2/7- The Locust and Erase Errata @ The Troubador $10 2/8- Jonathan Richman @ Que Sera (I know he's playing in LA too but this place is so much more intimate!) 1923 7th St. (562) 599-6170, $10 2/9- THE MYSTERY GIRLS, THE ROLLING BLACKOUTS and THE CHEAP LAYS @  Alex's Bar 2913 E. Anaheim Blvd. in the LBC only $5! Go tell Nam she sucks again 2/14- X and The Lords of Altamont @ The Knitting Factory 2/15- Supergrass (!!) @ Spaceland- shaggy sideburns extra 2/18 and 19- Interpol @ The Henry Fonda Theatre- $17. Heed the new brood chic. Joy Division lives! 2/27- The Blood Brothers@ The Smell $7 2/28- The Dirtbombs and The Von Bondies @ The Troubador 2/28- The Whip (ex-Karp) @ The Smell 3/1- Dead Moon and The Pattern @ Spaceland 3/21- The Fuse!, The Orphans, The Fleshies @ The Smell

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Hey ho, let's go: Struts Magazine Home! All Da Other Shit

The Struts Staff is Listening To: Cherry Valence "Riffin' " Lots of old Spacemen 3- just because Wire- first two albums R. Kelly "Bump'n'Grind" because it has the line,          "Flex, time to have sex" The Orphans single on Malo Records. OK, it's like totally out (like Jackson) get it by dropping an email to : LA MIKE. The Hookers new single!!!!!!!!! Yay!!!!!!

STRUTS MAGAZINE MUSIC NEWS: Run don't walk to see Interpol...

Don't miss this one jackass: Strut these shows

Blowfly @ World on Wheels July 23, 2001 How could the Struts Sluts say no to this? Rollerskating hotties circling the rink like a lazy Susan of macking, the insatiable music of the only porno-funk-rap star, Blowfly himself, live in the flesh and a 12 pack of Budweiser snuck into the joint by our resident genius Mr. Choountypants and his sidekick, Coffeeroast Boy! We've never seen Blowfly before so we were doubly psyched about this. We all grew up listening to his XXX classics like Suck It, Porno Freak, ABCD, and the classic fucked up version of the Sesame Street Theme Song, enjoying these and many other hits time and time again- only this time, we were there in the flesh! He had a pick up band playing behind him- a bunch of young folks from Hipsterville LA, one clown just stood behind the mic the whole time like he was Jerome to Blowfly's Morris Day and repeated what Blowfly sang in that deep, sexy Barry White-ish voice like, "Oooohhh yeeeeaaahhhhhh" After each song he would reintroduce the audience toBlowfly by saying, "Ladies and genetlmen- The Fab-ulous Blowflyyyyy." The ladies' panties were getting juicy wet by now. The music appeared to take the back seat because this event was unfortunately more tailored towards rollerskating, which is okay but a fine showman like Blowfly should not be upstaged by Hoochies on Wheels. We all know the rule: rock first, pussy later. The Struts Sluts finally donned some skates after the show and came to a very sad realization that skating was not their forte, but drinking was so off they went into the night, like a couple of screaming banshees, carting their beer off leaving poor Mr. Choountypants and Cofferoast Boy dry as a Saharan well. Girls are cruel.

The Dirtbombs with The Flash Express @ Spaceland; August 21, 2001 So, you wanna know what it's like to be a rock and roll star well...if your name happens to be Mick Collins, everyone loves the shit out of you, including the elusive Lux and Ivy of The Cramps who made the scene to everyone's chagrin. The reserved, gallant comic book connoisseur/ trash hound/ front man led his troops to battle the usually austere Spaceland crowd and had winning results. The place was houserockin' like a corrugated shed in the outskirts of town by the train tracks. Boys and girls were just shakin' their booties to the good rock supplied by the all star Dirtbombs band featuring Jim Diamond, Pat Pantalano and Ben (Jack White's cousin/ White Stripes Fan Club President). No, "I'm Through With White Girls" was not a song written about a certain slut who shall remain nameless.  Although a certain slut was definitely getting her drink on that night prompting her to finally set a life goal of playing bass for The Cramps. The Flash Express played their usually great set of garage punkified, soulful, rhythmic, blues rock. Their set list changed with a noted omission of the "Honey" cover by Moby. We were very upset to learn that we arrived too late and completely missed openers, Lost Sounds who came "all the way from Memphis" (hey, couldn't resist that Hoople reference). Lost Sounds piqued our curiousity from day one since it features the handy work of Jay Reatard formerly of The Reatards fame (a VERY overloooked band) and we were damned psyched to see them play but alas, our resident nameless slut took too long to perfect her Madonna (Who's That Girl era) outfit. Argh! If this is what the last guy had to put up with, I'm not diggin' this at all.

Death in Downtown Al's Bar Closes It's Doors Saturday night, August 11, 2001 marked the end of a punk rock institution in Los Angeles. Al's Bar, our beloved hole-in-the-wall of a nightclub was sold to a yuppie real estate developer. Al's Bar has been an integral part of the underground music scene in Los Angeles since 1979. Some of the greatest/sickest/assinine/destructive bands performed onstage while graffiti, bodily fluids, and beer embellished the walls. L.A. will never be the same place again. The last night of Al's was flanked by mourners who were there to pay their last respects by pounding as many beers as possible.  The stenciled Al's logos on the fur patched walls were quickly nabbed by some enterprising Charlatans. We all clung onto each other as we realized the wreckage was suddenly all within us. The Fuse, The Sights, The Witches and The Warlocks sent Al's bar off in style- especially The Fuse and their buttshakin', nihilist power garage punk. We asked Cliff, our favorite doorman, what he was getting up to now that Al's was closed. He simply said, "I got a lot more things goin' on that this, honey." He's so pimpslosive!

I Have Bubblegum All Over My Face; The Bubblegum Music Is The Naked Truth Release Party If you open the gates of hell, I'm sure you would probably hear a couple of unbearable tunes by the Ohio Express or The 1910 Fruit Gum Co. mixed in there with Genesis and Yes. Every fucking genre of music has a character study; even a vile, session heavy mishap like bubblegum music has a book devoted to it and all of its hideousness. It's all so nicey-nice and cutesy-cute I'm gonna barf pixie sticks, cotton candy and orange soda all day. The only reason why I went to this shindig was to see Nikki and The Pink Corvettes. Yes, that's right friends. It was the infamous Nikki Corvette (of the 80's "Baby You're Just What I Need" and "Backseat Love", former paramour of G.G. Allin fame) backed by everyone's favorite Highland Park "little darlings"-The Pinks. They only got to do 4 songs ("Young and Crazy"- yes!) but they totally rocked the rink. They had to rush off to make room for The Shakes who only got to do 2 songs. Nikki still has it, even if she did gain a lot of weight. Then the behemoth monster of gimmick schlock; the matching pink garbed, all Sweet cover band, Teacher's Pet made their rounds. I had to get the hell outta there. I mean it sounds like a good idea but sometimes ideas are better left abstract- the material formation was such a disappointment. It was like seeing a bunch of Danny Dollrods and idiot cheerleader chicks shaking their stupid pink pom poms all over everyone's face.  To make matters worse, the bar was closed. Gasp! Horror! The four beers and shot of Maker's Mark was beginning to wear off. Perhaps I am being too harsh on Teacher's Pet. Nah... Meanwhile, Falling James was getting his mack on with Nikki. We stood there so proudly, encouraging him. Bob kicked my ass in ski ball, and it was his first time playing! I suck. Fred summed it all up when he kept saying on the van ride back, "I have bubblegum all over my face." Yeah, it's like the opposite effect of getting the creme pie in the face. In case you're still curious, the book is called "Bubblegum Music Is the Naked Truth" it's available on Feral House Books (yes, the very same people that brought you "Lords of Chaos").

