Rock 'n' Roll riot

>> The Donnas on growing up, getting boys and going for gold

By GENEVIEVE PAIEMENT

 When four barely post-pubescent Californian cuties in black Converse high-tops and tight jeans stumbled onto the lo-fi, treble-charged rock 'n' roll scene four years ago, a chorus of ageing, die-hard fanboys slurred a collective, "Thank heaven for little girls!" The Donnas had the same allure of underage rock vixens the Runaways and Girlschool, instantly garnering comparisons to the O.G. riot grrrls and becoming the new teen It-girls of punk rock. There was so much to like: they wore felt-lettered T-shirts with their names emblazoned across their chests (Donnas C., A., R. and F.), sang ultra-catchy songs of teen rebellion and perfectly embodied a playful, smokin'-in-the-girls'-room bad attitude.

 The peanut gallery pronounced them Ramones rip-offs. "I think ripping off the Ramones is part of the American way," counters Donna R. (Allison Robertson, guitarist). "A lot of bands do it, but we used to get singled out for copying them--it's not even worth talking about," says Allison, negating the naysayers in one fell swoop. But that was then and this is 2001, the year the Donnas turned 21 and released their oh-so-mature rock opus Turn 21. Bubblegum-munching brats no more, the girls are all growed up and well-travelled, with steady boyfriends and expanded musical prowess.

 "The album's just about where we are right now," says Donna T. (Torry Castellano, drummer), refuting any rumours that they're all that adult (read: boring). "It's not like this huge statement about being adult. It's just that the laws on drinking are so strict in the States and now we can finally sit at the bar in a club and not have to worry about getting kicked out after the show."

 But it's not just their legal status that's changed. Their sound has come a long way too. As former incarnation the Electrocutes, "Brett [Anderson, singer Donna A.] would scream about weird stuff like going to the dentist or fizzy drinks--whatever we were kind of into," Torry explains. "We'd have five different parts to each song and we were doing it so fast and we'd be like, 'Okay, what this song needs is another bridge!'" she giggles.

 NO-FI SUPERFLY

 Then came a fateful meeting with Darrin Raffelli of toilet-paper-clad Mummies fame. Raffelli saw the Electrocutes, became smitten and set out to become the Phil Spector to their Ronettes, writing songs for them and grooming them for something akin to rock stardom.

 "We were about 15 when we met Darrin," Torry recounts. "We just thought he was a funny guy and he asked us if we wanted to record these songs he had as a side project. At first we weren't sure, but then we were like, 'Why not, if someone's actually willing to pay to put the record out. What else do we have to do on a Friday night? Not really anything.'" And so the Donnas were born. "We recorded on, like, basically a tape recorder," she continues. "People would say, 'It's not lo-fi, it's no-fi!' We did three singles with him ["High Scool Yum Yum," " Let's Go Mano!" and "Da Doo Ron Ron"] and they actually sold. We were like, 'What?! We've sold 500 of those things?'"

 When Lookout Records stepped in and asked them to record an album as the Donnas, the Cutes were phased out and American Teenage Rock 'n' Roll Machine was released in '98. From there, the girls started writing their own stuff and Donnas tours were booked, magazines started calling for interviews and their (predominantly older, male) fanbase mushroomed.

 The road from highschool rejects to rock 'n' roll sweethearts wasn't all peach schnapps and cream, though. "When we were 16 we were always wondering why people our age weren't coming to see us, why it was all older guys, which was kind of creepy to us," Allison remembers.

 It seems the kids their age were too busy trying to be exactly like each other to appreciate any originality, especially in girls. "Kids in school would say that girls couldn't play, that we were a joke, that we were lesbians, which I guess to them was derogatory--that just showed how dumb they were. They would literally follow us home to watch us practice, taunting us," Alison says. "People say if we went back, those same kids would be kissing our ass cause the band's doing well. But I don't think they'd give a shit. Their goals are to graduate from Stanford, get drunk, be slutty and then marry a doctor."

