L7

They didn't get the grunge millions, but these wickedly witty witches perfected the metal-punk alloy that generally eluded their many flailing male contemporaries. With Donita Sparks' and Suzi Gardner's twin lockstep guitars racing down the highway to hell, Smell the Magic was one of Sub Pop's finest hours (okay, one of its finest 30 minutes). Fleeing L.A.'s late-'80s glam sleaze, L7 glimpsed its innermost self reflected in the Runaways' truant-chick anthem "Cherry Bomb." Magic gleefully smashed that mirror with the ass end of the band's guitars, casting a fractured image of every good-girl-gone-bad they could imagine and embody.

With Butch Vig polishing L7's chrome, Bricks Are Heavy was as sleek as it was scathing. "Wargasm" calls out armchair generals who confuse SCUDs with their dicks, "Pretend We're Dead" calls out slackers who confuse apathy with cool, "Mr. Integrity" calls out petty punk ideologues. And just to be safe, "Shitlist" calls out every other asshole they might have overlooked elsewhere. Hungry for Stink was L7's idea of a groove album. The women trudge diligently through sludge that captures their dissipated jag, while the rape paranoia of "Can I Run" captures the underside of a feminism the founders of Rock for Choice never shied away from.

Beauty Process further distilled the essence of L7 into joyously self-obsessed nastiness, but by Slap-Happy, L7 was merely cruising on the fumes of its attitude. But what an attitude. As ever, Sparks spits her spite less with contempt than with utter dismissal -- you aren't even worth the effort, but a girl's gotta sing about something. After all, this was a woman who once hurled her used tampon at a crowd of male hecklers. (KEITH HARRIS)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide