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When Kathleen Hanna retires, she will most surely find herself boxed in by a set of feminist signposts: Daria, Paglia, and perhaps Sabrina. Writers will dip their words in sensitivity, making sure to spell “grrrl” properly (everyone, it’s three r’s!), and call her rants in Bikini Kill “something close to scary.” Still, there will be an air of almost professorial superiority in their tone. They will say that Hanna once stripped for cash. They will note that she paved the way for Sleater-Kinney, a cuter and safer version of riot-grrrl rock. And by the end of their pieces, they will invariably revisit her song “Suck My Left One.” But the writers will miss something key to librarian-in-Timberlands Hanna: She’s really fun, and it shows in her music. She likes fucking, raps better than Sporty Spice, and hits her notes helium-high. In the -90s, Hanna made it seem as if the only important bands were all-female; with her latest group, Le Tigre, she has put a little extra sugar in our punk-rock colas. So give her a shout-out for name-dropping radical icons (“Hot Topic”) and dissing Giuliani (“My My Metrocard”) without morphing into Patricia Ireland. And end your appreciation by quoting from “Eau d’Bedroom Dancing”: “The world’s a mess and yr my only cure/There’s no time for me to act mature/The only words I know are ‘more,’ ‘more,’ and ‘more.’” Le Tigre performs at 8:30 p.m. Wednesday, April 26, at the Black Cat, 1831 14th St. NW. $5. (202) 667-7960. (Jason Cherkis)