This story was originally published in the August 11, 1994 issue of Rolling Stone.
The Santa Monica beachfront, a sun-drenched expanse synonymous with California leisure, played host to a decidedly un-leisurely scene. At Gladstone’s, a renowned seafood institution, the members of the influential rock band L7 were indulging in what they described as "Godzilla food"—platters of lobster, clams, mussels, and shrimp, served by a waitress clad in microshorts. This was not merely a meal; for L7, it was a ritual, a symbolic assertion of their hard-won success. "Ever since we signed to a major label, whenever we have any kind of meeting, we make them take us out for lobster," vocalist Donita Sparks explained with a disarming cheerfulness, a statement that underscored their pragmatic approach to industry dealings.
Their attire, a deliberate counterpoint to the typical beachside fashion, further amplified their distinctive presence. Bassist Jennifer Finch, sporting a cropped top and a pierced navel, multiple tattoos, and a sturdy build, presented a look that was less overtly sexual and more confrontational. Drummer Dee Plakas’s electric green hair and guitarist Suzi Gardner’s vibrantly patched leather jacket, a nod to ’70s revival trends, cemented their status as the most visually striking individuals in the establishment. This deliberate embrace of the unconventional was a hallmark of L7’s identity, a brand of punk rock that, while finding its stride in the era of grunge and riot grrrl, was deeply rooted in an older, more visceral punk ethos.
The Punk Rock Pedigree and a "Fuck-You" Ethos
L7’s sonic blueprint was firmly etched in the annals of punk pioneers like the Ramones, the Sex Pistols, and X. Their music was characterized by an "insanely energetic sloppiness," a deliberate embrace of raw power over polished perfection. The guitars, wielded by Sparks and Gardner, emitted a mean, squealing, subversive sound, functioning as formidable weapons in their musical arsenal. Their lyrics possessed a tough, uncompromising quality, championing a fiercely feminist agenda that echoed the spirit of "Thelma & Louise" blowing up the truck.
This defiant spirit was powerfully articulated in "Shirley," a track from their then-new album, Hungry for Stink. The song’s anthemic refrain, "How many times must you be told / There’s nowhere we don’t go," served as a potent declaration of their boundary-pushing ambitions. The track sampled a pivotal moment from the film Heart Like a Wheel, featuring drag racer Shirley Muldowney’s iconic retort to a reporter’s patronizing question: "Winning." L7’s relentless repetition of "Winning" over the track underscored their own unwavering determination in a male-dominated industry.
"It was so ironic, because in the beginning, we used to get a lot of questions like that," Finch recalled, referencing the perennial inquiries about women in a man’s world. L7, however, vehemently rejected categorization. They were not "foxcore," riot grrrls, or any other label that sought to pigeonhole them based on their gender.
Deconstructing Gendered Expectations in Music Journalism
Finch articulated a frustration with how music journalism often perpetuated gendered narratives. "To create genre out of gender is just horrible to me," she stated. "I think journalism perpetuates that. I hope the story angles for L7 will eventually be the same as for Nirvana or Cracker. There’s a uniqueness in being a woman, but not that much." This desire for their music to be judged on its artistic merit rather than their gender was a consistent theme in their public discourse.
Despite their desire to transcend gendered classifications, L7 did not shy away from using their gender as a tool for provocation. A notorious incident at England’s Reading Festival in 1992 saw Sparks remove her tampon onstage and toss it into the stunned audience. While the incident garnered significant attention, it did not translate into endorsements from menstrual product companies, though Midol, whose products were on L7’s concert rider, did once send them a substantial quantity of merchandise.
A Unified Front: The Power of Camaraderie
L7 operated with a fierce camaraderie that rivaled that of any professional sports team. Cigarettes, political discourse, and an unwavering sense of unity formed the bedrock of their collective identity. There were no individual stars within L7; they eschewed individual interviews and photoshoots, presenting themselves as a cohesive unit. This unified approach extended to their communication, where members often finished each other’s sentences, a testament to their deep understanding and shared experiences, which frequently led to inside jokes.
"Being misquoted happens to us a lot," Finch admitted, a sentiment that fueled their protective stance. Her suspicion of the interviewer, asking if the story was pitched or assigned and if the reporter had traveled from New York specifically for the interview, highlighted their vigilance in guarding their narrative.
Early Days and the Influence of a Bohemian Patroness
The band’s origins in the mid-1980s were marked by a unique patronage. They practiced at the home of Maxine Nazworthy, the philanthropic Max Factor heiress, who served as a benevolent patron to a burgeoning scene of Los Angeles punk bands, including the Chemical People, Redd Kross, and Down by Law. "It was funny driving to Beverly Hills to rehearse," Finch reflected, noting the ironic juxtaposition of their punk aesthetic with the opulent surroundings.
The band members hailed from different parts of California and the Midwest: Finch was a native Angeleno, while Sparks and Plakas were transplants from Chicago, and Gardner grew up in Sacramento. Gardner recalled her disillusionment with the local music scene in her hometown. "All these losers that were in my hometown playing rock & roll, they didn’t have a clue," she stated, emphasizing her drive to escape and pursue her musical ambitions.