The FUSE! will reign L.A.

It's Re-Animation Time for The Cramps Sources close to the SS told us that Lux and Ivy are starting their very own label to be distributed exclusively by Mordam. Their first foray into the record business will comprise of the re-release of the classic first four Cramps albums! Hopefully they'll start signing some cool new bands too. Perhaps they should read up on our little site in search of tomorrows superstars today... Ahem! The Struts Sluts and Studs may not know much in this world but they sure do know a lot of a couple of important things in life like: beer, sex, wrestling, the cult of bad and punk rock'n'roll. Hey we've got some free advice for them too: don't release all four albums at once, do release it over a course of one year so shelf life would be longer and they wouldn't compete with each other. Also, add a few bonus tracks so people will be apt to purchase the re-release even though they have the O.G. copy. Hey, people are always suckers for colored vinyl and booklets detailing obscure and redundant tidbits about the band and/or recording. Perhaps working in the nefarious record business this long has corrupted our minds- or maybe we're the next Ahmet Ertgun or Clive Davis. Ewwwwww.

The Manifolds @ Koo's Cafe 9/9/01 Power. The ability to move a room full of punk rock burn outs on a Sunday night IS power. The Manifolds did just that at this sleepy little all ages venue. The minute they got on the mic, the room shook with the chaotic symphony of Julian's raucous guitar rakings and a tight rhthym section flanked by a busty and talented young bass starlet, the drums rapid fired in a sucession of snare buckshots as it melded synchronously with the slinky bass grooves. The Manifolds harken back to a time in one's life when rock was new, enticing and above all dangerous. They're experimental without being pretenious. The pure hollared threats in the vocals is teenage angst personaified- that is if your teenage angst consists of drinking in the park and passing out alone on a bench instead of moping about not getting the Porsche Boxster for your 16th birthday. This is working class art. This is the blood, sweat and piss of a band whose harsh reality forces them to get onstage and attempt to relate on some feral animal base level with a crowd of hostile strangers. They don't make a big dramatic presentation out of it either. They just want to get up there and do it regardless of what you say or think.  The world is filled with spoonfed mama's boys with rock star aspirations. They graduate into midlevel bands, eat caviar on blinis for the first time and fuck strippers. They eat, sleep and fart prefabricated rock'n'roll glamour. Hollywood is a cesspool of populated minds and toxic bodies. I am so tired and so disgusted. I hope The Manifolds make great changes in this region. The future is now and the time has come for a change.  I sincerely hope The Manifolds will answer the call, and this time we won't call collect.

The Woggles, Lords of Altamont, DC Special @ 2nd Ave. Alehouse June 16, 2001 Yeah, yeah we know. We ALWAYS go to The Garage, but that's where all the good shows are, but I have to come clean- we're pretty burnt out there too so this weekend, we packed our little femme arsenal (evening bag stuffed with cigarettes, ID, charge card, cash, compact, hot pink lipstick, condoms, rat poison, new Hello Kitty model Polaroid iZone camera) and headed for the lovely environs of Upland via Pomona. We arrived at the legendary Tim from Pomona's house where we were shocked to find his room mate, Mr. Keith Invisible sporting a dyed black hair growth (we refuse to acknowledge it as facial hair.) Eee-yuck. He further grossed us out by donning some tired mirrored aviators and calling himself, "Tito Incognito." A crime against fashion is a crime against humanity. We managed to fiddle around with Keith's guitars and one of our Struts Sluts played "Turkey in the Straw" and even helped Keith figure out how to play "Bingo". He suggested we start a band. Can you imagine? The Struts Sluts Band?! Outta sight! OK a tall boy later, we made it to Upland. We think the Excessories played but we missed them. 2nd Ave. Alehouse is located in an area that reminds me of that trendy part of Whittier or Pasadena, very "town-ish", very "nice" people. We got there just in time for the bastard sons of true rock'n'roll, The DC Special. You may recall them as the Top Heavy Whores from a year back but now they've changed their name to something you can actually fit on a marquee. Their singer, Tom, is a performing maniacal genius. He takes his cues from the old masters like Iggy, Stiv, and Jerry Lee and is the only punk rocker we know that can really sing- like really hit those notes. Oh that power, that drive in his voice compelling feelings of frustration, of rebelling against the strife and mediocrity that makes life utter, total shit. Tim actually got on the mic during one of their numbers and sang "Cool Jerk" on key and in tempo with their tune- we nearly lost it with beer coming out of our noses. Guitarist "Big Sexy" Joe is not afraid to wail and that's a good thing these days (hey, what's up with the guitar change-fucking rock star.) Hee hee, someone in the band was wearing a Krokus shirt, was it Ratshit? They've got a CD out now and it's the best thing you can get for yourself right this second so you can stop complaining about how everything sucks. Go to www.thedcspecial.com. We're tellin' ya now, because we like to say we told you so later, "FF&S" is one of the best songs we've heard in a long time. We hope these boys will stick around for the long haul. Up next was the Lords of Altamont featuring former members of The Bomboras and Fuzztones playing organ drenched, 60's biker rock with fog machines and lights. "Born to Be Wa-ai-ai-ild!" We were tired from rocking so hard with DC Special that we had to sit a spell. Oy, we're getting old, besides we were drinking directly from the pitcher at this point. The Woggles took the stage and we were in for a treat. We saw the Woggles last time when they played- oh nevermind- they used to have a fat dude in the band but he's gone now. The Woggles were a three piece tonight but they rocked hard as ever. It's a little 60's but we were drunk as heck and kissing The Professor the whole time. At one point, one of the Struts Sluts flashed the guitar player and he looked like he couldn't believe what he saw. You can tell he was struggling with his guitar playing. The sadistic little slut burst into laughter and started pointing at the poor guitarist man. The show was over and the sluts went flying into the night like a couple of witches kissing every dork in sight. Man, I'm sick and tired of hanging out with these stupid,crazy chicks. I quit.

