Redd Kross is not pissed off, and they don't want to change the world. Thier music doesn't give voice to the alienation of today's youth, nor does it blast the "authorities" who have left the younger generation with a society gone mad. If anything, b rothers Jeff and Steve McDonald, who have formed the core of the band since its prepubescent beginings in 1978, serve as a liaison from one era to the next, embracing with unconditional love, every known icon of American pop culture and refining them thro ugh the eyes of today's post-punk, post-grunge nihilist.
It' s a combination as absurd as it is profound, and the irony is not lost on the band, considering its stock in trade has been in songs such as "Linda Blair," "I Hate My School," "Elephant Flares" and "1976," which seemingly mock the people, places and events they pay homage to while simultaneously immortalizing them in song. It's the kind of satire normally reserved for cartoons like the Simpsons and those old Looney Tunes. But in a contemporary music world that often takes itself a bit too seriously, Redd Kross' disarming wit and unabashedly pop sensibilities highlight our need to lighten up and appreciate the past and present rather than condemn it. Because, without the ability to laugh, the future looks grim.
"I consider rock & roll high art. I honestly do," says Redd Kross elder statesman Jeff McDonald, who, at 30, has spent nearly half his life in the band. "But it's only great because it encompasses so many emotions. You're bearing your soul, but at the same time, it's so primitive. Therefore, it is absurd, so you gotta have a smile about it and it should be fun - at least some of the time.
"We don't get ourselves mixed up in too many political issues," he continues. "But even though our music's not as topical, it's definitely social commentary. We oftentimes observe the absurd, but that' s not necessarily parody because absurdity surrounds us, and you have basically two choices: You can be freaked out by all the weirdness around you, or you can embrace it."
And that means all of it, good and bad: Earth Shoes, tube sox, bell bottoms, big combs, Quaaludes, Space Dust, Kiss, Captain & Tenille, Zeppelin, Sex Pistols, AMC Gremlins, Chico & the Man, Space Invaders, Big Wheels, group hugs and of Jeff McDonald course, those Leroy Nieman posters that Burger King used to give away to commemorate the 1976 Olympics. In the eyes of Redd Kross, if somebody saw fit to create it, then it must have merit.
"A lot of what we're about is modern culture, American culture," McDonald says. "We're very nationalistic. We grew up here, and this is our environment. In Europe they tend to dwell on ancient culture. The French are very snobbish, but they're living in the past, because, essentially, their culture's over. But we can take part in ours if we're not too stupid to recognize it now."
Which brings to mind the band's latest release, Phaseshifter, on Mercury Records, their first album since 1990's Third Eye and, undoubtedly, their most polished, mature work to date. After more than a decade of playing together, and often being dismissed as little more than a glorified cover band, the McDonalds have recruited a trio of new musicians - guitarist Edward Kurdziel, keyboards Gere Fennelly and drummer Brian Reitzell - and honed their songwriting skills to a level of refinement that would make their idols nod in appreciation.
"We do write pop songs, essentially very poppy songs, and we make them very aggressive," McDonald says. "We grew up with the Beatles, the Monkees, the Stones and all these great pop groups, but we've filtered it through punk rock and hard rock. A lot of bands do that, I just think that we've been doing it for such a long time, we do it better."
On the new album, McDonald blends his penchant for jangly, power pop with his role as the Dennis Miller of rock, tossing about cultural references almost as often as he does musical references - though he says he has made an effort to tone down the quirkiness of his Iyrical content.
"There's nothing really like that on the new album, with the exception of 'After School Special,' which is about the real experiences of growing up in Los Angeles and being juvenile delinquents," McDonald says. "And a song like 'Huge Wonder,' we basically wrote it in the studio right on Hollywood Blvd. And we'd see tons of European tourists coming here to see our runaways and crack addicts. And the homeless Axl Rose lookalike transplants would come over trying to sell drugs and all this other weird shit. We weren't preaching, we were just observing what's going on."
