-phase setting: Volume attenuation on either pickup can quickly turn those snarling sounds to less massive versions of the in-phase settings. Still, the ability to so totally transform the instrument’s voice with the flick of a little toggle is an endlessly fun source of flexibility.
Though the pickups yield many lovely sounds, there is a little midrange emphasis and haze around the edges that can make them sound a touch boxy, less airy, and a little less explosive compared to pickups like the alnico 5 ’60s Burstbuckers in the Gibson SG I kept at hand for comparison. But for pickups in an $899 instrument, they are lively and have ample personality.
The Verdict
When you listen to the first few Soundgarden records, you hear a lot of punchy, midrange-y tones that remind you that Kim Thayil (who, among other things, had an interest in jangly Paisley Underground bands) is about more than thick, mega-massive, woofer-busting hugeness. Fittingly, his signature Polara similarly reminds you that there is more to the mahogany-solidbody-and-humbuckers formula than rock writ large. The Thayil Polara is just as happy playing the part of George Harrison’s or Peter Buck’s guitar as it is slinging slabs of leaden grunge. It’s a great value for that multifacetedness.
Guild Polara Kim Thayil Signature Demo | First Look
From left to right: Jonas Stein, Jemina Pearl, John Eatherly, and Nathan Vasquez started out as Be Your Own Pet when they were all still in high school.
Photo by Kirt Barnett
When it did eventually happen, the Nashville-based band’s reunion was swift. In late 2021, they met up at an event at Third Man Records (which is owned in part by Pearl’s husband, Ben Swank), after having loosely kept in touch over the decade or so prior. They had one rehearsal, Jack White caught wind of it—and they agreed to join him on a couple weeks’ worth of dates on his Supply Chain Issues Tour in spring 2022. And just like that, they were back.
Be Your Own Pet’s third full-length album, Mommy, was released on Third Man in late 2023. It’s their first record in 15 years, following 2008’s Get Awkward. The songs are boisterous yet tempered, at times charged, at times playful, and always joyous in their freedom of expression.
Erotomania
“It can be kind of easy to see through something that doesn’t feel totally authentic,” comments Stein on what makes a great punk band. By those terms, at the very least, Be Your Own Pet is great. On the new record, Pearl’s authenticity shines in lyrics that address her experience living with bipolar disorder (“Bad Mood Rising”) and sexual assault (“Hand Grenade”). Underpinning those sensitive, personal subjects, Stein’s insistent guitar work pushes them further to the forefront with the urgency they deserve.
The explosive, broiling Mommy poises itself like a zealous boxer, delivering one punch after the next in controlled bursts of enthusiasm. While the band picks up where it left off in their way of expertly packaging tumultuous—once teenaged—emotions into zipping, neatly clamoring arrangements, they’ve also become more articulate in their own musical language, going from pouring out raucous, nervous energy to fusing together beats, screams, and strums that are more confident than they are angsty.
On Mommy, Be Your Own Pet displays a new sense of confidence, channeling an angst that slightly departs from the energy of their teenage years to focus on more mature issues.
But don’t worry—they are still angsty. On the opening track, “Worship the Whip,” Stein switches between steady, supporting downstrokes to matching the vocal melody with a knifelike lead, as Pearl cries out with insolent commentary on right-wing authority figures. 'Goodtime!” is a lament on becoming an adult with responsibilities, especially as a punk—which Stein fleshes out with sharp, clever riffage. And on “Bad Moon Rising,” Stein savvily rides his overdrive back and forth between mild and heavy, paralleling Pearl’s shifting, riotous intensity. All the while, Vasquez and Eatherly act as bellows to the blaze, serving the songs with relentlessly energetic and intuitive rhythmic backing.
“In a very funny, positive way, there was always a little bit of hazing on one another, and all that stuff came right back.”
The first time Be Your Own Pet played together, Stein was around 15 years old. “I definitely did not have my driver’s license yet,” he says. “We had to get picked up by our parents to do rehearsals and stuff. Then shortly after, I was the first person to get my license, so we’d all pile into my car and go be rascals around town and play music when we could.”