Red Planet @ The Garage I Can't Remember When Metal is back whether you like it or not. The music genre that keeps the hair styling products business afloat is in the midst of a swelling resurgence here in lovely LA. The "in joke" started out slow but rapidly developed into a steady stream of metal love all over the world: The Hookers, The Hellacopters, let's see, every other band on Man's Ruin, Nashville Pussy (don't kid yourself, they ARE metal personified), Motochrist and Nebula are some bands that proudly wave the metal flag high over the seas of lo-fi slop garage rock. What sets the metal moderne apart from the Hair Farm (H.F.), 80's metal is probably the humor quotient in the music itself. What you are hearing is amplified irony and in some extreme cases they are dressing the part too, all in good fun though. The metal modern has no respect whatsoever for the music of the H.F. era. Instead they opt to dilute the potent stench of H.F. by liberally dousing with garage punk, power pop or country leanings. The metal moderne is one who is in touch with a good music sense but plays the metal moderne music as a form of rejection to the norms of garage rock as we know it today. They know it's gay, but sometimes gay doesn't suck if it offends people in the worst way possible. I would much rather sit through a metal moderne set than a bad slop rock band now. So here we are catching Red Planet tear shit up. San Francisco's Red Planet had us rocking so hard we felt neck cramps the next day. Just think of strong power-pop mixed with metal acoutrements and there you have your party band of the year. Who would have ever conceieved the idea that power pop would mate so well with the plain awfulness of "Halen-eque" guitar yankage? Who in their wrong mind would think of such a dastardly thing? Well, I'd say one of the most brilliant, gutsy, comic, genius bands of all time. The Strutters stuck around until the wee-hours getting tossed like chopped salads. The Tigermask Boys were in full jabroni effect, as the doors closed and the after hours frivolity ensued. Frank- The Shockmaster of Love- got his groove on with the lovely Mexican, not white, ladies of the night by going crazy like that spazzmodic black clown in the "Love That Chicken From Popeye's" commercial complete with a pants boggling attempt at doing the splits like James Brown. Oh Frank, I fiend for a Frank-Cam to install on you so we can be there, every step of the way.

Above: The wannabe that got to be, Eddie Van Satriani Vai Malmsteen of Red Planet

Tight Bros. From Way Back When @ Al's Bar 7/7/01 First of all, I was NOT drunk. As a matter of fact, I did not drink at all that night, but somehow everything was still a blur. The show was THAT rockin'. In case you have never seen The Tight Bros. From Way Back When, please do so at once. You owe it to your pathetic existence to find what little joy life has to offer in the form of punk rock audio salvation- well, it doesn't get any more fuckin'/rockin' and soul savin' than this shit. Which reminds me, being a Struts Slut means you have to weather the foils of ragin' rock while attired in our favoured new wave slut ensemble, including what deluge of beer might come flying our way...aaaahhhhrefreshing beer baptism. Our little Struts Slut was covered from tousled, perfectly layered hair all the way down to her chain link fence pantyhose. The slut ingenuity came through for her as she proceeded to take her shirt completely off to wring out the precious beer from her outfit (just another excuse to unclothe herself in front of the band-sic). I was going apeshit at this point because (a) not only was I banned from drinking beer, I had to watch the pathetic sluts get showered with it like a gay-ass Warrant video, (b) Al's Bar was so fuckin' hot, (c) I'm still stuck hanging out with the drunk sluts of Struts- proof that I have no life and I am such a Sacher- Masoch loser (and not to mention, I had to drive them around all fucking night- Christ!). Tight Bros. From Way Back When- a friend of mine made me listen to their album a couple of years ago. I decided it was too "funny" for my taste- back then my humor quotient was pretty low due to my serious problems with the old ex-battle axe. Just close your eyes and try to see the MC5 doing  Ramblin' Rose for an hour but with the intensity of Slade, James Brown, any KBD band, Accept, Killer Pussy, early Echo and The Bunnymen, as well as a healthy dose of AC/DC thrown in for fuck's sake. I'm flashing back to the time I ran into King Buzz of The Melvins at the Martini Lounge- I think it was at a Melt Banana show- I ran right up to him and asked him, "Do you have a big comb for your aphro? Do you think conditioner is evil? Are black people jealous of your hair do?" OK, just get drunk and go see the TBFWBW. Tell them Sleater-Kinney and Team Dresch sent you. I swear this is the last time- I quit god damn it! I QUIT! Those retarded bitches are getting on my last, twitching nerve ending. You know what? They don't even read their own web site because they CAN'T- that's right shithead girls- you're a bunch of illiterate, 9th grade drop outs- the only thing you're good for is fucking and I heard even some of you can't even get that right ("Hey,watch the fuckin' teeth"). See, I can do this because they never read the site, but now everyone else knows how dumb and stupid they are. Ha ha ha ha haAll they do is sleep with stupid touring garage rock guys while they continually pass up on a perfectly nice guy like myself. This sucks. I hate them so much. Bite me, bitches-HARD. I'm not designated bitch driving you to the Garage or the Glendale Galleria or the Korean lunch box place. I think Mr. Choounty Pants agrees. We're gonna defect to Blank Generation because you cunts blow.

Above: The Mighty Vocal Stylings of Jared Tight

The Struts Staff is Listening To: Cherry Valence "Riffin' " Lots of old Spacemen 3- just because Wire- first two albums R. Kelly "Bump'n'Grind" because it has the line,          "Flex, time to have sex" The Orphans single on Malo Records. OK, it's like totally out (like Jackson) get it by dropping an email to : LA MIKE. The Hookers new single!!!!!!!!! Yay!!!!!!

