Femme for thought: The Butchies rocked the ’Sco last Thursday night.

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I had never heard of The Butchies until I saw their posters in Mudd’s stairwell. I took a minute to study the band members with their short haircuts and laughing faces. “The Butchies,” I thought, pensively trying to picture myself at the ’Sco, bobbing my head to acoustic-propelled, angst-inducing folk music. Of course Ani DiFranco, Dar Williams and the Indigo Girls flashed through my mind without even a courteous pause to complicate what The Butchies were as a band.

I decided to go, figuring that my musical tastes needed to be challenged and besides, I like Dar Williams. When I informed some acquaintances of my plans to investigate this new and obviously queer band, I was met with shrugs and even a few furrowed brows.

I knew The Butchies had performed at the trans-phobic Michigan Women’s Festival — an all-women’s music festival that turned away women who were not biologically female. We discussed whether The Butchies’ participation in that festival was an active statement in favor of privileging biologically-born women over people who live their daily lives as women. After reaching a stalemate, I left the conversation a bit confused, but still anxious to see what The Butchies were about, both politically and musically.

When that night came, I slathered on a bit of glittery eye shadow, slid on my blue jean jacket and, with cigarette in hand, sashayed to the ’Sco for the 10 p.m. concert. To my chagrin, the ’Sco was deserted save for scattered individuals leaning against the bar, raising plastic beer-filled cups to their lips and nodding their heads to the sound of instruments being tuned.

I went to the table covered with The Butchies paraphernalia — shirts, wrist bands, their five CDs and posters. Senior Jess Chock-Goldman happened to be watching the table, and noticing my pen and notebook, asked me if I was planning on writing an article on the band. I affirmed and admitted to her my folk assumptions about this band. She told me they are a “hard rock” band. “They’re a really tight band,” Chock-Goldman said. She told me they have been around for about five years and they are definitely not folk; they’re punk. “It’s not just girls who like them. [There are] indie rock boys who like them [too],” she said.

I have to admit that I was expecting the ’Sco to be flooded with queer women gazing dreamy-eyed up at three smiling musicians on stage. Pictures of women swaying to songs that are so poetic and personal that one feels as if the lyrics should be read came to mind.

And so I waited outside of the ’Sco with the rest of the women dressed up for the concert, including some who were still lamenting the trans-phobic nature of the Michigan Women’s Festival and their hesitance to attend the concert.

Sun Burned Hand of the Man opened for The Butchies. The audience nodded and wobbled to what many would term “experimental music.” The stage seemed overwhelmed with all of the instruments and band members in Sun Burned Hand of the Man. There were synthesizers and various machines that made surreal sounds and distorted the human voice. Yet I must admit that the songs seemed to mash together in a blob of Jim Morrison-like electric guitar screams and moans into the microphones. Instruments and noisemakers of every kind littered the stage and were sometimes used to add to the “Martian” feel of the music. The drummer joked around with the audience, informing and lamenting the fact that Thursday, April 15, was tax day. There was even an oboe, a recorder, and a clarinet were used for affect, and the first time I had ever seen the instruments at the ’Sco. But the crowd of about 30 pensive Obies eventually lost interest and dispersed when the songs did not vary. The band members did not seem too interested in the music they were making, either.

The Butchies took the stage at around 11:30 p.m., and all those waiting in the hallway outside of the ’Sco filed in, bought plastic cups of Rolling Rock and waited for the three women, Kaia, Melissa and Alison to begin. The trio thanked Sun Burned Hand of the Man, joked about the band’s long name, and began to play. They performed songs from their newest album, Make Yr Life (2004), while sprinkling in selections from their previous albums: Population 1975 (1999), Are We not Femme? (1998), and 3 (2001). Energetic, fast paced and smiling Kaia, lead guitar, Allison, bass and Melissa, drums connected with the audience and looked like they were having giggly good times.

Although I could not usually make out the words Kaia belted into the microphone, which seemed to distort the words, it didn’t seem to matter to the audience nor to me. The music and the sound of Allison and Kaia harmonizing seemed to make some of the audience members bounce and smile at each other, like we were sharing a secret. And I have to admit there was the occasional male bobbing his head to the punkie, infectious rhythm.

Kaia commenced to impress the audience by joining them as she played her guitar solo and by playing while laying on the floor, encouraging her fans to crowd the stage and admire her “bad-assness”. The Butchies molded the ’Sco into something new, and I found a new band.