Royal Trux: the legendary band you've probably never heard of
meet the two chaos-driven visionaries who redefined indie rock and inspired a generation
You likely haven't heard of Royal Trux, but if you’ve listened to Blur, The White Stripes, MGMT, Sonic Youth, or The Kills you’re already well acquainted with their immense influence.
Royal Trux wasn't just a band. They were a middle finger to everything mainstream, a beautifully chaotic mess that was both inspiring and intriguing—and confusing and frustrating to many. Their music wasn't for everyone. In fact, it wasn't for most people. They made records that sounded like a blender choking on psych-rock, noise, blues, and opioids. It wasn't easy listening, but it was the real deal.
When I discovered Royal Trux at 13, I thought I'd found the blueprint for musical success. Neil Hagerty's twisted, trashy guitar playing and Jennifer Herrema's feral, anti-vocals lit my brain on fire. Their music was wild, unpolished, and unapologetically unconventional. Royal Trux not only influenced the development of my sound but also my attitude and overall psyche. Their stream-of-consciousness-sounding approach shaped my creative process, teaching me to embrace imperfection and let raw emotion lead. Listening tо Royal Trux taught me that being universally liked isn’t what an artist should strive for. Their indifference tо public approval only made them more powerful. Their music demonstrated the value оf taking a side rather than cowering іn the middle of the road. This lesson became one оf the most defining moments оf my growth as both a musician and a person.
The band was born in Washington, D.C., where Neil Hagerty and a teenage Jennifer Herrema met in the mid-1980s when Hagerty was playing in the noise-rock band Pussy Galore with Jon Spencer. I read somewhere that Herrema was instantly drawn to Hagerty after learning about a girl whose hair he set on fire. Seems like Herrema and I had a lot in common as teens...
When they united, their shared vision and chemistry conjured something entirely new. Royal Trux released their self-titled debut album in 1988 and, with it, immediately drew a line in the sand. The polarizing record established their lo-fi, off-kilter sound that was as challenging as it was mesmerizing. Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth cited the debut as a significant influence on his band's direction, calling it "the coolest record of that year."
Their personal lives were as chaotic as their music. Both Hagerty and Herrema struggled with heroin addiction (she was even one of the first "heroin-chic" Calvin Klein models). Their antics—both on and off the stage—became legendary. Stories of disastrous gigs, outrageous demands, and nail-biting unpredictability followed them wherever they went. But through it all, they created groundbreaking music.
In the early '90s, Royal Trux signed a three-album deal with Virgin Records worth nearly a million dollars while keeping full creative control. In today's streaming-driven world, this kind of deal feels like something of ancient folklore (see my essay about Spotify). Their time on a major label was as tumultuous as you'd expect. While Virgin hoped they'd be the next big alternative act, Royal Trux delivered outlandish, obtuse albums, refusing to pander to commercial expectations. They spent their advance money freely—buying a rural farmhouse in Virginia and building a home recording studio. Unsurprisingly, their relationship with the label ended in spectacular fashion. Their release, Thank You, was a commercial failure, and their second album's cover art featured a toilet bowl filled with vomit. Thus, also not a success. Yet, somehow, the band manipulated Virgin to pay them $300,000 to terminate the contract before a third album could be released. Herrema told Pitchfork in 2012:
We requested to be let out of the contract after Sweet Sixteen. We knew that [Virgin] couldn't get their head around what we were doing. But having signed the contract for three records, they were going to have to pay us for a third record no matter what. And in the contract, we were given total artistic free reign-- we'd administer our own budgets and we didn't have to have them sign off on anything.
So after Sweet Sixteen came out, we basically freaked the fuck out of [Virgin]. We told them that we were going to make this other record right now, and that we were going to do it on eight tracks with no producer. Then we'd have the lawyer convince them that it would be easier for them to give us all the money for that record and not have to spend anything to promote it. That was our game. So we got exactly what we wanted, because the record was paid for by Virgin, even though it wasn't even started when we got the money.
And with that stack of cash the band went on to record their next record, Accelerator, releasing it on Drag City in 1998. It received rave reviews from NME, Mojo, and Pitchfork and even received a 5/5 from The Guardian. MGMT later credited the record for inspiring their creative risk-taking and production choices.
As a kid, I didn't understand how miraculous it was that a band like Royal Trux even got a major record deal. I assumed they were rolling in cash, living the rockstar life. I had no concept of the financial desperation or harsh realities of being an underground musician. I saw them as proof that you could play noisy, experimental music and still "make it" (yes, I was completely delusional). Point being, listening to bands like Royal Trux during my formative years is probably why I never learned to write a proper pop song or develop any interest in being a mainstream artist. Sigh.
Hagerty and Herrema made music оn their own terms. They turned іn albums that baffled their label and alienated most listeners. They took the money, made the art they wanted, and then essentially burned the bridge before even getting tо the other side. While they never became a household name, Royal Trux’s impact іs undeniable. They were the biggest band that never got big. Their boundary-pushing sound, image, and attitude inspired a wave оf musicians who went оn tо achieve the fame and financial success that eluded Royal Trux. And maybe that's part оf their charm. They didn't strive tо be palatable. They didn't write catchy songs оr cater tо what the masses wanted. They made music for themselves, and іf you liked it, great. If not, they didn't care. That's a level оf artistic integrity that's both admirable and, let's be honest, usually fatal. Staying true tо yourself as an artist and career self-sabotage often gо hand-in-hand.
In 2019, the band officially called іt quits. Herrema now resides іn California, where she leads her band, Black Bananas (formerly known as RTX). Hagerty, based іn Denver, has released several solo records over the years, both under his own name and through his side project, The Howling Hex. In 2023, he was arrested following an altercation with three police officers, though the charges were ultimately dropped іn 2024.
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c u next tuesday.
XX CARRÉ
YEEEEESSSSSSSSS.
JUNKIE NURSE!