Gasoline, The Immortal Lee County Killers and Bob Log III @ The Garage June 2, 2001 "Hay-row Hah-ree-rood! I don't speak too good Engrish but I know see-ix row-rds; yes, no, maybe, Hah-ree-rooood, rock'n'rorr!!!!" With that battle cry the crowd united, jumping up and screaming along with Gasoline from Japan. They kicked off a stellar show that Saturday night with a non-stop onslaught of a rock'n'roll party done right. The Japanese bands that play here in Los Angeles are few and far between, but once they have blown through town, they teach the jaded garage rockers a thing or two about having fun. They definitely leave an imprint in the minds and souls of those who were there to witness the rock. Guitar Wolf, Teengenerate, Accel 4, Mad 3, The 5,6,7,8's, Jackie and The Cedrics and countless many more have trudged their merry way down to Los Angeles and graced us all with a melange of great rocking and dare I say, drunk-silly good times. Gasoline continues that time honored tradition. Their right-on sound comprises of technically proficient garage rock and outstanding stagemanship (Gan stands on his guitar amp and does the obligatory "rock leap", then at a later point jumps off stage and into the crowd, urging them to sit down as the music ebbs then conducts them into jumping up as the music climaxes back to full force while donning a metallic embroidered, fur-lined, pimped out purple James Brown robe during the finale; their cover of "Shout" by The Isley Brothers.) Need I say more? Ok, they also do an excellent straight-forward cover of German punk legend's Pack "Nobody Can Tell Us", which, if you ask The Daylight Lovers and The Stuporstars is punk rock at it's anthemic best. OK, Struts Slut Annie was in total effect as she disappeared with Hiroshi, the bass player from Gasoline. Now, I must quote the great Joey Lawerence, "Woah!" Next up the two man sexy blues punk saunter of Boss and Cheetah, The Immortal Lee County Killers. These ex-Quadrajets, gave the crowd their just desserts with a big, fat, honking, flaming cherry on top. Their smooth combination of blues, rock, boogie, punk and attitude had more than enough substance to fill the empty minds of club goers with dirty thoughts of incest, porch-monkey fucking, whiskey, chewin' tobacco and brass knuckles. The brand new evil plays Delta punk, wears a flannel, a John Deer cap and drinks Old Grandad. Where the heck was Strutter Annie? Oh well, I pushed my way up to see Bob Log III. I've seen Bob Log twice already and he hasn't changed much. He's still the big, sexy, crazy guy that sits in the middle of the stage with his one-man band contraptions all over, proudly flailing away at all his instruments while growling into a feedback laden microphone. Bob was wearing his usual crash helmet, Darth Vader sunglasses and black Lycra jumpsuit with sparkly things glued on them. This outfit had "Stankonia" written all over it, if you whiff my drift. At some point of the night our Strut Sluts were pushed up onstage to go-go dance along; we're talking about some hot 3 way action with 2 chords and one hot-ass man. Bob is also playing at the next Las Vegas Shakedown with ILCK, do check them out. Gasoline meanwhile, is supporting their latest effort on Estrus Records, "Fake to Fame". I can't freakin' wait for The King Bros.

. The Invisible (?) Men, The Hatebombs, The Loons and The Bolides @ The Garage Cinco de Mayo, 2001 This show was suppose to feature the much hyped debut of Detroit's The Come-On's but they chose not to "come-out" to play that night, leaving a few people wondering...why? I had a guy turn away from the door when I broke the news to him. Still, the Carrera Brother's Tigermask night at the Garage raged like a rabid woodland creature in heat during this Fifth of May celebration. The Bolides started things off right with a blend of straight garage rock tweaked with some great fucked up feedback via the seventies Realistic amp head straight from the garage sale earlier that day. They were wearing surgeon outfits with the little vagina lights on the side of their heads which made me think, "Hey, didn't Prince play the Palladium last night? I wonder if his keyboard-playing, surgeon guy knows someone nabbed his get-up?" Solid. A few beers later The Loons took the stage and delivered their usual fare of the hippy shake, get-up, Pebbles type, 60's psych trash rock. Mr. and Mrs. Stax brought a few San Diegans over from their homeland to make The Garage feel more like The Casbah. Dig the tight pants on Mrs. Stax, crotch cleavage rocks. There's a lot of positive energy flowing through the crowd whenever The Loons play and everyone seemed to be having fun. Ole! A couple of beers later, Florida's favorite bastard sons of punk frat rock, The Hatebombs tooks the stage to the delight of their eager fans. The Hatebombs haven't played in LA for years and their fans greeted them like the homecoming queens that they were that night. The Hatebombs have two LP's out on Dionysus and the defunct 360 Twist. I overheard one of them pimping the Dionysus release, Hunt You Down, to a new fan. (Despues mucho mas cervezas!) Speaking of some homecoming queens, The Invisible Men have unmasked themselves and recorded a blistering new album called "Come Get Some"on...guess who- Dionysus Records! You still get the dancing girls, record nerd guys in the front row and all the rock you can digest minus the smelly bandages and smoking jackets. There's an old saying that wearing bandages for a long time makes one all hairy. Well, when the Invisible Men crawled out of their bandages they shamelessly displayed their hideous hair farms, tossing their filthy Vince Spiccoli heads all about. They urged the crowd to make the "green connection", by the smell of the air that night, I can tell some people took that advice, proudly, to heart. I love Los Angeles. LA's music scene is not dead. On the contrary it's quite alive and burgeoning with the distinctive sounds of a ferocious new breed of garage punk askew with a variety of tongue in cheek influences, some too grotoesque to mention here. We're doing it our way- with no shame or pity! We're sick and tired of hearing from pompous people from other parts of the world that have a "hip" music scene- all they ever do when they come out to LA is bash the shit out of our music scene. Listen Buster and Bustette, I don't give a leaping fuck what your town is all about- I live in city of LA and I'm grateful that we have decent shows from time to time. We're not some spoon-fed, massaged, Kobe herds of cuffed jeans wearing, thick rimmed glasses sportin', stud belt having, rare records hording, feathered or bowl haired or pompadored and ducktailed scum bags laying in the pasture of the spoils of daily doses of good punk rock. Look, we're LA- we know we're not the Motor City or even Gotham. Nobody brags about being an intellectual here (unless you're a real fucking jerk)- just support the scene so it gets better for all of us, OK? I mean, gees, how many times are you gonna watch Atomic Punks play with Wild Child and Sticky Fingers, or Cubensis? The Fab Four??? Must I go on??? The Funky Hippeez?

One Man Show Live and The Hatchbacks @ Al's Bar May 18, 2001 In all my years of fabulousness, I have never thought things would get so pathetic as it has been here in LA. The scene is like a dried up well these days. I haven't seen a decent band in I don't recall how long!!! Perhaps it's just me getting old, but everything IS starting to suck. No decent bands ever come out to LA anymore. What happened to the days when you could run amok with Guitar Wolf one night and then drink yourself silly at The Oblivians show, yelling at the top of your lungs to Eric Oblivian, "I am not a trashy whore!!!" while throwing up into plastic cups as Johnny Legend tries to school you on some so-obscure-it's-cool movie festivals and Javier Escovedo starts giving you the eye but you stagger to the toilet and take the biggest shit of your life and stink up the entire club, blah blah blah. Dude, reminescing sucks. There's a handful of ass whoopin' bands in LA currently like The Pinkz, The Stuporstars, and Flash Express and they always keep the party goin' but where are we headed? What lies ahead for the LA music scene? It's is waaay postmortem for the Silverlake scene (thank freakin' Christ) what lies beyond the bleak horizon for rock'n'roll? Will the ice thaw and melt out all the heavy metal wooly mammoths hence, introducing the new Heshian Age? As Handsome Dick says, "Who will save rock'n'roll?" How about One Man Show Live? The Struts Sluts made a beeline for Al's Bar where we caught the last two songs of this promising new project featuring the Filipino Heat himself, Lowell A. on bass guitar and party animal Joe on vocals. Their drummer sports the mandatory Angela Davis/MC5-fro, which we at Struts find very sexy. Make it a point to check these ne'erdowells out. They've got the no-abandon-take-no-prisoners-we-don't-give-a-fuck nihilist sound DOWN! If that ain't rock'n'roll then you're probably still waiting for The Beatles reunion. We were also pleasantly surprised to find the ex-members of The Motards entering the creaky doors of Al's when we arrived. They've got a new band called The Hatchbacks and they blew the doors off the place, raised the roof and a whole new barn to go with it too. They had this chick drummer and she was my new hero by the night was through. I turned to one of my handsome male companions and muttered, "Hey this reminds me of The Dirtys." Aaaahhh, the good old days.

