Unsung Female Heroes Of '90s Hard Rock

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Nowadays it's understood that women play an active role in the world of hard rock. From the contemporary stomp of Halestorm to the classical flourishes of Nightwish, there's an undeniable female presence in the modern hard rock pantheon. But that wasn't always the case. Just as some female guitarists of the '80s are criminally underrated, there's a wealth of talent from the '90s that went overlooked. Sure, the decade had its hard-rocking standouts like the Courtney Love-fronted Hole or Garbage's Shirley Manson, but the harder end of the spectrum remained largely a boys' club. 

So with that in mind, we wanted to take a look at the women of the '90s alt rock scene whose  contributions, like those of the women of the '90s shoegaze scene, were often underappreciated. From riot grrrl street fighters to alt metal's mistresses of menace, here's to the ladies that made that boys' club co-ed.

The Swedish alt-metal band Drain released their 1996 debut "Horror Wrestling" with no photos of the band in the liner notes and no press photos of the band for the first four months of the album's release. It was a bold move meant to keep the focus squarely on the music rather than the appearance of the band members. When the all-female line-up's appearance eventually became apparent they inevitably garnered condescending comparisons to Heart and ABBA, but their guttural grunge-metal style was undeniable. This was a group that owed more to Soundgarden and Alice in Chains than the Europop divas of yesteryear. 

Called "Drain S.T.H." in the States to prevent confusion with another band, the group's morbidly dark sonic aura balances the wall-of-sound riffs of guitarist Flavia Canel with the sinister melodicism of vocalist Maria Sjöholm, and the result is a solid summation of the dark world of '90s alternative metal. Songs like "I Don't Mind" and "Crack the Liar's Smile" showcase a band that puts supremely heavy rocking ahead of image without apology. 

Drain followed up their debut with 1999's "Freaks of Nature." Although it was a critically acclaimed album, record label strife and changing attitudes from band members led the group to fold shortly after its release. Three of the four members pursued other projects, while Sjöholm found wedded bliss with Black Sabbath guitarist Tony Iommi. 

Though grunge reigned supreme in the early '90s, the line between pure grunge and its stylistic tributaries (punk and metal) was often blurry. Even Pearl Jam — one of the bands most closely associated with the genre — began as Mother Love Bone, a group that had more in common with the glam stylings of Guns N' Roses than their colleagues in Nirvana. The same can be said for the Los Angeles-based L7, whose 1988 self-titled debut is more of an up-tempo, high-octane punk rock affair than the murkier, moodier vibes of grunge. 

The group settled into more groove-oriented territory on 1990's "Smell the Magic," but it was 1992's "Bricks Are Heavy" that saw their sound fully realized. The tight guitar work has all the razor-sharp precision of heavy metal, while immaculate production (courtesy of Nirvana producer Butch Vig) gives the band room to show off a refined, mature sound that feels light years ahead of grunge's unpolished ethos. The group may have been closely associated with grunge, but hindsight reveals L7 to be an early innovator in what would more properly be known as alternative metal.

"Bricks Are Heavy" produced the group's highest-charting single, "Pretend We're Dead," and they followed the momentum throughout the decade until announcing indefinite hiatus following 1999's "Slap-Happy." The break would last until the release of 2019's "Scatter the Rats." Despite a return to their youthful momentum, the group was once again thrown into upheaval with the 2026 passing of bassist Jennifer Finch. While L7 may not have conquered the world to the degree that their ferocious sound would have warranted, Finch's impact and that of the band as a whole was underscored by an outpouring of support from artists throughout the music industry.

As noted by lead guitarist Gina Volpe in the 2026 documentary "Pretty Ugly: The Story of the Lunachicks," no member of the Lunachicks had any pretensions of musical capability. "Jan Brady," the opener to their 1990 debut "Babysitters on Acid," showcases a band that struggles to keep time, much less deliver instrumental virtuosity. But for a group whose main selling point was wholly unrestrained feminist rage, impressive chops were never a concern in the first place.

The Lunachicks spent the '90s as standard-bearers for the riot grrrl punk movement, a gynocentric musical subgenre with expressly political overtones. Beneath the brazen vulgarity and obnoxious attitudes was a DIY scene predicated on challenging the male power structures of the modern world and other systemic inequities. That underlying ethos might only become apparent to those willing to venture past the genre's "angry teen girl" exterior, but it nevertheless left a major impact on the history of punk rock as both a musical genre and a political movement.

While the Lunachicks never attained any degree of chart success, they were an underground cultural juggernaut in their own right. The group went on hiatus in the mid-2000s with sporadic reunions since 2021, coinciding with the release of their memoir "Fallopian Rhapsody: The Story of the Lunachicks."

For a band associated squarely with '90s lady punk, Babes in Toyland shows off a remarkably dynamic range. Songs like "Bruise Violet" showcase the kind of harmonically dense, diminished-chord voicings normally associated with avant-garde metal bands like Voivod and Celtic Frost, while "Sweet '69" has the kind of burned-out punkish stomp associated with the riot grrrl scene. It's a remarkable degree of stylistic capacity, especially for a band that seems fairly humble in its musical aspirations.

The group's 1991 EP "To Mother" is a viscerally angry affair that alternates between madcap chaos and morbid drones with pummeling noise drumming throughout. There's little in the way of vocal melody, with vocalist-guitarist Kat Bjelland ranting venomously about issues both personal and social. In an era when noise rockers like Unsane and the Jesus Lizard were making ear-splitting madness a palatable — though still acquired — taste, Babes in Toyland's own take on the sound earned them a loyal and expansive following.

Though the group never recorded anything that could be described as radio pop, a greater sense of instrumental cohesion and some degree of vocal melody emerged across albums such as "Spanking Machine" and "Fontanelle," but it was the group's ability to find listenability in the grating and unorthodox that make them most interesting. 

Splendora played an indelible but unsung role in the world of '90s hard rock not, with a hit single but with the theme song for a hit TV show. When MTV's "Daria" opened with Splendora's "You're Standing on My Neck," it was the perfect setup for a show following a sardonic teenager who would roll her eyes at the world around her if she didn't lack the enthusiasm even for that. 

The band released one album, 1995's "In the Grass" on Koch Records. There's something predictable and formulaic about the album's tracks: the loose-wristed, grunge-style strumming, disinterested vocal delivery, and intelligent-slacker mindset seemed almost passé by the time "In the Grass" hit stores. But that's precisely why the band works for the "Daria" theme: When "Daria" premiered in 1997, the show's target demographic — disaffected girls too smart to get bogged down in high school popularity but too cynical to get excited about much else — was out there and ready for a show that spoke to them. 

The band may never have attained the success most rockers yearn for, but Splendora's "You're Standing on My Neck" is a genuinely important contribution to popular culture. It's one of those theme songs, like the Rembrandts' "I'll Be There for You" (the theme from "Friends") or Alabama 3's "Woke up This Morning" (the theme from "The Sopranos"), that perfectly sets up the atmosphere for the show at hand. In the case of "Daria," it also helped hail the arrival of the nerdy girl outcast as an inspiring and sympathetic character.