For nearly five decades, DEVO has been a band that defies easy categorization. From their signature red "energy dome" hats and industrial jumpsuits to their biting, satirical music videos and punk-inspired art rock, the Ohio-born group has been both celebrated and misunderstood. Now, a new Netflix documentary directed by Chris Smith offers a fresh look at DEVO’s legacy, inviting audiences to reconsider the band’s place in music history and the deeper meanings behind their eccentric image.
The documentary, simply titled DEVO, landed on Netflix on August 19, 2025, and quickly sparked conversation among longtime fans and newcomers alike. The film traces DEVO’s unlikely journey from the turbulent campus of Kent State University to the heights of MTV stardom, weaving together archival footage, interviews, and cameos from admirers like David Bowie, Iggy Pop, and Neil Young. But as co-founder Gerald Casale told the Associated Press, this is not a story of rock clichés: “We were trivialized and pigeonholed. This documentary allows us to talk about what we were thinking and what we are motivated by to create what we created.”
DEVO’s origins are inseparable from the tragedy that marked their early lives. Casale and Mark Mothersbaugh first met as students at Kent State, where they witnessed the 1970 National Guard shooting that killed four unarmed anti-war protesters. That moment, seared into their memories, forged an antiestablishment, anti-capitalist perspective that would shape the band’s worldview and artistic mission. As Casale recalls in the film, “We were seeing a world that was the antitheses of the idealized, promised future ginned up in the ’50s and ’60s. What we saw was regression.”
It was this sense of societal backsliding that inspired the band’s name and philosophy: de-evolution. DEVO’s music, visuals, and performances became a multimedia protest, blending the radical spirit of Dadaism and the pop sensibility of Andy Warhol with the gritty, industrial backdrop of Akron’s factories. Their stage costumes—gray overalls and clear plastic face masks—evoked the mechanized anonymity of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, transforming the band into living, breathing cogs in the machine.
DEVO burst onto the national scene in 1977 with a frenetic cover of the Rolling Stones’ “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction,” a performance that landed them a coveted spot on Saturday Night Live. Their debut album, Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!, produced by Brian Eno, followed in 1978, introducing the world to their unique blend of punk, new wave, and art rock. But it was 1980’s Freedom of Choice—and its breakout single “Whip It”—that cemented their place in pop culture.
Yet, as the Netflix documentary makes clear, DEVO’s image as quirky new wave oddballs masked a deeper, more subversive intent. The band’s videos were drenched in political commentary: the seemingly upbeat “Beautiful World” paired cheerful melodies with disturbing footage of police violence and the Ku Klux Klan, while “Freedom of Choice” warned against the perils of conformity. Even “Whip It,” often dismissed as a novelty hit, was rooted in literary and political satire. Inspired by Thomas Pynchon’s dense novel Gravity’s Rainbow, the song’s video lampooned President Ronald Reagan’s brand of macho conservatism, featuring surreal scenes of cowboys, beer, and gunplay.
“We had a meta-approach,” Casale explained to the Associated Press. “It was a multimedia, big idea approach. Music was an element, a layer, a dimension, but it was connected to this big worldview.” Despite their efforts, the band often felt that their message was lost amid the spectacle. “Nobody wanted to hear us talking about the duality of human nature and the dangers of groupthink and the atrophication of people being able to think logically and think critically,” Casale lamented. “It was like, ‘That’s a bummer. Just tell us about drugs and sex.’”
Mark Mothersbaugh and Gerald Casale, speaking on the Consequence Podcast Network, reflected on how their attempts to explain themselves over the years often fell on deaf ears. “We were always just moving forward,” Mothersbaugh said, while Casale added, “Rock ‘n’ roll has two or three very basic dumb ideas, and people default to that. They didn’t want to hear about de-evolution.”
Despite—or perhaps because of—their outsider status, DEVO’s influence has rippled through generations of musicians and artists. The band’s willingness to question authority, embrace satire, and challenge the conventions of rock made them, in Casale’s words, “true punk.” Their legacy can be seen in acts as varied as Rage Against the Machine, System of a Down, and even the pop provocations of M.I.A. at the Super Bowl. According to Casale, “We were true punk, meaning we questioned illegitimate authority and we stayed in our own lane and did our thing, remaining true to our vision. That’s punk.”
After DEVO’s heyday, the band members forged their own creative paths. Casale went on to direct music videos and commercials, while Mothersbaugh found success scoring films and television shows, including Pee-Wee’s Playhouse, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, Rugrats, and Hello Tomorrow! But the band never truly faded away. In fact, their audience has only grown more diverse. “We see a lot of people that look like us, with gray hair out there in the audience. But there’s also, there’s also a lot kids, which is kind of surprising to me, but I think it’s only because they have this thing in their hand that they sometimes use to their advantage,” Mothersbaugh observed, crediting smartphones and social media for helping younger fans discover their music without the filter of traditional media gatekeepers.
Now, in 2025, DEVO is preparing to hit the road once again. The Cosmic De-Evolution Tour, a co-headlining venture with fellow new wave icons The B-52’s, kicks off September 24 in Toronto and will wrap up November 2 in Houston. The tour promises to be both a celebration and a farewell, though in true DEVO fashion, the band jokes that it might last long enough to include stops on Mars. “We were always just moving forward,” Mothersbaugh quipped, hinting at the band’s refusal to be neatly packaged or easily explained.
As the Netflix documentary and upcoming tour reignite interest in DEVO’s work, the band’s message of questioning authority, resisting conformity, and embracing creative rebellion feels as urgent as ever. “I always tried to be optimistic that devolution was something that was going to be corrected and that our message would be not necessary at this point, but unfortunately it’s more real than ever,” Mothersbaugh told the Associated Press.
DEVO’s story, as told through Chris Smith’s documentary, is a reminder that sometimes the most vital voices are the ones that refuse to fit in—and that the power of art, noise, and theory can outlast even the most stubborn misunderstandings.