Hey ho, let's go: Struts Magazine Home! All Da Other Shit

Midget Handjob, Crack, The Mormons @ Mr. T's Bowl 5/26/2001 I wanted to see The Mormons because I heard they really do have the Mormon look down pat. I really didn't care what they sounded like because I just wanted to see if they would take their schtick as far as inhumanly possible, ya know with the white shirt, ties, bibles, bicycles and helmets. As usual, my lame ass missed the show because I was too busy putting my make-up on and chatting to boys on the phone. I totally missed the freakin' Mormons. I'm sooo pissed as I write this. They will be playing a skate park fundraiser party soon in El Sereno. I'm still waiting to see if The Scientology Experiment, The Jainism 5, The Zorastarian Upheaval, and Kabbalah-The Musical will be putting on that Monsters of Religion show they've been threatening us with. We stuck around the lovely environs of Mr. T's Bowl and drank ourselves silly. People kept on staring at The Struts Sluts and Stud, mainly because one Strut Slut was sporting a bikini top, a la Ruyter of Nashville Pussy, while the other was wearing a bootleg skirt with The Rock's logo emblazoned proudly on it. Midget Handjob features Keith Morris formerly of The Circle Jerks. It's basically spoken word with improvisation type music in the background (kinda like Sacchine Trust but not as rockin' or angry) and the spectators were laying on the floor (!). Our Strut Stud said, "If there's more than one person sittin' on a stool onstage, it's a pretty bad sign..." What do you know, there IS more than one dude pretty much sitting on a stool on stage. Poetry is pretty gay anyway. Damn that Ezra Pound. Then we spotted some guy with half of the side of his head shaved off. He stood still most of the night and gave off the impression that he could be a serial killer of some sort... Manning the door was a dude who DJ's at our favorite club, the Garage, I forgot his name already but I think he likes Negative Approach. Arlo the sound guy was doing a great job as usual, be sure to yell really loud to him, "Arlo, it sounds great!!!!" by now my head was still pounding from the night before, too bad the next band was Crack. Crack seems to have a cult following. I just can't figure out why. They sound like a generic '80s era punk band with a big, fat guy yelling to accent important words and phrases in their songs, kinda like The Beastie Boys but not as cute or clever. "I'll stir-fry you in my WOK!!!" Our Struts Stud was eager to learn that they perform a song called, "Fat Boy Aerobics" where the fat guys supposedly gets all nuts. I was not going to be impressed by any stunt at this point- and I'm usually the gullible freak who buys into schticks. Regardless, we were very disppointed to see that Crack did not deliver "Fat Boy Aerobics" with the fat guy going off. They did manage to sneak in a few riffs of The Sugarcubes "Birthday"- that was their musical highlight. The Struts Sluts yelled for "Fat Boy Aerobics" during their entire set but to no avail. If that was a rumor started in the men's room- I'm very impressed. Ha ha ha motherfuckin' ha ha ha. The Russian bitch overcharged my friend at the bar. She needs to get some act right juice.

The King Bros., Lords of Altamont, and Demons @ Spaceland 9/27/01 Hey, Demons were actually pretty good yet predictably the L.A. garage rock "scene" was nowhere to be SEEN- HA, sorry ass losers! SO, their bass player had this strange way of playing without spreading his legs, kinda like when Robert Palmer sings without ever moving his upper arms (see for yourself, Simply Irresistible, we think not). Words of wisdom for Demon bassist- spread 'em like a porno starlet, but think tough like Dee Dee. Great, now we're choreographing stage presence. We have some nerve! But seriously folks, Demons were right on target with their no frill garage punk. They were fast, catchy as claps, and best of all LOUD- just like a good garage punk band should be! They also had the fine aesthetics to cover a Pagans song. We asked ,"Which one?" and the singer dude smiled and said, 'You'll see" It was "What's This Shit Called Love?" which rocked the 5 people who were there to witness it (sic). Look for Demons albums at stores near you. Hey, do you smell fog machines, lights, and fire? No, we're not talking about no jive ass turkey RATT tribute show- we're talkin' about the rock'n'go-go biker stomp of The Lords of Altamont. We are not going to wax philosophic about how great they are because there would be a conflict of interest to consider and we don't want to mislead our fine readership. None the less, I'm happy to report that they, dare I say, ROCK. No go go dancers, no glow in the dark body paint, no dumb tikis onstage, no Rudi god-damned Protrudi- just a mean snarlin', teeth clenched tight, chains whippin' through the air, iron crosses everywhere, The Wild One meets those Biker Acid movies kinda sound. Ya get it? Dig the Chambers Brothers cover but where's the stinkin' cowbells??? That's a song like "Don't Fear The Reaper", that NEEDS a cowbell (God I loved that Chris Walken skit on SNL!) Finally, the event Southern California has been waiting for. There's been talk of them all over town for so long and now the moment of truth arrives, The King Brothers take the stage and the crowd goes absolutely nuts from the get go. Japan's King Brothers have a much welcomed, original sound in these times of cookie cutter formula bands. It's the pure sound of disarray and chaos, raw and rough hewn, ready for battle with the LA scene. (God we love it when they hate the audience!) So it's not your average 145 garage combo, so what? It's a more sophisticated punk sound that makes one wonder- do they know how to play? Who fuckin' cares? They play those instruments pretty damn hard, like with little Oriental bodies sweatin', fingers bleedin', string pullin', and givin' it all they got. Lance from the Flash Express was quoted on the In The Red website, "That chink broke my cymbals!" That's pretty damned hard ass- by the way CHINK POWER all the way!Shit, the Japanese always do things wholeheartedly- there's no meaning of half ass for them. Let's just say they were unstoppable that night.

Immortal Lee County Killers: Hillbillys Still Rule

"Hey, hey, we're The Hatchbacks!"

