It is a paradoxical but nonetheless true statement to say that the retro-leaning L.A. rock band Redd Kross was far ahead of their time — not just musically (the power-pop resurgence of the early ’90s) but also in pop-culture worship and the irony that saturated that decade. But their comic take on those things obscures not just what a great rock band they were and still are, but also the fact that they’re legit OGs on any number of levels.
Formed by brothers Jeff and Steve McDonald, they were initially an L.A. punk rock band whose first gig was opening for the legendary Black Flag when they were virtually children (singer/guitarist Jeff was 14, bassist Steve was 11). Then, they decided to rebel against the punk scene by committing the ultimate sin: growing their hair and donning garish ’70s clothes, and recording a battery of songs about everything from teen “Exorcist” star Linda Blair to the Brady Bunch. One of their biggest contributions was the then-uncommon notion that you can poke fun at something or someone and respect and revere them at the same time.
It seems ridiculous even now to say that their unabashed affection for those garish fashions, the Partridge Family, Mackenzie Phillips and other pop-culture icons of their childhood was visionary (relatively speaking, anyway), but as the remarkable new documentary “Born Innocent” proves, they were even further ahead of their time than longtime fans had thought. Bands from Black Flag to Nirvana and the indie and Seattle scenes and even Guns N’ Roses and Stone Temple Pilots followed their lead, and a major reason why Redd Kross is nowhere near as famous as those bands — as this doc shows —is because they just couldn’t take the whole thing seriously enough to play the big-league game, even though they had the opportunity.
Popular on PvNew
Through dozens of interviews and candid conversation with Jeff and Steve (together and separately), not to mention their parents, their wives (Go-Gos co-founder Charlotte Caffey and That Dog singer Anna Waronker, respectively), their children, countless bandmates (including their Spinal Tap-like procession of drummers), managers and fellow musicians, the group’s remarkable story is rendered in vivid and focused detail, which moves at a steady clip and impressively avoids many possible rabbit holes. Director Andrew Reich even got the band’s original original lineup to reunite and play an early song.
At a time when most other American punk bands were shouting about hating the police and having no values, Red Cross’ first EP, released in 1980 (and soon the target of a legal letter that led to the current, altered spelling), included an ode to beach-movie icon Annette Funicello and a song called “I Hate My School”; their debut album bore the title of a different scandalous Blair-starring film (“Born Innocent”), was filled with punky songs with titles like “White Trash” and “Cellulite City” and even a cover of a Charles Manson song. But then came the rebellion against the punk scene, the long hair, glammed-out clothes and pop-culture overload, and the basically never left.
In 1987, Redd Kross released one of the greatest power-pop albums of all time, “Neurotica,” but the album and their retro sound and look were far ahead of the mainstream (the muffled production from ex-Ramones drummer Tom Erdelyi did not help; the album has since been remixed and sounds significantly better). But the group’s enormously entertaining live shows — the first time I saw them they played two Beatles covers; the second time, they played two songs from “Jesus Christ Superstar” — are what truly built the legend. Sonic Youth, patron saints of the indie scene with no small pop-culture fetish of their own, worshipped them, as their cofounder Thurston Moore says in the doc; members of Soundgarden and other Seattle bands speak reverentially of their shows in the area.
Major labels swarmed to the group’s shows, but like their kindred spirits of the era, the Replacements, they’d intentionally goof off if they knew A&R execs were in the audience, once playing the Who’s “Tommy” at a high-profile L.A. concert (in its entirety) rather than their own songs. The group signed with Atlantic Records, but were out of their depth in the high-stakes major-label world; Jeff’s substance abuse (which he downplays, although his brother doesn’t) did not make the situation better. The group’s lineup stabilized in the early ‘90s and they released two strong studio albums with “Phaseshifter” and “Show World,” but their moment had passed and after 15 years, with even Steve in his 30s, the group went on what turned out to be a decade-plus-long hiatus.
But they reunited during the 2010s and this documentary — which is seeking distribution —is hitting film festivals coinciding with a major Redd Kross redux: There’s a new, self-titled album dropping late next month — the video for its lead single, “Candy Colored Catastrophe,” was directed by Reich and includes lots of footage from the doc — and a national tour, along with a forthcoming retrospective book and a just-released reissue of their first album.
Yet this documentary is the prize: it not only contextualizes the group and its influence, there are little-known, brain-busting details, like the fact that Steve was basically kidnapped at the age of 13 for several months by Dee, an early manager of the band with whom he had a romantic relationship (yes, at 13), and the fact that David Bowie, presumably drawn by the buzz around Black Flag, was at their first-ever show.
Now in their fifth decade, Redd Kross has had a charmed, star-crossed existence, and “Born Innocent” tells that story in fascinating fashion.
“Born Innocent” has its Los Angeles premiere at the Don’t Knock the Rock Festival on May 23, with a second screening on May 27.