By Melissa Fossum
By Lauren Wise
By New Times
By Amanda Savage
By Jason P. Woodbury
By Troy Farah
By New Times
At one point in its history, it was entirely possible that Imperial Teen would forever be associated with Rose McGowan and her deadly confection, given the fact that the band is best known for contributing the creepy, stalkerish "Yoo-Hoo" to the soundtrack of the 1999 film Jawbreaker. The fact that the group dropped off pop culture's radar almost immediately following that success, thanks to major-label fuckwittery, made that fate even more of a probability.
The time has come, though, for the Imperial Teens to take the throne, clad in their cutesy tan-on-tan (with regal red accents) uniforms. Taking pop-punk and questions of gender performance to new levels, the Teens are the vanguard of the indie-cool cadre, making a great leap forward for the bubblegrunge revolution. No one will be spared, especially label flacks and homophobic rock writers looking for a gimmick.
Imperial Teen was formed as a side project by former Faith No More keyboardist Roddy Bottum in 1995. He and Lynn Perko, a fellow San Franciscan and then-drummer for blues-rock outfit Sister Double Happiness, were seeking a musical outlet to scratch a creative itch that their respective projects couldn't reach. Seeking to emulate their indie-rock heroes the Pixies, Bottum and Perko recruited bassist Jone Stebbings (Perko's former bandmate in the Wrecks) and art student turned singer-guitarist Will Schwartz to fill out the co-ed roster.
Six months later, the foursome had recorded a debut album, Seasick, a punkish-pop masterpiece that, while a little rough around the edges, encapsulates the indie spirit that led the quartet to fuse bubbly pop hooks with crunching guitar lines and snarling, smarty-pants lyrics. But it wasn't really the hooks or the musicianship that turned people's heads. It was the words.
Two years after Blur sang the safe-sex anthem for "girls who are boys who like boys to be girls who do boys like they're girls" and so on, Bottum and company smudged the lines, with little irony, between what it means to be "boy" or "girl." Gender roles are swapped as easily as instruments within an Imperial Teen song. On "Butch," Bottum sings nonchalantly of the prince wanting to be a queen, then later sings that "you kiss me like a man, boy" ("You're One"). Many critics seized upon the fact that Bottum is an out-and-proud homosexual, hungry for an angle and flogging the factoid for all it was worth. Roddy Bottum is gay, gay, gay! Imperial Teen is chock-full of friends of Dorothy!
"On one hand, it doesn't really matter," says Schwartz, "but on the other hand, it does matter to people who are gay and don't have a person to look to in public who is okay with it and who's kind of cool." True, but it is horribly grating to pick up an article about the band and read about gay musician Roddy Bottum, unless that article is a profile in Outmagazine. Schwartz laughs it off, saying that the only writers who really hone in on it are straight men.
It seems the band is only concerned with making music. But, as is often the case in this biz, at a few points in their careers, the band members themselves were the only ones interested in their ability to make and release music, despite the fact that their label, London, was obliged to get the music out there. The group's second album, What Is Not to Love, languished in the cogs of the London machine and was finally released in 1999, at which point it was marketed to all the wrong people.
"We were presented as more of a mainstream pop band with our last record company," explains Schwartz. "I think there are elements of that, like we definitely make music for the people, but I think the heart of our band is more independent. It wasn't really appropriate, in a sense, the way they presented the band." London made a critical tactical error in trying to market a rather subversive "pop" band with lyrics about sex, drugs and pathological behavior to the general public, but this miscalculation can be chalked up to the fact that, by the late '90s, bands were either "modern rock" or they weren't. Just as there are a million and 12 Britney and boy-band impersonators trying to cash in on today's kiddy-pop phenomenon, if a band didn't sound like Nirvana back in the '90s, no one was going to buy the records, no matter how good they were.
After What Is Not to Love's lukewarm reception by the public and the media, Imperial Teen went back into the woodwork for a while. Bottum and Schwartz relocated to Los Angeles, while Perko and Stebbings remained in the Bay Area. The group became the victim of a label purge that left it adrift on the business side of things. Fans began to wonder if this was the end.
Schwartz shrugs off the mystery of Imperial Teen's hibernation. "There were a lot of changes going on, individually and collectively," he says. "During that time we continued to play and record music; it just took a while to get it completed and put it out." The group recorded On,its third release, complete with hand claps and "woo!s" and breathy, sexy vocals, under the production supervision of newlyweds Anna Waronker (That Dog) and Steven McDonald (Redd Kross). Once the album was recorded, the band started shopping around for a label, with the understanding that majors were out of the question.