Toys for Tots Benefit @ The Garage 12/15/01 Oh my god, it's already December. The malls are flooded with assholes acting more asshole-like during this season of gifting, regifting and grifting. Amongst the doom and gloom of mall treachery, I found a welcome break at The Garage (so good to be home). Ralph, Rudy, Lalo, and of course- Mr. Frankie Cakes made this show a special "bring an unwrapped gift, get your ass in for free" show. So, I got dressed up, made-up, smellin' all fresh, with a Hoochie Barbie in hand and headed in the trenches for rock'n'roll good tymes. A drink in my hand, a cigarette in the other, a tight vinyl red dress- now that's more like it. The Rippers started off the night with some garage rocking, sounds promising- let's see where they go with it. The Fuse! rocked out like they always do- because they're just fucking good at what they do. Man, I can't say how much I love The Fuse! They're gonna make a name for themselves in LA and the world if the right record company has the sense to put them out (Hello, Long Gone, Lee, Greg Lowery, Dave Crider, Larry hardy- anyone???). The Lords of Altamont took the stage and stole the show with Jake's trademark antics- a guy and his girl got taped a la bondage style to the microphone, the same guy got up onstage earlier and threatened us with his "2 inches of love". They are becoming even more notorious with each show. I think I like them better without the keyboards. It sounds more raw and rocking that way. Plus Jake can concentrate on abusing the audience more. Ha!  My god, everything went black after that. The Hellfire Choir and The Flash Express, sorry I was too drunk to recall the rest of the night.  Hey what else is new?

Guitar Wolf, DC Special @ The Garage Nov. 20 (?), 2001 It's been two years since they blew through town. The Old Faithful of garage rock'n'roll- Guitar Wolf made their presence knownst on this Tuesday night. They still don't miss a beat, maintain their cool, and comb their hair. Swoon! The last time they were here, Seiji and I ended up getting really sick on booze on top of our generally poor health. We got pulled over by the cops who let us go after careful interogation of our sober driver- Mister Rick Hall (3 cheers for Rick!). An earthquake happened when we all got back to the motel. All the memories came swelling back. The first time I tried Old Grandad was with Seiji-san. man, I don't have anything by them since they left Matador Records. Shit, but I did get to see their Japanese video collection and it's fucking ace genius! Rocket shoes, Seiji saves the world by punching a meteor headed for earth, Guitar Wolf in spaceships reminescent of Star Wars combing their hair-do's, other clips from "Sore Losers"- the JM McCarthy movie where they appear as aliens. Aaaahhh, trashiness IS entertainment.  I heard they are big in Japan so they don't bother to mess around with America, but I'm so glad when they do come around. It keeps us in check when we see an inspiring band like Guitar Wolf come and kick some serious ass. Now, where the fuck are The Mad 3? The DC Special got the lucky spot to open up. Tom fucking rocks and hollars louder than anybody in show business. They're sounding more like a unit and things are finally starting to pick up for those boys. There's mention of them being guided by the infamous Kim Fowley! Hmmm... will we see the boys donning tight spandex pants and singing, "Queens of Noise?" Ha ha, just kidding guys!

The Loud Speaker: You Didn't Hear It From US Motor City Diva's pleas for dope in Silverlake ladies room unheard by goody two shoed gals then she takes it onstage! The Piru Bloods furious over the popularity of the "Crip Walk"! Towhead guitarist booted out of local garage band Mystery headliners still to be announced for LA Shakedown Detroit rockers unite to protest being labeled "New Seattle" Towhead guitarist wins Billy Zoom lookalike contest then joins infamous local upstarts

Dee Dee Ramone: The Eternal Bass Idol

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The Guns'N'Roses Countdown: It's been approximately: 2, 555 days, 61,320 hours, 3,679,200 minutes since the last G'N'R album. (Although if you ask me, The Spaghetti Incident should not count since it was all covers, most of them shamelessly, self-decadently bad) This useful space wasting feature was brought to you by Texas Instruments TI-1795+) Semi-reputable sources were previously misquoted. The new G'N'R line up features: W.Axl Rose- fresh from shedding his winter weight! Tommy Stinson! (College rockers from the 80's- feel free to mourn in the inside) and a bunch of other people whose name I forgot because the source was droppin' 'em too fast... Meanwhile Slash, Duff and Matt Sorum are forming a new band to go head to head against Axl. Now if only Steven Adler, Fred Curry, Corey Parks, Ace Frehley and Rob Halford would start a band of people who were fired from other bands.

Don't Hold your Breath For The Next Hives Record Alright so the same source from above said The Hives were just picked up for Worldwide Distribution with Universal, even though they are on Warner Bros. Records. OK, this means that WB and Uni will be duking it out in the courts to see who gets the right to release the next record. Meanwhile, The Hives fans will be forced to wait while their attorneys waste rock time to make tons of dough and make Hives fans very angry. At that point, no one will probably care if The Hives release another album or not... How fucked up is that?!?! OK Hives- pick a team and play! Epitaph, Burning Heart, Gearhead, WB, Universal, whatever!- damn, how many pimps do you need for Christ's sake!

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Where's the beef? Here's the beef! 9/6/02 By Senior Correspondent Jackson- the angriest gay man in show business I did not sit through the damn MTV VMAs. I just couldn't do it. After seeing Jack White wearing his stupid bowler cap and fancying himself as the new American Dandy, I swore I would never watch something as inane as the VMAs. I know it's pretty redundant to talk about how lame MTV is, but it's downright enraging these days. I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore! The Vines?! Don't you mean The Hives from down under! Look what they did to poor old James Brown (I hope he pocketed a grip for that uninspired appearance), dancing like a monkey fool with that monkey fool Jimmy Fallon. He should be treated with  honor and respect. How could he do that to himself!? Must be some lean times for the Godfather of Soul. Then there's that little bitch Eminem! Why doesn't he pick on someone who's worth picking on?! Moby is a sliver of a man(?) who can't fight his way out of a cerebral palsy kindergarten. Why pick on someone so weak- that just prooves that you're weaker than the little pussy you're picking on therefore YOU Eminem are a BIG GIANT PUSSY.Try challenging a more worthy opponent. We hear Suge Knight or even Glenn Danzig would love to throw down on your silly ass.  Did you see Britney Spears in that biker trash outfit? She looked like a total hoe! Spearmint Rhino, anyone? Honey, you might be a rich bitch, but you can't buy class. No Doubt slept- er, I mean swept most of the band video categories. White Stripes owes a lot to the Lego Corp. If I were Lego, I would sue those little bastards. Hobby blues rock! Son House my ass! Fuck everybody, fuck everything. I hate you. I hate me. Die! Die! Die!

WHERE'S THE BEEF, HERE'S THE BEEF 9/23/02 BY: Jackson- The gayest human man-boy in the history of living organisms Listen, don't hate me because I'm beautiful- and I'm always right. The latest hit of the moment band I want to dump feces on is The Vines. I purposely missed them at the last CoacHELLa festival because I knew they were going to be gayer than even moi. These Aussie buttlords think they're The Hives, dress like The Goonies and look so damn marketable that they make the Bay City Rollers look like a serious band! Whoever wrote up their business plan needs to win a few awards at some stuffy hotel conference room luncheons. I mean, Be-Jesus you guys are giving Madonna a run for her money, and I, Jackson, never speak of the Holy Madre's name in vain! Here's a tip, be yourself, don't be like what you THINK everyone would like. Actually be the opposite and be something hateful. That way you have nothing to lose.

