Any fan of D.C.’s 1980s punk and new wave music scene has likely heard of Razz 鈥� the explosive and original band destined to be the next big thing.
Yet, many of those entertained and fascinated by Razz 鈥� including me 鈥� never got the chance to see them, between their start in 1971 and breakup in late 1979.
Spoiler alert: The D.C.-area band regarded by many as most-likely to reach rock stardom, didn鈥檛.
Yet, Razz’s impact continues to fuel interest about the band that became an area phenomenon, amid a club scene dominated by cover bands and a record industry that found them impossible to label.
Saturday, filmmakers Jeff Krulik and Richard Taylor will screen an extended director鈥檚 cut of聽at AFI Silver Theatre and Cultural Center in Silver Spring, Maryland.
鈥淲hen you saw Razz at a small place, like The Keg (in Georgetown), or Childe Harold (in Dupont Circle) or the Psychedelly (in Bethesda), the experience was 鈥榯his is incredible 鈥� this is national talent in a small room,鈥� Taylor told 草莓传媒.
Krulik agrees: 鈥淲hen you saw them, it was a long-lasting impression, which is why there鈥檚 still a fan base today.鈥�
At the center of Razz 鈥� sometimes called 鈥� was singer Michael Reidy, the whirling dervish frontman, who once cut open drummer Doug Tull鈥檚 bass drum head and climbed inside, during a live performance.
Guitarist Bill Craig and bassist Ted Nicely anchored Razz. Still-rocking guitarist Abaad Behram and the late Tommy Keene flourished after Razz.
Razz鈥檚 music predated D.C.鈥檚 still-to-be-hatched hardcore punk scene, yet they were connected to the younger Georgetown Punks. Skip Groff, owner of Yesterday & Today Records produced records by Razz, along with early efforts from teen punks Teen Idles and Minor Threat.
“One of the things punk music did was ‘Do It Yourself’ 鈥� put out your own records, write your own original material, and Razz certainly was a part of that,” said Taylor. “But they were much more of a rock 鈥檔鈥� roll band, kind of a garage, kind of Stones-y rock 鈥檔鈥� roll band.”
The making of the movie
Creating a documentary film of a band whose heyday was in the 1970s is very different than it would be for a band poised to break big in 2023.
“There was a time when people didn鈥檛 have easy access to recording devices in their back pocket,” said Krulik, whose other film credits include cult classic “Heavy Metal Parking Lot,”聽 “Led Zeppelin Played Here,” and “”
“There鈥檚 live recordings, there鈥檚 fan cassette recordings, there鈥檚 certainly photographs, but there鈥檚 really limited, little-to-no live performance footage,” said Krulik.
Krulik and Taylor have been researching and doing interviews for the Razz documentary for more than five years.
“People are going to be surprised by some of the stuff we have,” teased Taylor. “Stuff which has never been seen before.”
The film鈥檚 oral history will paint pictures, to supplement the footage.
“We interviewed Skip Groff, before he passed away,鈥� in 2019, said Taylor. “We鈥檝e interviewed all the members of Razz, multiple times, by themselves and in groups.”
The film also includes recollections from journalists for Unicorn Times and the Washington Post, who covered the band in the 1970s.
Krulik and Taylor thanked “” filmmakers James June Schneider and Paul Bishow, who shared outtakes for the Razz project. “They were very generous with the material they gathered for that film.”
Why didn鈥檛 Razz become rock stars? “I think part of it鈥檚 luck, and part of it鈥檚 timing,” offered Taylor.
It wasn鈥檛 for lack of trying and dedication, said Krulik.
“They started in the early 70s 鈥� that鈥檚 almost a decade of effort and work, toward, 鈥� quote 鈥� ‘making it, in the music industry,'” said Krulik. “People run out of steam 鈥� that鈥檚 just a fact.”
Tickets are available for “Razz (The) Documentary,” directors鈥� cut, showing Saturday, April 29, at 5:30 p.m. Krulik, Taylor, and members of Razz will take part in a post-screening question-and-answer session.
