A 'Fresh' start for Devo

Ignorance used to be bliss. Yet somewhere along our evolution as a society, we all went ape.




This week our news media delivered a gem of a story, a slice of life so tasteless it made one almost wish for another aimless balloon over Colorado: the evolution of swine flu parties. People hoping to build immunity to the pandemic are flocking together to get each other sick. Are we witnessing de-evolution at work?



"Well, absolutely," says Gerald Casale, who would co-found rock band Devo soon after he watched his friend die at the hands of the Ohio National Guard. She was one of four students killed on May 4, 1970.



The Kent State University shootings would only further embitter a country already furious with Nixon's relentless actions in Cambodia and Vietnam. Devo, a band out of Akron, coined their name from an overall disgust with the regressive evolution they watched unfold. Man was, in the group's mind, de-evolving. Ergo, Devo.



"There's no question that de-evolution is real. It came true. The world went backwards and down," says Casale, whose band will unleash a pair of remastered albums and hit the road for a seven-city tour Tuesday.



Known for their minimalist synthetic sound, herky-jerky performances and uniform wardrobe -- sometimes clad in JFK wigs, sometimes in flowerpot-like headgear -- Devo sparked two major musical movements during the '70s: punk rock and new wave.



"They really are the first post-modern band," says Jade Dellinger, a Tampa art curator and co-author of We Are Devo!, the group's only biographical account.



"Their ambition was to sign with one of the biggest record companies in the world -- which they did -- and to sort of dismantle them from the inside, which they never did," adds Dellinger.



Warner Bros. Records -- the label that dropped Devo following their 1984 album, Shout -- has partnered again with Devo, the company announced in September. Such a move should be considered sacrilegious, even anti-Devo, given their outspoken attitude toward record companies.



"They're sort of countering what they used to make fun of," says We Are Devo! co-author David Giffels, "but they pull it off in a charming way."



The music industry has changed over the years, argue Mothersbaugh and Casale. It's not about selling albums anymore. Touring brings home the bacon, Devo's leaders proclaim, and Warner Bros. knows how to whip it into shape.



"It's the devil you know," says Casale. "It actually made a lot of sense."



Mothersbaugh admits: "It was ironic. The old Warner Brothers we signed with, they were just thugs. I was totally ready to say 'forget it, I don't want anything to do with it.' But I think we'll be a good match for each other."



"I'm sure this is not some nostalgic move on Warner Brothers Records' part," says Stan Cornyn, a former creative executive at Warner Bros. "These days, it's hits or see ya, and that's not just in Burbank."



Now flirting with age 60, the members of Devo will perform back-to-back nightly shows of two albums in their entirety (Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo! and Freedom of Choice). The band have rehearsed the material since Oct. 21. Between both albums, there are 11 songs they haven't played live in about 30 years, says Casale.



"We try every day to get better at them," he laughs.



"They were predictive. Now they're reprising their past, saying 'I told you so,'" says Robert Margouleff, who produced Devo's 1980 Freedom of Choice album which spawned the hit "Whip It."



"They created their own boogie," says radio personality Kal Rudman. "The Devo crowd in particular catered to a special niche of people, so it becomes a real treat to go see them again."



Call it foreplay; Devo are just getting warmed up. Paunchier, angrier and more passionate about de-evolution than ever, Devo's November live dates should prove to be good practice for the band's scheduled spring tour and first full-length recorded project in 20 years. Just don't call it an album.



"'Album' is just a term to figure out what we're doing," says Mark Mothersbaugh, the other creative half of the Devo brainchild. He would prefer to release Devo's new stuff online, a few songs at a time. "We'll see what comes out. We're having fun so far."



"The working title is Fresh Devo, because it is. We're treating it like produce," Casale points out. "I think it'll carry forward what people like about us."



Devo have stepped away from the console this time around, and have tasked a handful of producers with remixing and reworking the finished tracks. Contributors include Greg Kurstin (Geggy Tah, Kris Allen), John Hill (Shakira, Jay-Z) and DJ Adam Freeland. John King of the Dust Brothers -- a duo known for its textured production of the Beastie Boys' Paul's Boutique -- will produce "Step Up," a new Devo song.



To bookend the new album and tour, a Devo documentary will likely hit the big screen next year, says Tony Pemberton of Go East Productions, a New York-based company.



"Our release date at the moment is for Fall 2010 or Spring 2011, mostly at festivals and, hopefully, immediately in theatres," says Pemberton.



Gerald Casale acknowledges he's working on a Devo biopic that follows the band from its early days in Akron to its first days with Warner Bros.



Mark Mothersbaugh, whose scoring credits include Pee-wee's Playhouse, Rugrats, Wes Anderson's films and, most recently, the animated Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, says he plans to pitch an "Adult Swim-style show" along the lines of "a twisted, dark Dick Tracy." It too will examine the theory of de-evolution.



"Since the beginning we've been kind of anti-stupidity and pro-information," he says. "I'm all for six billion humans, but I'm not for having them on the planet at the same time."



Fresh Devo won't be the last we'll hear from those iconic perpetrators of political prowess.



"I'm hoping that after we put this out there'll be at least one curtain call," Casale laughs.



For their first album in 1978, Devo chose to cover a classic song, one that likely seemed ambitious on paper. What they made was arguably one of the best covers of all time: a rhythmically robotic version of The Rolling Stones' "Satisfaction."



Well into their sixties, The Stones continue to make music and tour the world for their fans. Will Devo follow suit ten years from now? Mothersbaugh and Casale are, after all, the new wave Jagger and Richards: bold, haunting, oddly sexual.



"Who knows," says Mothersbaugh. "Humans might not be around when I'm approaching 70."