NEW BOMB TURKS, "DEMONS", and The Lords of Altamont @ The Knitting Factory By: Tr-Annie ESP 10/22/02 I know, it's not fair to write about Mrs. Namella's band but it's about time I wrote about a rock show. Wait, I never write about anything at all for this shitty site. Nam always takes me to dumb rock shows that I don't even care to go to but since she's on the list and I'm always out for a good party, I decided to go along. First of all The Knitting Factory is not cool for rock shows. I've been to hip hop shows here and it's alright because the indo smokes circulates really well in the show room.  Rock people don't smoke a lot, not like the hip hop nation. I saw The Lords before at The Lava Lounge. I think the singer, Jake looks like my friend, a really fabulous fashion hair stylist. He's tres chic and dresses and looks exactly like Jake. At first I thought it was Stylez (that's what I call him because he's so not into hip hop) but Nam told me it was this guy Jake. Anyways, Jake stood on his organ and put the organ on the floor, then stood on it again, then brought the organ back up, put lighter fluid on it and set it on flames. He's really entertaining for a white guy. (He's no Talib Kweli.) I was actually shaking my butt a lil', you know, puttin' the back on it. Nam totally caught me getting into it like making devil signs along with her- the whole nine yards. I'm sure she was going to blab it to everyone so I'm going to beat her to the punch. On a scale of one to crunk- I'd give it a duble doozy ultrasonic bubonic chronic crunk rating! I don't know shit about you rock'n'roll music types but I know a good band when I see one. Yo, respect! "Demons" (with quotation marks) are another story. They kept on reminding everyone they were from Sweden (like that's any excuse). It sounded like they were laying the same beats and flows for like an hour. Man, even hip hop gets tiring if it all sounds the same for an entire hour! Nigga please. People started to slowly escape to the bar area because it was so damn boring. Nam got us backstage, thank god. We smoked cigarettes and tired to get Harry Drumdini to talk to Jim Weber about being drunk in Ohio and urinating on a 7-11. Ah, I love any story that involves five-0 and pee. "Demons" were very upset after the show but that didn't stop them from trying to hit on us. We picked boogers from our noses to gross them out but knowing their funky foreign asses they probably loved it. The New Bomb Turks were really fast and loud! I thought they would explode from being so damn energetic- it's like this one time when my homie Curtis blew some ganja smoke into his sister's Chihuahua's nose. The little dog went all ballistic for a second then he keeled over a dropped dead. It was like thoe ectasy commercials. By the way if you ever do X, try to take a shit because it feels so good- like a refreshing waterfall coming out of your anus. Nam said this was probably going to be their last show. I wished they would have played sooner instead of those dorky "Demons". This is probably the last time I do something like this because I'm waaay too busy with my own line of cool- girlie- chic clothes that sells really well at the Blest store in Hollywood. Come on by and buy. Remember, "you touch, you buy" because my clothes are da bomb!

SUNSET JUNCTION 2002: Beg For It!!! This is usually featured in our fashion and lifestyle column but this year, we didn't have time to peruse the freak show. Instead we had better things to do, like shop away at the new and improved Pull My Daisy (now with the sought-after Japanese Hello Kitty vibrators! They make thoughtful and lovely gifts for your Olympia dyke emo friends!) and watch our favorite men hard at work. The Lords of Altamont were nice enough to drive us down there in their kustom van. Pimp! We stood around the back tent area, making our presence known, smoking cigarettes and looking tough...well, with the exception of Namella who boldly rode a skateboard luge style down a hill wearing her micromini-dress. I swear she had Power Puff Girls panties on! She skidded out of control while desperately trying to stop in her stack heel boots. I guess you had to be there, but that's part of the reason why we can stand her whiny, mean, diva ways. We stalked the disaster scene, checking out the stuff for sale, saying hi to some people, looking at walking tradegies in clothes, etc. We promptly stopped in at the Rough Trade (gay S&M store) booth where we were bowled over by their selection of mirrored sunglasses (James White and The Contortions album cover chick rules!) and vast array of Colt (gay pin up) brand mantasy photos. We found our way to Eat/Well where we spotted the Fab Miss Julie Pavlowski setting up for her band's set- right there at the front entrance! We trotted over to some clothing stores and bought some fierce street chic pieces. Meanwhile The Checkers featuring the aforementioned Miss Julie, GGKing (George from Radio Beat Records) and two other guys I don't really know, got things cooking- literally. They smoked through a bewildered crowd-pleasing set featuring some upbeat yet tough pop-punk-rock. We had to make a beeline to the giant stage to see our favorite men HARD at work, but The Checkers busted out with not one but two consecutively good covers, the first "Dreaming" then "354!" The Struts Sluts stopped dead in their tracks to shake it a little before we had to get going. The Checkers are so hot, you gotta "check" them out (oh, I know I couldn't resist.) It's the perfect mix of The Devil Dogs, Blondie, The Runaways, The Beat and The Kids- all my favorite bands rolled into one! We finally made our way across the desert landscape of freaks, food stands, and wares for sale to the main stage where we caught The Lords of Altamont kicking ass and taking names. Lead singer Jake "The Preacher" Cavaliere has this great kick that he does which isn't like Liberace chorus line gay kicks but more like a life-taking boot stomp. All the Ladies were present just kicking along and having a good fucking time. Their new bass player simply known as The Dealer is such a welcome addition to the line up (Yes, fresh meat to look at! Sorry ladies, he's taken!) We're just dying to hear their new single which will be out on the Fuct record label called Sonic Fever! I believe it's going to be called "$4.95" and it's about a dude buying a porno mag and getting off. Finally a song everyone can identify with. Hey by the way did anyone see my latest issue of Cheri?

AND SPEAKING OF THE CRAMPS... We got a sneak preview of the upcoming yet untitled album and we can attest that it's another classic. Our personal fave was "Dr. Fucker (Rock N Roll Emergency)" and "Big Bad Voodoo" and "Taboo". Ok so it's all great. I can't wait until it comes out!

