I’m not gonna front like I was a big Bang Tango fan in the band’s late ’80s / early ’90s heyday — I could maybe hum you a few bars of “Someone Like You” (pre-Adele) at best, but I was really too young — although I’ve enjoyed their music enough since then to loosely follow whatever Joe LeSte is doing, and I absolutely LOVED the debut Beautiful Creatures album. I have no idea how many times Bang Tango have broken up and gotten back together or who played in the band each time, but  whenever something new comes out that says “Bang Tango” on it I’m always interested in a listen.

BT’s new album Pistol Whipped In The Bible Belt came out in September of last year, and now they’ve released a music video for “I Like It,” posted below. The video isn’t nearly half as entertaining as the video of drunken Joe LeSte babbling to an audience, but the song itself is catchy and memorable and LeSte sounds really good (and, in the beginning, very zezy and un-LeSte-like). Watch it below, then get freaky with us in the comments section.

-VN

Even as a hair metal fan, I was never really into Trixter’s music. That being said, I will always hold a special spot for them in my heart, because they made what is arguably the single funniest music video in the history of the medium. I don’t mean metal videos, either — I mean they made the one actual funniest music video of all time. It was called “Give It To Me Good,”and there is not a single frame of it which isn’t comedy gold. If the Saturday Nighy Live ”Schmitt’s Gay” commercial parody was a 100% unironic music video, it would be “Give It To Me Good.” It is a video in which a bunch of dudes in pastel colors do cartwheels through an empty feel for no reason other than how the fuck else do you sell a rock record?

[NOTE: Actually that might be a chick in the pink, but I can't really tell for sure, on account of the fact that many of the dudes are also wearing tummy tees.]

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UPDATED:

L.A. Guns is one of the most successful and influential bands in the history of metal, an act who music is rivaled only by Black Sabbath and Metallica for its importance to the history of the music we love. So of course, it makes complete sense for there to be two versions of that band, one featuring a guy who is clearly a poor man’s stand-in (or a “Dj Slashba,” if you will) for the band’s namesake, and another which switches vocalists so often that even the members of the band aren’t sure who’s performing with them at any given concert.

And because the world has so great benefitted from having two versions of L.A. Guns, and because the members of those two bands make so much money and sell so many records competing with one another, Great White has now decided to get in on the act: vocalist Jack Russell recently announced the formation of “Great White featuring Jack Russell” while his former bandmates soldier on simply as “Great White.” And if that doesn’t seem like a sound plan to you, well, hey, guess what? It’s cool, because the Great White that doesn’t feature Jack Russell says Jack Russell can’t just start another band called Great White.

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UPDATED:

I <3 Steel Panther! As much as I love their albums, I feel like they’re even funnier when they’re on-stage just yukking it up. Yeah, these dudes are phenomenal musicians, they write great songs and play some great covers, but half the fun of a Steel Panther show is all the between-song banter and comedy skits they do.

SP aren’t too good for a little unplugged action either. Today I give you two clips: 1) an acoustic performance of “17 Girls In A Row” they did for Kerrang! Radio last week, 2) a special X-rated rendition of “The 12 Days of Christmas,” a cappella. Enjoy.

ORIGINAL POST:

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For every Vince there’s a Nikki, for every Steven Tyler there’s a Joe Perry, for every Axl there’s a Slash (or Izzy, as it were); rarely is the frontman of a band the driving creative force and chief songwriter, even when he’s the outsize personality. I love Stephen Pearcy to death and what he brings to the table in Ratt as a frontman and voice, but his new solo stuff just ain’t doing it. Without Warren DeMartini’s sweet n’ tasty riffs, “Don’t Wanna Think About,” Pearcy’s new solo single, could be any old group of dudes in an aging bar band. I’m sure the dudes in his band are all great guys, but the way they’re dolled up in this video they look like the waiting room of a Five Finger Death Punch audition session:

Ratt’s last album was so good (#1 of 2010 good!) that I wanted to like Pearcy’s upcoming solo record Sucker Punch at all costs, but if this is the best song that just ain’t gonna happen. Hopefully those guys get to kissing and making nice instead of talking smack in the press sooner rather than later

-VN

Last month, Billy McCarthy and James Stonich, from the Chicago band Kid Rocker, brought a lawsuit against Poison, Capital Records, and EMI Music, claiming that they were owed money because Poison guitarist C.C. DeVille stole some songs from them, including ”Talk Dirty To Me,” “I Won’t Forget You,” “Fallen Angel” and “Ride the Wind.” At the time, The Hollywood Reporter was, uh, y’know, reporting that “before… [DeVille] joined Poison, he auditioned for Kid Rocker.” The fact that DeVille’s relationship with McCarthy and Stonich was so tenuous, combined with the fact that it had inexplicably taken these men more than two decades to bring the lawsuit against Poison, made the whole thing feel, well, bullshitty.

