By Eleni P. Austin
“Everybody searching for that sweet spot in life, the ghost of perfection brings frustration and strife, look inside, take a ride, human nature will abide, it’s magnetic the pull of this siren’s song, but beware they might be steering you wrong…” That’s Redd Kross hoping to harness their muse on “Too Good To Be True,” a deep cut from their brand spanking new record, Redd Kross.
Every few years, Redd Kross checks in with a new album that blows our collective minds. This time, they’ve delivered a self-titled opus, nicknamed The Redd Album, a sly homage to The Beatles sprawling 1968 release, dubbed The White Album.
Redd Kross first emerged in 1979, inspired by Los Angeles’ thriving Punk scene. Originally known as The Tourists, the nucleus of the band has always been brothers Jeff (guitar/vocals) and Steven McDonald (bass). The pair grew up in the suburb of Hawthorne (home to musical wunderkinds like Brian Wilson and Emit Rhodes). They were 11 and 14 when they played their first official gig, opening for Black Flag.
The brothers took their musical cues from Iggy Pop and The Stooges, David Bowie, Led Zeppelin, T. Rex and The Who. Pop Culture obsessions included Kiss, Tater Tots, The Exorcist (the name Red Cross, was a reference to an onanistic scene from the film), Linda Blair, Saturday Morning cartoons, Charles Manson, The Partridge Family and The Carpenters. Once the band gained a bit of notoriety, the International Red Cross threatened legal action, so they changed the spelling to Redd Kross.
Rodney Bingenheimer was an early champion of Redd Kross, playing their nascent recordings on his weekly KROQ radio show, Rodney On The Roq. Their debut EP arrived in 1980. They quickly followed up a year later with their endearingly ramshackle long-player, Born Innocent (of course the title came from a cheesy TV movie starring Linda Blair). A second EP, Teen Babes From Monsanto was rife with teenage touchstones, deep cut covers of David Bowie, Rolling Stones, Shangri-La’s, Stooges, Kiss and Monkees’ songwriters Boyce & Hart, plus one original, “Linda Blair.”
That EP served as a warm-up for their masterwork, 1987’s Neurotica. Moving beyond their kitschy inspirations, they offered up a thick slab of Glam, Punk, Psychedelia and Power Pop. Label woes kept the band in limbo for a few years until they signed with legendary Atlantic Records. Released in 1990, Third Eye was a sharp distillation of all that came before. Rave reviews accompanied a bit of commercial success as iridescent tracks like “Annie’s Gone” and “Bubblegum Factory” received significant airplay on MTV. The band was finally moving beyond their niche status.
Redd Kross slowed their roll in the ‘90s, recording only two records, Phaseshifter and Show World, released in 1993 and 1997, respectively. As Grunge receded and Rap-Rock, Boy Bands and ex-Mouseketeers flooded the airwaves, the brothers decided to take a break from Redd Kross and each other. Both had recently married, Jeff to Go-Go’s guitarist Charlotte Caffrey and Steven to Anna Waronker from the band that dog.
Aside from Ze Malibu Kids, a family project that featured both brothers, their spouses and offspring, Jeff and Steven followed divergent musical paths for the first decade of the 21st century. Jeff maintained a low profile, appearing as a band member In Allison Anders’ magnificent Things Behind The Sun film. Meanwhile, Steven spread his wings creatively, producing records for Turbonegro, Fun and Imperial Teen. He added bass to albums by John Doe, Kristian Hoffman, Tenacious D. and Sparks. In 2010, along with Circle Jerks frontman Keith Morris, he formed OFF! Five years later, he joined veteran Punk band, The Melvins. In between those commitments, he and Jeff reconvened Redd Kross and released Researching The Blues in 2012. Their best effort to date, it featured the classic Neurotica era line-up of guitarist Robert Hecker and drummer Roy McDonald (no relation).
Seven years later, they returned with another stunning effort, Beyond The Door. This time out, the band included guitarist Jason Shapiro and Melvins drummer Dave Crower. 2024 saw the release of Born Innocent: The Redd Kross Story, a documentary directed by Andrew Reich. In October, Now You’re One Of Us, an oral history of the band, will be published. Now they’ve just released their eighth album.