FLAMIN' SIDEBURNS IN US AT LAST! We may be sluts but we have great taste in music and we KNOW when to get excited about a band! Make way for The Flamin' Sideburns. "You Better Testify" was a great soul rockin' song even before the garage rock craze hit. These gentlemen are right up there with Gluecifer and The Hellacopters in terms of rockin' out without cockin' out! So here's the latest from our friends at Bad Afro Records! "You better drink that wine!": SOMEWHERE IN FINLAND- The first The Flaming Sideburns album release in the US will happend October 22th when Jetset Records from New York release "Save Rock'n'Roll". The album is 3/4 of "Hallelujah Rock'n'Rollah" and 1/4 live tracks and a few tasters from "It's Time to Testify Brothers and Sisters". The band is currently working on new material before going to the US to support the album with shows with Mooney Suzuki and Sahara Hotnights and appearance at CMJ in New York

QUELLE EST LE BEOUF? C'EST N'EST LE BEOUF! By: The Still Angry and Gay, Jackson Hello again kiddies, it's your favorite faggot- Jackson. As loose as my anus really is, (I want you to know I use the term "favorite" really loosely) I mean most of you still hate gays (hello, smell the Y2K!) and queers and dykes. Struts has been nice enough to let me have my own forum, not because of my gayness, but because I am the angriest gay in show business and I know my music! There is no affirmative action for homos- and there's definitely no perks working for Struts (honey, I need to get PAID, oh-kaye?) My only joy comes when some of you readers actually take the time to drop me a line and AGREE with a lot of the shit I have to say. So, in case you need to know why the need for fairies, it's because we fairies tell it like it T-I-S! Ain't no shame in our game because if we can wolf down a Kelbasa AND take it in our buttholes, then nothing can make US cringe! Fag power! "Back To Bataan!" Oh those media darlings, The White Stripes will tour with The Rolling Stones and will appear on SNL this weekend. According to our sources they will rake in an estimated $40K per show with The Stones! Honey, I will never get $40K to do anything in one night- well unless I chance upon David Geffen somewhere...until that fantasy comes true all I can say to all you good boys and girls is, "Garage Rock = Profits!"  It's all over. Now if your nu-metal band is not going anywhere, shag your hair and buy some ties to go along with your Gibson SG. Remember, the blues makes the white man rich. The blues is why the black man sings. Think about that one while I sip on this Madras at Mickey's and wonder why I am still being picked up by fat hairy guys. Where's my smooth garage rock man-boys at? Oh by the way, who is Lifehouse and why should anybody care? Remember when rock'n'roll was sexy? Now it's all mountain men and hippie dorks singing about self-realization when they should really think about cutting their gross smelly hair and stop the genocide of rock'n'roll. I've had it! Hmph!

2/7- The Locust and Erase Errata @ The Troubador $10 2/8- Jonathan Richman @ Que Sera (I know he's playing in LA too but this place is so much more intimate!) 1923 7th St. (562) 599-6170, $10 2/9- THE MYSTERY GIRLS, THE ROLLING BLACKOUTS and THE CHEAP LAYS @  Alex's Bar 2913 E. Anaheim Blvd. in the LBC only $5! Go tell Nam she sucks again 2/14- X and The Lords of Altamont @ The Knitting Factory 2/15- Supergrass (!!) @ Spaceland- shaggy sideburns extra 2/18 and 19- Interpol @ The Henry Fonda Theatre- $17. Heed the new brood chic. Joy Division lives! 2/27- The Blood Brothers@ The Smell $7 2/28- The Dirtbombs and The Von Bondies @ The Troubador 2/28- The Whip (ex-Karp) @ The Smell 3/1- Dead Moon and The Pattern @ Spaceland 3/21- The Fuse!, The Orphans, The Fleshies @ The Smell

Where's MY Beef? by: Jackson Fag Rocker To The Stars Saturday night I was dragged (like by wild horses) to The Garage where I witnessed the world's  most hideous band on the planet. Hideous my girlfriends, meaning so damn bad, I had to think about it- really contemplate if you will, then decided it was the best damn thing I have ever experienced in my life aside from being confused for River Phoenix one night by a Keanu Reeves lookalike (oh, that's the GAY ideal of really fucking GOOD, honey!) The little slutty witch Namella and her boyfriends formed an orgy band called The Cheap Lays and managed to pull off such a disasterously fun show. I swore I went straight and actually thinking about taking her home (yeah, right fishy crotch- besides hands off, she's got Shawn from The Lords and no one can compete wit dat). Then again I had my sights set on those beefy hunks of The Girls from Seattle. Damn it was like salami hanging in some deli in Brooklyn! The Girls ripped through a blastin' set of garage rock'n'roll tipsy-sway hits! Just remember Jackson told you about The Girls when they become so famous they will HAVE to sleep with me.  I think my favorite part of the show was when The Cheap Lays got beer bottles thrown onstage and John Minor- their cute ass singer- sliced his hands open when he went on all fours (for me) while teling everyone to "Shut the fuck up!". Then Namella sat on the side of the stage cause she was so drunk, then fell back while still managing to (barely) play her bass, all while wearing a custom Jackson created black strapless number and Nazi boots! Hot mama! Richie their drummer is on fire! Talk about a little punk rock cutie boy! Stand back though he's got a kitten that's got claws, a tasy little morsel named Erika that will kick your fat ass. Brett from One Man Show Live was representin' his old band by wearing a denim jacket taped with the olde band name. He's single and ready to mingle ladies (no, gents I tried). Their songs include "(All The Kids Love) Hot Topic", "You People Are Ugly" and another one about " There's Bomb In Your Mailbox". Will they play again? According to Namella, yes they will go on tour in March and play at the Bigfoot in January. Punk rock, glamour, hung boys, after parties, the young guy disappearing with an old woman, gumbo, drinking, farting, arm wrestling all ensued. Jackson had a good night out but no one to cuddle with- does the bottle of Presidente count?

PHIL SPECTOR SEIZED AT HIS HOME FOR GUNSHOT MURDER OF WOMAN The Wall of Sound came tumbling down on Monday when legendary record producer Phil Spector was arrested and detained for murder charges. A body of a young woman was discovered by LAPD upon arrival to his home at around 5AM. According to initial reports, she had been shot to death but no autopsy has been performed yet.  Spector is being held on 1 million dollars bail. He will be represented by superstar attorney Robert Shapiro. We tried to get comments from his acquaintances but they all had no comment.

Where's The Beef: Jackson In Love With Hate 2/5/03 Hi kiddies, my butthole is gaping for some hot man love. Unfortunately I don't find myself in a position to do it with a man I have true feelings for! Good! As long as he looks good, has a big dick, and can go at least half the night, your Jackson is blissed out like Sherry Lansing at the Twin Palms. So fuck Valentine's Day, why do garage rockers need to celebrate this kinda shit? I gotta look out for myself, make sure I'm getting piss drunk, and listen to the hottest tunes in my dope ride. Fuck all this flowers and romance bullshit. Flowers die. People die. It's all fleeting anyways. I am IN LOVE with Interpol. Have you seen this band??? They're five hotties from NYC that sound like Joy Division, The Cure, etc. It's cool that they're trying to do something different although it's already been done before. By the time you read this they're gonna be the next big thing anyway. OK, look if you find someone you can stand to be around for a long time- that's the one. The One doesn't bug you as much; even when they do bug you, you can get over it. He or she has to have a record collection that exceeds or parellels yours and they must have their own fierce individual style or else, why would anyone want to spend time with them??? What was I talking about??? Oh yeah so if you decide to settle down make it it's with someone cool, OK? And like do it for real- don't ever take someone's life into your hands and crush it. Now where is my fag sized bottle of X??? Someone hug me please!