It wasn’t long before the band gained traction—they released a demo CD, and soon after played South by Southwest, eventually signing to Thurston Moore’s Ecstatic Peace label to release their self-titled debut in 2006. What followed was a somewhat chaotic musical career that, due to the pressures of the industry, ended just a handful of years later. When they reunited, it was their first time seeing each other in person since their disbandment.
“I was always more inspired by the guitar players who can make two or three notes sound really badass.”
“Thirteen years sounds like a long time, but it did not feel like it’d been 13 years after we got back in the room together,” says Stein. “It just felt like meeting back up with your childhood best friends or your siblings, like ‘Oh, we know each other. We don’t have to try to figure each other out again.’ Aside from the musical chemistry, even the humor and personality traits that we all once carried…. They still carried over. In a very funny, positive way, there was always a little bit of hazing on one another, and all that stuff came right back.”
When Be Your Own Pet rehearsed together in late 2021, it was the first time they’d all seen each other in person in 13 years.
Photo by Angelina Castillio
Despite how quickly they fell back in step, a lot had also changed, but in a good way. The band had grown as musicians from the other projects they’d pursued over the years: Pearl released a solo album that featured Iggy Pop, Eatherly played with a handful of successful acts, and Stein fronted the band Turbo Fruits and built a career in DJing. “Coming back and doing it all again just felt like we were on performance enhancers,” says Stein.
During their time apart, Pearl also learned how to play guitar, which now enables her to bring more arrangement ideas to the rest of the band than her past, mostly lyrical contributions. “She’s been able to bring some really cool ideas that show up very barebones and rudimentary, which has been really nice because the boys are able to reconstruct and enhance them,” says Stein, referring to himself, Vasquez, and Eatherly. Compared to how they worked together when they were teenagers, today, they’re more comfortable with giving each other constructive criticism and feedback, and are able to come to agreements more easily. The “greater good” and what works for a song has taken priority over their egos and preferences as individuals.
But since the band was created when its members were in their formative years, there is still a subtle but “goofy pecking order,” says Stein. As the two oldest of the group, Stein and Pearl have always borne the “older-sibling responsibilities,” and more recently, Pearl has taken on the largest workload, he says. “She’s kind of wearing the crown in all this.”
Jonas Stein's Gear
While soloing, guitarist Jonas Stein, who’s inspired by bands like MC5 and Buzzcocks, either sticks to pure noise or uses as few notes as possible.
Photo by Jim Summaria
Guitars
- Customized Epiphone SG
- Customized Gibson SG
Amps
- Live: Fender Blues DeVille 212
- Studio: Peavey Decade
Effects
- Fulltone Full-Drive
- Electro-Harmonix Nano POG
- Generic wah
Strings & Picks
- D'Addario Nickel Wound (.011–.050)
- Dunlop Tortex .6 mm
Stein admits that when Be Your Own Pet started playing together again, he hadn’t played guitar for about six years, as he’d been spending most of that time focusing on DJing. So, when the band booked their dates with Jack White, he decided to invest in a new axe. He purchased a white Epiphone SG with the intention of hot-rodding it—and brought it to Dave Johnson of Scale Model Guitars in Nashville. He described to Johnson what he wanted the guitar to sound like, and Johnson went ahead with modding. “I just love something that breaks up pretty easily,” says Stein. “I don’t like my guitars to be too bright. I like them to be sort of easily distorted, really easy to play, and warm-sounding.”
Johnson gutted the electronics, adding Seymour Duncan humbuckers and simplifying the knob configuration (from four to two), changed the tuning pegs, replaced the nut, and put a custom Be Your Own Pet graphic over the body. Stein also plays a Gibson SG that Johnson modded years ago, which has an American flag graphic on it to resemble Wayne Kramer of MC5’s guitar. The pickups in the Gibson are stock. “I really like it; it’s kind of a darker, heavier tone,” Stein explains.
