The Last Riff: Jennifer Finch’s Posthumous Memoir and the Legacy of L7
There’s something profoundly moving about a memoir that arrives after its author has left us. Jennifer Finch’s Shooting Up and Making Out: A Memoir of My Life in LA and L7 isn’t just a book—it’s a final act of defiance, a last riff from a musician who lived life on her own terms. Personally, I think what makes this particularly fascinating is the timing. Finch, the bassist for the groundbreaking all-female hard rock band L7, completed this memoir before her death from brain cancer in July. It’s as if she knew her story needed to outlive her, a testament to a life that was as chaotic as it was purposeful.
A Life in Fragments: From Addiction to Activism
Finch’s memoir promises to be a raw, unfiltered look at her journey—from her struggles with addiction to her role as a co-founder of a pro-choice group. What many people don’t realize is that Finch’s story isn’t just about rock ‘n’ roll; it’s about resilience. Her ability to confront her demons while advocating for causes she believed in is a reminder that artists often carry the weight of the world in ways we don’t fully appreciate. If you take a step back and think about it, her memoir is a blueprint for how to live authentically, even when the odds are stacked against you.
L7: More Than Just a Band
L7 wasn’t just a band—they were a movement. Co-founded by Finch in 1986, the group became a cornerstone of feminist rock at a time when the genre was dominated by men. One thing that immediately stands out is how L7’s music and attitude challenged the status quo. Their farewell tour, currently underway, feels like the closing of a chapter in rock history. But what this really suggests is that their influence will outlast their final performance. Bands like L7 paved the way for future generations of women in music, and Finch’s memoir is a chance to understand the woman behind the bass.
The Collaboration Behind the Memoir
Co-written with Jeff Alulis, the memoir was two years in the making. Alulis’s statement about Finch’s intentionality and thoughtfulness is telling. From my perspective, this collaboration highlights the trust Finch placed in Alulis to tell her story accurately. It’s not easy to hand over your life’s narrative to someone else, especially when it’s as complex as Finch’s. What makes this particularly interesting is the emotional weight Alulis must have carried, knowing Finch wouldn’t see the finished product. It’s a labor of love, and it shows.
The Outpouring of Love for Finch
The support Finch received after her death speaks volumes about her impact. Billie Joe Armstrong dedicating a song to her during a Green Day set is just one example. What this really suggests is that Finch wasn’t just a musician—she was a cultural icon. Her ability to connect with people, both through her music and her activism, created a legacy that transcends her time on Earth. Personally, I think this outpouring of love is a testament to how deeply she touched those around her.
Why This Memoir Matters
In a world where memoirs often feel sanitized or self-serving, Finch’s promises to be different. A detail that I find especially interesting is the description of her perspective as ‘grounded’ and ‘bracing, edgy wisdom.’ This isn’t a story of redemption in the traditional sense; it’s a story of survival, creativity, and unapologetic authenticity. If you take a step back and think about it, this memoir is a reminder that life doesn’t have to be perfect to be meaningful.
The Broader Implications
Finch’s memoir raises a deeper question: What does it mean to leave a legacy? In her case, it’s not just about the music or the activism—it’s about the courage to live openly and honestly. From my perspective, her story challenges us to embrace our flaws and fight for what we believe in. It’s a call to action wrapped in a memoir, and that’s what makes it so powerful.
Final Thoughts
As I reflect on Finch’s life and this posthumous memoir, I’m struck by the idea that some stories are never truly finished. Shooting Up and Making Out isn’t just a book—it’s a conversation starter, a provocation, and a celebration of a life well-lived. Personally, I think Finch would have wanted it that way. Her story isn’t just hers; it’s ours to carry forward. And in that sense, she’s still here, still playing that last riff, still challenging us to listen.