But when Redd Kross embarks upon its first-ever European tour in a couple of months, how does McDonald think audiences will react to his arcane refer ences, like a song that mentions GIT and Axl Rose in the same breath? "It doesn't really matter what the song's about as long as the music is good. That's why the music has to be good. If we were all schtick, all walk no talk, we'd have serious problems in places like Europe."
Considering the twists and turns Redd Kross' career has taken over the years, some people are surprised the band's still around at all, let alone going stronger than ever and expanding to new audiences. After five albums with five different independent record companies (they've released product on nearly 30 different labels), the last of which went bankrupt, the band seemed poised for stardom in 1990 with a major-league contract from Atlantic and their most accessible record, Third Eye. But almost as soon as the record hit the stores, Atlantic put a halt to its venture into alternative music, dropping Redd Kross and a slew of other up and-coming bands.
"A lot of people ask us if we're bitter, or do we hate Atlantic," McDonald says. "But we saw it as an experiment, being alternative, on a label that's really only geared to marketing mainstream acts. The people they hired to handle us did a great job, but they had their hands tied behind their back. In the end, it only hurt our career because it got us off schedule. We had wanted to put out another album the next year, and we ended up having to wait two and a half years.
"People assumed we were going to break up after Third Eye, and we were surprised because the thought hadn't even occurred to us," McDona}d says. "The cutout bins are littered with bands who came in, got a major deal, it didn't workout and they broke up. And I have to wonder what a lot of these musicians' motives are. But then again, although we're still very young, a lot of people who are our peers don't have the thick skin we have. We've been in every kind of situation known to recording."
That skin came in handy in 1991, as the band found itself in yet another lurch. Despite its reputation as one of the biggest drawing club acts in Los Angeles, McDonald and company had to travel elsewhere to find another offer.
"It wasn't really hard for us to find another record label, but it wasn't in L.A.," McDonald says. "But we've never been signed out of L.A., no matter how popular we've been. A&R people think, 'Well if someone else hasn't signed them, why should we?' So we have to go to another country or another city like New York to make our big splash, then all of a sudden we're brand new to them."
Redd Kross' biggest splash came across the pond at British label This Way Up, which is headed by Andrew Lauder, founder of the influential label Stiff Records (Elvis Costello, Buzzcocks) and, more recently, head of Silvertone Records.
"We signed with them initially in England after we did the Teenage Fanclub tour [in early 1992]," McDonald says. "We had this bidding war, which we didn't expect because we figured we'd put our record out ourselves if no one was interested. And even Atlantic wanted to sign us again, which was really strange, and it gave us a little bit of revenge.
"We recorded the record for This Way Up, and they were very supportive," he continues. "And not until it was totally finished did Mercury get involved. Then Mercury had the first option to put it out here. So we had the best of both worlds."
But despite having complete creative control, something the band has been accustomed to, McDonald says many Redd Kross old-timers feel betrayed by the band's jump to the majors and the increasing popularity that's come from substantial radio play of their new single, "Jimmy's Fantasy."
"There was a time when being on a major label alone, people assumed you were a sellout and your A&R people wrote your songs for you," McDonald says. "But we had made so many records on indie labels. We had been ripped off by so many indie labels that there was no reason to get behind a bunch of crooks. I credit indie labels for giving us our start, and some of the indie labels we worked with were great, like Frontier. But there were other ones that were very shady and worse than anyone we've ever met at a major label.
"We're a really popular cult band, and a lot of the people who have been with us have been with us for years, and when they see people just getting into us they become protective and very possessive," McDonald explains. "They like the fact that we're popular and have been around for all these years with absolutely no support from radio and TV. And when we started getting played on KROQ, a lot of people got pissed at us. We thought we had given them a really great no-compromise album that represented the way we've sounded for years. But there's no sense in even trying to explain this to some of these people."
Some people will always find an issue to get pissed off about, but not Redd Kross. They'll be too busy laughing.
By:Sean Doles