The opening trio of tracks unleashes a three-pronged attack that finds Redd Kross all over the map (in a good way). “Candy Coloured Catastrophe” opens with jangly acoustic guitars and hushed vocals before revved-up guitars, fluid bass, dayglo keys and a bludgeoning beat kick out the jams on the chorus. The melody and arrangement land somewhere between the Velvet Underground’s “Pale Blue Eyes” and The Breeders’ “Cannonball.” Lyrics like “You paint your masterpiece upon your face, the only picture that you paint that’s real, the fractured mirror reflects the distance that you feel, in your mind, no one knows at all, who decides if it’s art at all,” mines the feelings of self-doubt and insecurity that devil the art of creation. A distorto guitar solo on the break accelerates over sugary acoustic licks, ratcheting up the tension, up until the song’s shuddery conclusion.
A final note of feedback lingers in the air before folding into the slash-and-burn allure of “Stunt Queen.” Raffish guitar riffs splash across search-and-destroy bass and a bludgeoning beat. Biting lyrics take an attention whore to task with ruthless efficiency: “Back at it again, it’s impossible to be your friend, telling those lies, I can see it in your mania eyes, all this attention is making you high, yes it does/A neurotic kink motivates an addiction to fame, yes, you are just the roast of the town, but you seem to like it that way.” Squally guitars spiral above the mix unleashing their full power on the break and then achieving lift-off on the final instrumental coda.
The action slows on “The Main Attraction,” Redd Kross gently flips the script, wrapping sylvan acoustic guitars and urgent electric riffs around Jeff and Steve’s fraternal harmonies and a stutter-step beat. Half mission-statement and half cosmic karmic convergence, the lyrics put away childish things: “No more distractions, I hear this message coming through, and may all my actions from below and above, be motivated by love, be motivated by love.”
Throughout the decades of Redd Kross’ existence, Jeff and Steven have, more than not, written songs separately, rather than together. But that dynamic has shifted for this record, perhaps thanks to both brothers viewing Peter Jackson’s epic version of The Beatles’ Get Back documentary. Here, more than half the record is a brotherly co-write. Stand-outs include the Bubblegum crunch of “The Shaman’s Disappearing Robe” which blends strafing guitars, plush keys, boinging bass and a walloping beat. Cryptic lyrics hint at a Mason-like “Family” that barters acceptance for cold, hard cash: “The evil queen of Wilton Place, brand new clothes and a plastic face, the con artiste controls the lease, the angel dust harem.”
Then there’s the Baroque hoedown of “Back In The Cave,” which champions artistic freedom over mass acceptance. If The Kinks and The Bay City Rollers ever joined forces, it might sound a bit like “Simple Magic.” Hell-for-leather guitars ride roughshod over barbed bass lines and a galloping gait. Lyrics interject a bit of humanity into a majestic homage to the power of three simple chords: “Fancy thoughts of mystery, storied tunes of history, played together any key, we can live in harmony, many things we can explore, simple magic, nothing more.”
Meanwhile, there’s a pastoral grace to “The Witches Stand” as sun-dappled guitars wash over shimmering keys, thrumming bass and a sturdy beat. Jabberwocky lyrics are replete with non-sequitur shout-outs to original Rolling Stones guitarist Brian Jones, Silver Screen Siren Jean Harlow and K-POP sensation Park Bom.
Finally, “Emanuelle Insane” splits the difference between shambolic and sitar-riffic. Razor-sharp riffs collide with snake-charmer sitar-flavored licks, slinky bass and a chunky beat. It feels like an obverse tribute to their first single, “Annette’s Got The Hits.” Instead of waxing rhapsodic about everyone’s favorite OG Mouseketeer, the lyrics hone in on the soft-core erotica of the Emanuelle films, with just a dash of Bowie’s Aladdin Sane. On the break, sludgy rhythm riffs are supplanted by angry, Murder Hornet guitars that nearly tip the track into cacophony.
