Flannel, Fury, and a Pinch of Salt: Liz Phair and Sleater-Kinney Bring Their Tour to Chicago

9/28/2026

By Ari Karnezis

On a muggy Thursday night (and on the eve of Riot Fest weekend), the riot grrrl/indie punk tirade returned to the Salt Shed (after Bikini Kill's stop on Monday), this time hosting Sleater-Kinney and Liz Phair. The two bands co-headlined The Flannel & the Fury tour, meant to be a celebration of the 1990's alternative rock scene and the women who helped commandeer it in a male-dominated industry.

Opening The Flannel & the Fury show was Frankie Cosmos, a dreamy, folksy indie duo from New York. Frankie Cosmos is no stranger to Chicago’s Salt Shed nor a large indie audience, as they also opened up for Japanese Breakfast in 2023, but their sound suggested a stripped-down, DIY-style persona. Armed with nothing but a guitar, a keyboard, and beautiful, haunting harmonies, they were a perfect representation of the calm before the storm.

When Sleater-Kinney took the stage, they wasted no time with theatrics and launched right into “Hell,” with Corin Tucker's evocative lyrics and powerhouse vocals bringing chills and a cutting silence to the hungry audience. The duality of Tucker and co-vocalist and lead guitarist Carrie Brownstein's stage presence brought an energy unlike any other, their passion a language only we can understand. That same passion brought the “fury” to this tour, elevated by a mix of older and newer songs from their nearly 30-year-long discography, from staples such as “The Center Won't Hold,” “All Hands on the Bad One,” and “Dig Me Out” to more emotional pieces like "Untidy Creature,” “Modern Girl,” and “Jumpers.”

Setting up one of their “louder” tracks, 1996's “Little Mouth,” Brownstein took a moment to acknowledge the current state of things, prefacing that Sleater-Kinney has often been called too loud or abrasive, to which Brownstein replies, “I literally don't give a shit anymore.”

“This is not the time to annoyed by loud people,” she continues. “The way of the world right now, too many people are being silenced. Volume is important right now, on behalf of the Palestinian people, on behalf of trans people. Whatever your version of volume is, whether it's writing, voting... This is your time to be heard. Make a fucking racket out there.” It was perhaps the most intimate and memorable moment of the show and reminds us that, much like many other feminist icons of the ‘90s and their protégés, Sleater-Kinney has no desire to sit on the fence about anything.

One of the biggest rules in entertainment is to “always leave your audience wanting more,” and as the band closed out with “Entertain,” their 60-minute set truly did not seem long enough. But soon the time came for the ever so dreamy, ever so cool Liz Phair.

Admittedly, I felt a bit of a disconnect once Liz Phair began her set as I was unfamiliar with her and her music. Although she is the kind of artist that co-headlines perfectly with a band like Sleater-Kinney, she's about as riot grrrl as Sheryl Crow. Despite this, the energy she and the crowd shared was undeniable and made her set all the more fun. Her music suggests dreamy pop mixed with blues rock with beautifully weird lyrics, and quite a few of her songs caught my attention.

The beginning of the set saw her iconic 2003 album Exile in Guyville lead the way with “6’1” and “Help Me Mary,” and other standouts included “Johnny Feelgood” and “Extraordinary,” showcasing the slightest grungy side of Ms. Phair.

Closing out with a hell of a trio of songs, “Fuck and Run,” “Divorce Song,” and of course her most popular hit, “Why Can't I?” Liz Phair concluded certainly one of the most unforgettable, emotional, nostalgic, and powerful shows of the year.