Live, Stein likes to play through a Fender Blues DeVille, but in the studio, he goes for “the weirdest, craziest, shittiest, fanciest-sounding amp there is.” For Mommy, he ended up recording a lot on a Peavey Decade. He explains how the amp rose to popularity after Josh Homme divulged that they were his “secret weapon” on the Queens of the Stone Age episode of the documentary series Watch the Sound with Mark Ronson. “These tiny little Peavey amps used to be like $40,” says Stein, “but now that the word is out there, they’re going for like over $1000 apiece.”
There are fiery leads and riffs on the album, but not solos in the traditional, elaborately improvised sense. As Stein explains, that’s never really been his speed. “I really took to the MC5 when I was a teenager. I liked the messiness and the imperfections of their playing. It made me feel better about myself as a guitar player because they were never perfect.
“I was always more inspired by the guitar players who can make two or three notes sound really badass and less focused on the players that were really well-versed in music theory and could play circles around everybody else. I was more into the energy that I would hear from a two-note Buzzcocks solo.”
This live performance shot was taken during the first phase of Be Your Own Pet’s career, when they were still teenagers.
Throughout the album, Stein captures that energy by bridling it in minimalist, yet galvanized, passages. Sometimes, that means a few measures of pure noise, à la Sonic Youth, heard on “Erotomania” and “Never Again.” Alternatively, on “Hand Grenade,” he builds a triumphant arc that perfectly suits the song’s impassioned, empowering message. And over the “Psycho Killer”-reminiscent groove of “Rubberist,” he carefully unravels a series of spacious phrases that climb over the steady bassline and eerie crowd vocals. His approach to that song in particular was influenced by his experience as a DJ, where he’s immersed himself in disco, Italo disco, funk, and dance genres.
Stein describes “Rubberist” as featuring “more time and space and less full-on riffage.” His disco familiarity comes into the songwriting process in terms of “knowing when to bring the guitar down, to let other things shine a little bit more, let the bass shine, let the vocals shine, let the drums and bass shine together. I think just being around more dynamic music, like some 8-minute deep-cut disco tracks, has shaped the way I would look at writing a song today.”
“I started from pretty close to beginner status. But I think that in itself is pretty punk rock.”
Citing Giorgio Moroder, Nile Rodgers, and Gino Soccio as influences, Stein shares, “I grew up mostly on punk rock and rock ’n’ roll and I was always like, ‘Disco sucks,’ ’cause that was always the theme. But listening to disco music and classic dance music from the early ’70s to early ’80s has been really refreshing for my ears. It’s so much different from what I was used to playing in all the bands I played in.
“I was on the tail-end of, you had to pick a clan and stick with them,” he shares. “In the ’80s, you were either a punk rocker, or a metalhead, or you went to discos. You couldn’t really cross over. But now, I feel like we’ve entered an age, probably because of the internet, where everything’s so immediately at your disposal that you can like anything you want and everything you want, and it’s okay.”
Stein was just becoming a musician when the world was in the midst of entering that age. He grew up with a dad who worked in the music industry, and while he was never “force fed” into learning an instrument, the opportunity was always there. When his parents did eventually put him in guitar lessons, he ended up hopping from guitar to drums to bass and back to guitar—which then, of course, led pretty quickly to him performing. “I probably, for certain actually, started playing in bands before I had the skills to play in bands.”
When it all began, he says, he strung his guitar with just the bottom four strings. He was mostly playing power chords at the time, and the other strings just got in the way—but as the band started getting more shows, his playing had to catch up to where he was as a performer. “I started from pretty close to beginner status,” he says, looking back. “But I think that in itself is pretty punk rock.”
Be Your Own Pet @ SXSW - 03/15/2023 - Mohawk, Austin, TX
In a performance at SXSW 2023, Be Your Own Pet rips through two tunes, digging in with unconventional arrangements and raw punk spirit.