In November 2002, I lost two things that were very dear to me. The first was the $12 that I… In November 2002, I lost two things that were very dear to me. The first was the $12 that I spent on the Donnas’ new album. The second was my love for the girls themselves when I went to their show. Luckily, I had free tickets so I didn’t have to suffer more. Financially, that is.

Before they took the stage, one of the guys from the opening band, Superdrag, announced that the Donnas had reached the epitome of coolness … they were on TRL’s top 10. From that point on, the show took a downturn. Honestly, their new album sucks, compared to their older efforts, and sadly, those were the only songs they played. I did nothing but condemn each member for the next 3 1/2 months. However, I recently saw things in a new light.

Maybe the Donnas can be that first universal, women in rock experience for a pre-teen, up and coming rock ‘n’ roller somewhere in small-town America. While the Donnas lack the grittiness they once possessed, they do embrace sex, drugs and heavy guitar riffs with open arms and dirty mouths, and they are easily accessible for those about to rock outside metropolitan areas.

Flash back to 1994. I lay on my bed amidst a pile of angst, mourning the fact that no one would ever understand me the way Courtney Love does. Especially no one in the small, rural town my parents kept me caged in. I had seen the Hole video for “Doll Parts” a few days earlier and ran to the nearest record shop – 30 miles at that time – to buy the album. So, Live Through This now blasted from my Sony stereo. My 12-year-old heart broke with every crackle of her voice. Two weeks later, I bought a guitar. And two weeks after that, I bought my first L7 album.

The moral of the story is that, although one band may become a media monster feasting on the airwaves of MTV, others are out there playing in the wings. L7 is by no means insignificant. But, they also weren’t going to magically appear on my television, punch me in the face and tell me to stop being lazy and begin to rock. I mean, what were the odds that Miss Donita Sparks could have reached me through telepathy? It took one woman in one video – a well-made video at that – to wake my hunger for screaming chicks.

Some slower readers may be asking: The Donnas tie in how? Well, it goes like this. A pre-teen lady, existing in a world without record stores, clubs and zines, is about to fall victim to the mainstream, male-dominated crap that is fed to television viewers every day. But then, four sassy girls appear onscreen singing about sex and getting frisky. The young listener likes what she hears. She buys a few of their albums but wants more.

Since her mainstream female resources are no doubt limited – this is the good part – she is forced to explore the scaly underbelly of rock ‘n’ roll to satiate her yearning. Along the way, she picks up a few mind-blowing albums and an instrument of her choice to join and support those who have been working so hard to exist equally alongside the musical patriarchy that dominates rock music. She finds that her yearning doesn’t die but consumes her. It’s breathtaking, really.

I loved the Donnas for their promiscuous ways and trashy lyrics. However, if they can move just one girl the way that Courtney moved me so many years ago, I’m willing to make that sacrifice. It’s fodder for the next generation.