While the MacDonald brothers have always worn their ‘70s influences on their sleeves, both were born in the ‘60s, and that era definitely made it’s mark. The best tracks here are less Kiss-tastic, cycling through a plethora of styles, even offering a sly wink toward the British Invasion innovation of The Kinks, The Who, and of course, The Fab Four.
Take the swirly Psychedelia of “Good Times Propaganda Band,” which matches tight, fraternal harmonies with swooping guitars, crushed velvet keys, whirring bass lines and a chugging beat. Cavalier lyrics offer no apologies for their sui generis sound: “I play Electric, I must be connected, what can I say, if it bums your ears just go away, cause I must play electric.” Things get positively kaleidoscopic on the break as keening guitar weaves through a gauzy tapestry of bleepy-bloopy keys and percolating percussion.
Even as “Stuff” bemoans our crass consumerism: “I’d rather be remembered for what I’ve said and done not what I’ve bought or commissioned by the ton,” It pack-rats the track with thrashy keys, ricocheting guitars, boomerang bass, and a walloping beat. Jeff and Steven dot the arrangement with a few Mop-Top-y “woo’s” and the break fuses a fractious, frenetic guitar solo to a feverish beat.
The fury that ignites “Cancione Enojada” is directed toward a tedious know-it-all. Careening guitars connect with bristling bass and a piledriver beat. Lyrically, they pull no punches: “You, this track is for you, there’s never a peaceful easy feeling ‘til you’re gone.” Yikes, evoking an icky Eagles lyric, what has this asshole done to incur such unbridled rage? Stinging guitars spiral and strafe across the break, mirroring the lyrical angst.
Although not explicitly named, “Terrible Band” seems to revisit Redd Kross’ Manson fixation. Spiky guitars, buzzy bass and creepy-crawly keys are wed to a start-stop beat. Helter-Skelter lyrics set the scene: “He was strange in his presentation, a uniformed disguise, sitting there with his million mile stare, nothing behind the eyes/Making claims of rare and perfect vision, turn over all personal possessions, the yods and the sods mixed up in cults, toiling away with bad results, unbearable man in a terrible band.” Between the pummeling percussive attack, the rhythmic, windmilling guitar and trebly, twanging bass runs on the break, the arrangement recalls calibrated chaos originally perfected by The Who.
“What’s In It For You” locks into an hypnotic groove, powered by shapeshifter guitars, woozy keys, descending bass and a hopscotching beat. A sweet relationship goes sour: “The poles again reverse, the earth flips on it’s axis, turning the page once more, opportunities and chances.” Before the lyrics can assess the pros and cons that accompany this paradigm shift, a stuttery, morse-code guitar solo unspools on the break. Pretty quickly, time signatures shifgt, into a banjo-riffic dos-i-do, speeding up before collapsing into a sweaty, sodden heap. Finally, somewhere between Phil Spector and The Zombies, stands the candy-coated stomp of “I’ll Take Your Word For It.” The chiming guitars, wily bass runs, squiggly keys and propulsive beat nearly camouflage the lyrics’ bitter kiss-off: “I’m not angry, just sad, and not keeping tabs, do you really care, or just poking fun. Poking the bear, ah-oh/Are you my friend, are you my foe, I don’t know, cuz every time you’re round, I end up on the ground, from words designed to take me down, you don’t need to show me I don’t need this shit, I’ll take your word for it.”
Other intriguing tracks include the aforementioned “Too Good To Be True,” and “Way Too Happy” which answers a post-show characterization of the band from Kurt Cobain from back in the day. The record closes with “Born Innocent” an origin story of sorts that the brothers wrote to play over the credits of the documentary. Sweet, sour, stompy and scabrous, it’s the perfect finish to a watershed record.
For this album, the holy triumvirate of Jeff, Steven and guitarist Jason Shapiro is augmented by ex-Red Hot Chili Pepper Josh Klinghoffer who not only produced the record, but added drums, keys and percussion.
45 years in, Redd Kross exhibits the same verve and enthusiasm that they did when they were kids. The only difference is their music has become more sure-footed and nuanced. They’ve created the perfect synthesis of Garage/Glam-Pure Punk/Power Pop that remains slightly shambolic and rough around the edges. Beg, borrow or steal this record. Your ears will thank you.
