There was a time when the very name Dead Kennedys was considered scandalous, especially in this neck of the woods. Forty years later, they’re now a well-respected, punk legacy band — and proud of it.
“We always tended to be on the smart side of the punk spectrum,” guitarist East Bay Ray said this week from his Bay Area home. “And we have a unique sound that you’re not going to hear anywhere else. Most of the Ramones are gone. Part of the Clash is gone. And let’s face it, we’re not going to be around forever. Our shows are getting bigger and bigger — and I can remember the first time we played Boston, doing the Rathskellar. They always seemed to like us in Boston, even with our name.” They return to play Big Night Live on Wednesday.
The band’s instrumental lineup — Ray, drummer D.H. Peligro, and bassist Klaus Flouride — is the very same one that played the Rat and the Channel back in the early ’80s. But they’re long estranged from original frontman Jello Biafra, whose place has been taken by Skip Greer (he’s Biafra’s third replacement; former child star Brandon Cruz was the first).
“It helps that Skip is a team player. He has a skill that we didn’t know he had, to insult the audience in a friendly way. We’ll be in Europe and he’ll make fun of their football. In some ways he’s like Johnny Rotten, except that he hasn’t gone right-wing.”
The Dead Kennedys haven’t gone right-wing either, despite a recent dust-up between them and Biafra — which started after a post supporting Mitt Romney appeared on the band’s Twitter feed.
“That came from our social media person, who cops to it. But certain people don’t care about the truth and like to make themselves bigger by cutting other people down.”
The real problem, says Ray, is a longtime dispute between the band and Biafra, who was also the owner of their record label.
“You know why he’s saying these things — because the record label skimmed $76,000 and wouldn’t pay the band. So he’s got these weapons of mass distraction, shall we say.”
After winning a legal battle, the band acknowledged that Biafra had likely withheld royalties due to an accounting mistake.
“Every human makes mistakes. So you have the choice of learning from it, or denying the mistake ever happened.”
That said, Ray said he’d do a reunion tour if a promoter tried to swing one.
“That’s actually happened, and it wasn’t Klaus, DH or me who said no.”
Meanwhile, the current lineup is exclusively playing songs from their ’80s catalog. Ray said they actually tried debuting new songs onstage a few years back, but dropped them when the audience didn’t react.
“I feel the same way when I see a show. When I see Iggy Pop, I want to hear ‘I Wanna Be Your Dog.’ The songs we have are really enjoyable to play and they’re good songs; that’s why we’re still playing ’em.”
Besides, he says, the topical references still hold up — even “California Uber Alles,” about Jerry Brown’s failed presidential candidacy.
“That’s really about hippie decadence, so it still applies. ‘Bleed for Me’ was about oil, and that’s as big a deal as ever. And ‘Nazi Punks’ (which was strongly anti-Nazi) is still timely. I wish the context for these songs was different, but the situation is actually worse.”
Then there’s their most notorious song, about being too drunk to make love — but of course, that isn’t quite what it’s called. And now we can finally ask if that was a true story.
“It was. But the innocent person shall remain nameless.”
Read More: From scandal to punk legacy, Dead Kennedys return to Boston