Is This It?: Making Music in the Year of the Girl
Is This It? examines the current state of rock music through a modern-day lens, highlighting the artists, perspectives and sounds that have kept the genre and its dedication to counter-culture alive.
Photos courtesy of Fefe Dobson & Julia Khoroshilov
As the Biblical quote goes, “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put away childish things.” That is… unless you (or someone you love) took part in the much talked about “Year of the Girl” in 2023, an era defined by its penchant for bows, Barbie, girl dinner and hot girl walks. The spirit of the girl also unsurprisingly trickled into some of the year’s biggest album releases, present in the call-out of toxic masculinity over guitars on Olivia Rodrigo’s GUTS or in the creation story of boygenius’ instant indie rock classic the record, the manifestation of three women pouring their visceral singular songwriting into a collaborative effort. That thread has continued so far this year, tangible in the romantic folklore fantasy of Katy Kirby’s Blue Raspberry or the exploration of grief outlining feminist foremothers on Sleater-Kinney’s latest release, Little Rope.
There’s been a lot of speculation over what pushed us into the Year of the Girl, and whether it was incited by a desire for childlike freedom and a fear of the constraints of adulthood. An NPR conversation between All Things Considered host Juana Summers and writer Isabel Cristo pointed to unemployment, rising financial woes and an ever-increasing cost of living as the reasons those identifying as women are turning towards petulant and prepubescent ways. “I think anyone who has been plugged in at all this year knows exactly what’s so uninviting about being an adult woman in the year 2023,” Cristo said, before pointing to the Dobbs v. Jackson landmark decision that the Constitution of the United States does not confer a right to abortion, calling the set back for women’s right another example of our “bleak political landscape.”
Call it superficial or just plain immature, but it doesn’t take girl math to see why feelings of despair and loss of control add up to an urge to return to innocence. It’s why I found myself in a Barbie display case, wearing a blush mini dress on the day of the film’s premiere. It’s likely the reason I wore a layered tutu to watch Taylor Swift sing about fairytale endings during her Eras Tour. But, looking back on the prevalence of girlhood last year, it hasn’t been all Mary Janes and butterflies, but a (sometimes) reckless abandonment of the full view of womanhood—one that comes in shapes and sizes that don’t always fit into magenta boxes. Speaking to musicians, the utmost reflectors of shifting culture, I asked their beliefs on the creative impact of the year of the girl. Are we heading somewhere more sinister than just a reliance on making a meal that mirrors what you used to eat as an after school snack?
“Every year I find our culture bringing itself back further and further into the freeness of girl youth,” Sarah Kinsley told us. The singer/songwriter, known for her wall of sound building, romantic and glittery viral track “The King,” sees the draw of girlhood but also sees it as limiting. “I wonder if wearing the bows, indulging in coquette sweetness is a way of reclaiming a fantasy of girlhood. But the ‘girlness’ of the year does, as most mainstream things do, fall short of what it claims to represent: a depth to what girlhood truly is or what feminism asserts as a whole.” If you’ve seen Kinsley live and glance up at the right moment, you may confuse her for a bundle of delicate white cloth as she dances in decadent dresses, leaning into the full breadth of her feminine existence. “I wear beautiful bowed flowing dresses on stage when I perform much more so than I would ever attempt in real life,” she continued. “This is a direct choice of my performance of girlhood. We choose undeniable, moving, free-flowing girlhood because we can, as a response—perhaps to the monstrosities of our governments or because of the furthering divide between the realities that men set forth for women and the ideals of life created by women themselves.”
Last year, Kinsley released Ascension, an EP she said is “about this unknown, ethereal place,” adding that the world it conveys is an “eternal paradise.” It’s not far off from the femme-Peter-Pan quest to never grow up. “My music has always been something that resonates deeply with young women and I feel a very potent responsibility to portray myself as a reflection of them,” Kinsley said when I asked if her creativity has been touched by the year of the girl. “I see these young women at the shows and I want to make them dance and scream and release this wildness that I feel so keenly. I want it to inspire living emblematically with love and unbridled energy and insanity. It’s a projection of my own ‘girl’ I suppose.”
When asked her opinion on the Year of the Girl, indie punk pioneer Fefe Dobson was succinct in her response. “It’s about time!” It’s a fair response, too, when you consider that it was two decades ago that Dobson shared her Platinum-certified self-titled debut album, pushing tracks like the unbridled “Take Me Away” to the charts and pushing me to dance with reckless abandon in my teenage bedroom, thrilled there was a Black woman like me making the music I loved. “There was that one incredibly powerful scene in the Barbie movie where Rhea Perlman’s character said, ‘We mothers stand still, so our daughters can look back to see how far they’ve come.’ The ‘Year of the Girl’ is a celebration of just that,” Dobson continued. “It’s about reflecting on how far we’ve come but also in the year ahead it’s about reaching back for our mothers who made it possible for us to make these strides and acknowledging the barriers they’ve broken through for us.”