 OUGHTA BE IN PICTURES

 You'd think that all the shit they had to put up with from their fascist preppy classmates would plant a hefty chip on their collective shoulder, but the girls prefer to steer clear of politicking. "We're just really into that classic '70s mantra of rock 'n' roll and having fun and trying not to be political or preach to anybody," Allison explains. "We loved bands like Bikini Kill and Huggy Bear, who'd make the guys go to the back of the room. I thought it was cool but it's not something I'd do. We've never been like that." And just because they have a song called "40 Boys in 40 Nights" doesn't mean they're that busy in the boy department. "We base things in fact a lot, but we like to embellish things, to make things up. It makes things funnier," says Torry.

 Still, the Donnas complain of being painted as one of two stereotypes: hardball feminists or debauched rock sluts. "People try to pit us against other girls or make us say we hate guys. Since we're a girl rock 'n' roll band some people think they can ask us really disgusting, lewd questions and they want us to be slutty, and some try to make us out to be hardcore feminists. We can't alienate our fans. We like girls and boys--three-quarters of our fans used to be male. Now it's more like 50-50; it's cool that it's even now."

 Two things that awakened a new generation of chicks to digging the Donnas were their appearances in the trashy teen flicks Jawbreaker with Rose McGowan and Drive Me Crazy, starring Melissa Joan Hart (TV's teen witch, Sabrina). In both films they play "the band" at "the dance."

 "The movies that we're in are pretty bad. I wouldn't recommend them," Allison warns. "But after they came out, all of a sudden these young girls started coming to our shows, saying they first saw us in the movie. And that's the age group we've always aimed for."

 While their audience is getting younger, their sound has come of age, moving away from sloppy no-fi and closer to more solo-riddled, '70s heavy rock with a touch of metal. Blame it on practice and a return to their roots. "When I was listening to a lot of punk bands, at one point I think I actually got worse at my guitar 'cuz I thought, the messier, the cooler," Allison says. "Later I returned to the really cheesy rock 'n' roll that I used to listen to when I was little and I started thinking, Why can't my band sound like this? Like Kiss, Moetley Cruee, AC/DC and Aerosmith. They may be simple bands but they rock." And while they continue to grow musically and performance-wise, so does their knowledge of exactly what they do and don't like about that strange and mysterious species--les boys.

 BOYS, BOYS, BOYS

 Actually, it looks a little like guys' possible don'ts may outweigh their do's with these seasoned rock tour-ists. "There's this thing that some boys do, which is to touch the small of your back and that's not okay. Like they think they know you 'cuz they bought your record," Torry complains. Allison agrees that presumptuousness is a major turn-off for the girls. "It's like, we may be a band and we may party, but one thing we don't do is have wild orgies, or go out with strangers." When I ask about them about their "favourite boys" listed on their official Web site, Torry says she chose Snoop Dogg because "I like how he does his hair" and River Phoenix because "even though I felt kinda weird putting him down 'cuz he's dead, I still think he's cute." Allison's fave boy was listed as goofball '70s sitcom icon Jack Tripper. "I love him!" she gushes. "Three's Company is my favourite TV show and as a kid I had a big crush on him. I'm attracted to guys who are silly and smart, cute and kinda manly, but not too muscular."

 When it comes to the reality of après-show socializing, though, Allison says the bouquets of flowers and professions of undying love they get doesn't affect them that much. "Me and Maya [Ford, Donna F. the bassist] and my best friend Amy were always the weird, nerdy girls in high school, so in the back of my head I'm always thinking that guys my age think I'm a weirdo." But guys of a different age--that's a different story: her heart still belongs to Gene Simmons. Sort of.

 "We met Gene," she recounts, "when we were filming the video for our Kiss cover on the Detroit Rock City tribute album and he was really nice. I think he was trying hard not to be lecherous 'cuz he thought we were even younger than we are. And I'm such a big fan that I would have felt weird if he was like that with us 'cuz he's old enough to be our dad. I was teasing him about his hair and then I made him sign a dollar bill that said, "To Allison, I'm your biggest fan. Love Gene." :

 The Donnas play Club Soda on March 14, with Bratmobile, $15, for tickets call 286-1010