Details March 1997
SQUEALING BEAUTY
NEW BASSIST, NEW RECORD. SAME NASTY ATTITUDE. L7 MOVE INTO THE BIG LEAGUES.
By Suzan Colon
If you ever wandered into the grade-school bathroom and realized you were about to get your ass kicked, then you know what it's like to meet L7. The Los Angeles-based quartet are notoriously prickly: They've walked out on a journalist; they even threatened to blow up his toilet. Which is why the prospect of talking to the band about their new album, The Beauty Process: Triple Platinum, makes Depend undergarments seem like the appropriate fashion choice.
We meet at a place called Dilma's Beauty Salon in L.A. The theory is that a day of hardcore Hollywood glamour will chill their inner beasts. And indeed, the members of L7 are tough as nails. But today, at least, they're also surprisingly friendly.
Guitarist Suzi Gardner insists that L7 are only moved to threats of violence when dumb writers ask them demeaning questions- like how it feels to be a woman in rock. "That's like asking someone what it's like to be black and be in a band," she has said. "The fact that we have poontangs is secondary." The adjective "balls" gets a similar response: "We've schooled our staff to say 'It's got clit,'" singer/guitarist Donita Sparks says, smiling and flashing a gold-capped tooth. "Or at least 'fierce reproductive organs.'"
When it comes to the music, The Beauty Process, L7's fifth album, really does have fierce reproductive organs. But without losing an inch of their infamous rusty-razor edge, L8 have stopped grittng their teeth and instead put their collective tongue in cheek. There's an actual hummable melody ("Drama") and guitars that shuffle and twang ("Me, Myself & I"). Songs like the single "Off the Wagon" ("Just how much I embarrassed myself / Well I haven't got a clue / Did I throw a drink in your face / Or tell you how much I love you?" ) display a newfound sense of irony. Who could have guessed that L7 would outlast -and outplay- all the other grrrl bands that came of age in the '90's?
This unexpected maturity is an interesting twist for a group that's been living on loud chunky riffs and bombastic drums since 1985, when Suzi and Donita met, went on a five-day bender, and formed the band. Rounded out by drummer Dee Plakas and bassist Jennifer Finch, L7 ('60s surfer lingo for "square") distinguished themselves over the years by hurling a used tampon at a British audience, appearing as the abrassive femme-metal band Camel Lips in John Waters' Serial Mom, and founding Rock for Choice, a nonprofit organization dedicated to raising pro-choice awareness among the mosh-pit set. With its radio-friendly sheen, The Beauty Process may finally help L7 distinguish themselves on the charts, too.
Since the band seem to have no interest in rippling my head off, I figure it's a good time to bring up the departure of longtime bassist Jennifer Finch. Suddenly, things get a bit chilly.
"She left to go back to school," says Donita, with rollers in her (newly) blond hair and a cigarette dangling from her lips.
What did she go back to school for?
"We dont' know. She's enrolled in Santa Monica College, and we don't really know what she's going to school for."
Suzi, whose soft-spoken exterior belies her crunchy center, gingerly says she "kind of always knew Jennifer was going to do that at some point." She and Donita exchange looks that suggest they're choosing their words carefully.
It's hard to gauge how L7 really feel about Finch's departure; they won't say much, and their best wishes have a flat tone. But maybe there's not much to say when someone you've worked with, played with, and practically lived with for ten years suddenly quits in the midst of a recording session. "We went through a lot of different emotions, and we wish her well," says Donita. Case closed.
"When L7 calls, you have to serve your country," says new bassist Gail Greenwood. "There really was no question about it."
The mood gets much warmer when Donita explains how new member Gail Greenwood (former bassist of Belly) joined the band. Belly was history by then, and Gail was working on a new band. Then a mutual friend form the Lunachicks recommended her- and she dropped everything. "When L7 calls, you have to serve your country. There really was no question about it," she says. "Some of the bands I was in before this were fun, but they didn't rock like L7. And I wanted to seriously rock." They clicked on the first phone call; by the time the new L7 took off on a mini tour of the West Coast, the girls were having "a regular yukfest."
"It feels like it did when I first joined the band," says Dee. "That's a hard thing to get back. It's ironic that it should happend around the time of our tenth anniversary, like a cycle."
Gail admits it won't be easy to replace Jennifer Finch, who was a prominent member in a band full of potential frontwomen. "My mom even asked, 'Are her friends gonna throw things at you?' But Jennifer wanted to move on, and I'm ready to help bring L7 into the year 2000. I dont' know what people will think, though. I don't wanna be the next Sammy Hagar"
But Gail's not worrying too much- she's nearly fanlike with glee. "The first time I came to L.A. to practice with the band. I actually caught myself midsong going, 'I can't believe I'm playing with L7! I must be the luckiest girl in America.' It's so amazing... But," she says with a wicked grin, "ask me again in a year. I'll probably hate the bitches."
Suzan Colon swears by a good mud pack.