Originally from Teaneck, New Jersey via Champaign-Urbana, Illinois, Rëzzin erupted onto the national music scene in either the late ‘60s or early ‘70s, with a bone-shattering heavy-rock stadium sound that blew minds, kicked ass, and took names. A lethal combination of brute British Steel and American townie pride, the band quickly toured the world behind such headliners as Head East, Motörhead, Nazareth, Foghat, Iron Maiden, Slade, Wolfsbane, Don Brewer Project, Jo Jo Gunne, C.C. and the Blues Hogs, and many others.
Rëzzin performances were masterful pieces of stagecraft, employing lavish costumes, marionette puppets, fireworks, go-go dancers dressed as joints, pagan rituals, and 30-foot-tall bongs that drifted smoke into the audience, often sending asthmatic fans to the hospital. Their blistering set at the 1974 Day On the Asphalt outdoor festival in Dayton, Ohio is still considered a classic by rock historians, as the force of Rëzzin’s power prompted headliners REO Speedwagon to set down their instruments and walk away. Legends like Alice Cooper, Golden Earring drummer Cesar Zuiderwijk, and James Gang keyboardist Phil Giallombardo have all cited Rëzzin as being possibly the only legitimate successor to the Throne of Rock.
But rock royalty was not to be their legacy, as internal and external forces pulled the band into a dark period. An ill-advised state fair gig in Iowa City ended in a parking lot scuffle with members of Christian band Stryper. (It was declared a draw by local police.) Substance abuse, sex addiction, and lack of any measurable success drove Rëzzin to disband several times. Despite blood transfusions, and a sketchy recording contract with Romanian label Muzici Enervant, Rëzzin quietly called it quits in either 1987 or 1989 (sloppy handwriting makes this unclear). A lawsuit over ownership of the phrase “If this van’s rockin’ don’t come knockin’” emptied what remained of the band’s coffers, after which longtime manager Harley Popperstein abruptly left for South America. At one point, all four original members embraced Satanism. A few attempted to raise vegetables.
Rëzzin resurfaced in the early ‘90s as the house band for acclaimed San Francisco satirical investigative magazine The Nose, and their electrifying performances quickly elevated the group into a cult favorite among a new generation of kids. Although more recent gigs have been less stadiums and more clubs, sailor bars, and stoner picnics, they still bring their arena-sized energy to every single show.
Critics have derided Rëzzin for its lack of originality and sloppy musicianship, and often dismissed them as a D-list rock act that copied the style of A-list groups, while clinging to the coattails of more established C-list bands. But their legacy speaks for itself. They’re still rocking, while those dweeby little critics are just sitting at home memorizing useless trivia, and surrounded by albums of music they couldn’t possibly play themselves.