Echoes of Dark Realities: The River’s Edge Connection
A darker chapter in Gardner’s past emerged with Sparks’ mention of her involvement in the River’s Edge scandal. The 1986 film, based on a true crime case involving a teenager who murdered his girlfriend and then showed the body to his friends, resonated deeply with Gardner. "‘River’s Edge’ epitomizes that whole area and the kids I hung out with," she explained. The chilling admission from Finch, "Suzi found the body," and Gardner’s near-death experience, "I nearly was that body," painted a stark picture of the volatile environment that shaped her early life. This close encounter with mortality, however, served as a catalyst, leading her to connect with Sparks and eventually form L7.
Charting a Course to Success: From Indie Roots to Mainstream Recognition
After navigating through several less-than-ideal bandmates, L7 found its definitive lineup with Finch and Plakas. Their early releases, including their 1988 self-titled debut on Epitaph and the 1990 Sub Pop EP Smell the Magic, established their raw sound. However, it was the 1992 album Bricks Are Heavy and its unexpectedly commercial single, "Pretend We’re Dead," that propelled them into the mainstream, selling over 250,000 copies and significantly boosting their CD sales.
Their artistic reach extended beyond music when they portrayed the fictional band The Camel Lips in John Waters’ 1994 film Serial Mom. Finch expressed their honor in participating, stating, "We were honored to do it, ‘cause we’ve been John Waters fans for a long time." This collaboration with the cult filmmaker underscored their alignment with a sensibility that embraced the transgressive and the darkly humorous.
Hungry for Stink and the Triumph of Raw Energy
As L7 prepared for a summer of touring with Lollapalooza, anticipation for Hungry for Stink was high. The album was hailed as a triumph of stripped-down energy over fleeting trends, a record that seemed destined for significant commercial success. While the album included the occasional introspective track like "Andres," which showcased Sparks’ remarkably expressive vocal range, it was the band’s pervasive sense of defiance that elevated the record. The track "Fuel My Fire," with its "Tilt-a-Whirl rhythm section," exemplified their ability to create music that was both assaultive and joyous, fueled by Sparks’ defiant declaration, "People like you just fuel my fire!"
Political Activism: Rock for Choice and the Fight for Reproductive Rights
Beyond their music, L7 was deeply committed to political activism, most notably through Rock for Choice, a pro-choice organization they co-founded in 1991. Their aim was to leverage their platform to advocate for reproductive rights, a cause that gained urgency during the Bush administration. "When we started Rock for Choice, one of the things that concerned us the most was that Bush was in office representing a huge contingent to take away women’s rights," Sparks explained. Their focus evolved to grassroots efforts, providing crucial support like surveillance equipment and bulletproof vests for clinic workers, which cost approximately $2,500 each.
Rock for Choice events had successfully raised substantial funds for the Fund for the Feminist Majority, exceeding their initial goals. However, the challenges of organizing in politically charged environments were evident. A large show in Pensacola, Florida, featuring Pearl Jam, generated less revenue than anticipated due to high production costs and the insistence of local law enforcement on a substantial security staff. This incident highlighted the resistance they faced in "good-old-boy territory," where the threat of show cancellation loomed.
Confronting Adversaries: Onstage and Off
L7 was not unaccustomed to confronting sexism, even at their own shows. Finch recounted instances of crude audience demands, such as "Show us your tits," delivered in what she characterized as "perfect Beavis-and-Butt-head-ese." However, L7 consistently asserted their dominance, armed with microphones and a formidable stage presence. "To battle us is ridiculous," Finch stated, underscoring their power dynamic.
Enduring Realities: Finances and Family Ties
Despite their growing success, L7’s financial realities remained grounded. The leftover lobster from their Gladstone’s feast, lovingly wrapped in tinfoil, represented a practical approach to their earnings. Gardner wistfully mentioned her ’73 Cadillac, which required extensive repairs, and Plakas drove a well-worn, bumper-sticker-adorned vehicle. Family remained a vital support system. "My dad still drives us to the airport," Finch said, acknowledging his role as the "band dad." When touring in other cities, their mothers provided support, with Suzi’s and Dee’s mothers cooking for them, and Donita’s mother also contributing meals.
Global Encounters and the Double-Edged Sword of Fame
Their tours in Brazil and Japan in support of Bricks Are Heavy offered L7 a glimpse of their escalating fame, characterized by fervent fan interactions. Gardner described the experience as novel at first, but ultimately a "pain in the ass." Brazilian fans, she noted, were particularly aggressive, while Japanese fans exhibited a more reserved but persistent approach, waiting for hours outside their hotel. "In Brazil, they’ll rip your hair out," Plakas recalled. Finch, however, suggested that a calm approach usually sufficed, though Sparks interjected that this was not the case in Brazil, where language barriers and intense fan behavior led to their bus being chased down the street. The desire for even their cigarette butts underscored the extreme level of fan devotion they encountered.
Celebrity Encounters and a Glimpse of the Future
As their star power grew, L7 found themselves more comfortable interacting with celebrities. Finch recounted a peculiar encounter with Angelyne, the iconic Los Angeles personality. Finch asked Angelyne for an autograph with a "Good luck on Lollapalooza" inscription, only to receive a vague response about having done an interview for "a Lollapalooza." The exchange culminated with Angelyne offering Finch her card for video work, a surreal moment that left Finch musing, "I saw a lot of us in her, in 20 years, with her pink Corvette." This humorous reflection hinted at the band’s awareness of the fleeting and often bizarre nature of fame, while also acknowledging their own enduring commitment to their unique path.
