Redd Kross Rocks the Blue Room

Every Redd Kross fan has a story of how they discovered the greatest punk-bubblegum-power-pop combo in the history of human endeavor, and not a single one of them begins with, “Oh, I heard their record on a Top 40 station.” Saturday night, The Spin stood shoulder to shoulder with more than 250 die-hard Redd Kross fans in Third Man Records’ Blue Room, waiting for the band's first Music City performance in 20 years, and we we heard fan origin stories that cut across four decades of their history.

We heard from early adopters, hip to Redd Kross’ teen punk platters Red Cross and Born Innocent; from late-’80s fans who tuned in and freaked out to the band’s retro-psych-pop masterpieces Neurotica and Third Eye; from Gen X rockers who grooved on the post-grunge power-pop masterpieces Phaseshifter and Show World; and from millennials who discovered these “old guys” through the 2012 Redd Kross reunion Researching the Blues. (Our own conversion began in 1986 when The Bangles appeared as guest VJs on MTV and screened Redd Kross' cover of the 1970 Boyce and Hart masterpiece “Blow You a Kiss in the Wind,” the original version of which appeared on an episode of Bewitched.)

One thing united us all: giddy anticipation of an evening of unadulterated rawk.

After a driving and blistering set from Nashville art punks Faux Ferocious, Redd Kross took the stage with little fanfare — none was needed — and launched into their 1993 power-pop ode to the “Lady in the Front Row.” The group kept up a nonstop barrage of songs drawn from the Neurotica period through Researching the Blues, with highlights including “Switchblade Sister,” “Stay Away From Downtown,” “Janus, Jeanie and George Harrison” and “Annie’s Gone.” Pausing for just a few words between songs, the first portion of the show culminated with an epic cover of The Quick’s “Pretty Please Me.”

The brothers McDonald, Jeff and Steve, are the two constants throughout Redd Kross’ history, and remain the central focus. Their current co-Krossers — guitarist Jason Shapiro (a member since 2012) and Melvins drummer Dale Crover (signed on for their current tour) — proved more than capable of keeping up and injecting their personalities into the proceedings.

After a short break to discuss the surreal wonders of Paul Stanley’s stage patter from classic KISS live albums, Redd Kross moved on to the raison d'être for their latest reunion: celebrating the release of an expanded edition of their 1984 bubble-glam-punk manifesto Teen Babes From Monsanto. With Redd Kross’ superb genre-fusing abilities, they tore through the six covers and one original from the EP: KISS’ earth-moving machismo shaker “Deuce”; The Rolling Stones’ Their Satanic Majesty’s Request-era psych nugget “Citadel”; The Shangri-Las’ operatic teen drama “Heaven Only Knows”; The Stooges’ proto-punk apocalyptic cry of anguish “Ann”; the early David Bowie sci-fi epic “Savior Machine”; and the aforementioned “Blow You a Kiss in the Wind.” The album’s lone Redd Kross composition, “Linda Blair,” capped off the set and brought the show to a close — almost.

Returning for an encore, Jeff and Steve McDonald thanked the audience and expressed their amazement at how many people still remembered them. With their culture-shredding influence on some of our favorite rock bands of the past three decades (not to mention Steve McDonald's production of beloved Aughts Nashville punks Be Your Own Pet), how could we forget? They also dropped a reminder that the current lineup is slated to record an album (tentatively titled Octavia), and a note that they hope to return to Nashville before two more decades go by.

With that, they launched into an encore consisting of the Neurotica-era nugget “Peach Kelli Pop,” a double-shot of their early punk ditties (“Annette’s Got the Hits” and “Cover Band”) and a properly amped-up version of The Beatles' “It Won’t Be Long.” It better not be too long before they're back — our brains tingling from exposure to the pure rock power, left-field humor and infectious joy brought by the group that rock critic Ira A. Robbins once referred to as “K-Tel for wackos,” we left hungry for more.