But it might not be so bullshitty after all. McCarthy and Stonich’s lawyer is now claiming to have a recording of a 1994 radio interview in which DeVille admits that he was in a band called Screamin’ Mimis with with McCarthy (who our pal Mick Stingley tells me was also in D’Molls), before telling McCarthy that “for that first album, you should have made some money,” and  ”we have video tapes of us doing ‘Talk Dirty To Me’.” And now Metal Insider has dug up that video, which does, indeed, show DeVille with McCarthy and Stonich, performing “Talk Dirty to Me.” Check it out:

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Robin Leach — yes, that Robin Leach — reports in the Las Vegas Sun that Mötley Crüe “will play a nearly monthlong series of three- and four-night concerts a week” at the Hard Rock Hotel in Vegas… I’m assuming at The Joint, that hotel and casino’s own 4,000-person-capacity venue. The news has yet to be confirmed by any representatives from the Hard Rock or The Crüe, but it seems plausible.

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The current drama in the Ratt camp that’s playing out through the media is nothing short of ridiculous, but we really shouldn’t be surprised; they’ve always conducted business this way! It’s part of how they operate, like how you know Axl Rose is always going to show up late to a concert or how an abusive husband is probably gonna repeat the same behavior over and over again despite what he promises. Eventually Pearcy, DeMartini, Blotzer and co. will kiss and make nice, after which they’ll inevitably hate each other even more and sink to even deeper lows via press mud-slinging. Hopefully they can record an album as unstoppably good as 2010′s Infestation in between.

The latest: Blotz referred to the way the rest of the band handles business as “a joke,” as if the very act of him saying that was somehow not apt to be included in his own statement (so meta!). The sleuths at Metal Insider then goaded Stephen Pearcy to react via Twitter:

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Interview and live pics by Emily Eve; girls on stage pic by Friedia Niimura

In one sense, making records is like using the toilet: It takes more to do number two than number one. And in the case of L.A. heavy metal semi-parodists Steel Panther, a follow-up to their wildly funny and compulsively banging 2009 debut Feel The Steel is an even bigger, stinkier challenge: This time, fans can see them coming, um so to speak. But in the spotlight’s glare, before expectant ears and faces poised to smile, lead singer Michael Starr and crew deliver a bigger, dirtier, and awesomer mass of heavy metal hilarity called Balls Out (available Tuesday). The 14-track tour de farce covers 47 amazing minutes, a range of hot-button rocker issues (drugs, gender roles, boners), and a load of singalong mega-choruses and nip-scorching guitar solos unheard since pro tools was just an aisle at Sears. To those somehow able to resist Feel The Steel, I say: You’re fucked now. Balls Out is stronger than you and your feeble protestations. Crank. It. Up.

This feat of skill and cocksmanship on display in Balls Out begs for investigation, so last week I went to hear firsthand how Steel Panther achieved the equivalent of making a Ghostbusters II better than its Ghostbusters I. And though it was a rainy, gusty Autumn night, the huge Steel Panther dressing room was buzzing heatedly as I sat down with Starr and lead bass player Lexxi Foxxx to get answers. Just nearby were lead guitarist Satchel (at whom I gazed lovingly whenever his inattention allowed) and lead drummer Stix Zadinia (with entourage) as the three of us gabbed highly about Balls Out, drugs, vaginas, immaturity, maturity, the guy from Nickelback, shaving stuff, the responsibilities of being Steel Panther, and much more.

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According to The Hollywood Reporter, two dudes named Billy McCarthy and James Stonich, who were members of a Chicago band called Kid Rocker, are now suing Poison, Capital Records and EMI Music  – because they claim that C.C. DeVille tried out for their band in 1984, heard a bunch of their demos, and then stole those songs, which include the Poison hits ”Talk Dirty To Me,” “I Won’t Forget You,” “Fallen Angel” and “Ride the Wind.”  THR reports that “The plaintiffs are demanding disgorgement of all profits from the songs in question, statutory damages for willful infringement, and an injunction that prevents Poison and [Bret] Michaels from performing this allegedly stolen material.”

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No. I am not kidding.

Nor am I upset. If you don’t liked this song, I take issue with you.

-AR

[via SkullsNBones]

Some will say that it’s hypocritical of me to make fun of Bret Michaels for launching Pets Rock, a line of “rock and roll pet gear” that will be sold exclusively at Pet Smart stores starting next summer, even though I love Ben Weinman’s Garmutt apparel for dogs. But I assert that there are three key differences between the two companies, besides the fact that, y’know, Weinman is brilliant and Michaels is not so much brilliant. And those differences are as follows:

1. Like I said, Michaels’ products will be sold exclusively at Pet Smart; Garmutt only sells to “independent brick-and-mortar retailers… [not] big-box pet chains.” Point: Garmutt.
2. The name “Garmutt” is witty. The name “Pets Rock” clearly took all of two seconds for some schmoe to think up. I haven’t seen the Pets Rock products yet, but I’d wager we’ll be able to say the same about those items, too; Garmutt is famous for their “Master of Puppies” dog hoodies, but I bet the best thing Michaels’ team will come up will be something about cats and pussies. Point: Garmutt.
3. Weinman is a known animal lover who has done work for PETA. Michaels, meanwhile, has been mercilessly slaughtering golden retriever puppies for years in order to continue manufacturing his wigs. Dude wasn’t even nice to the dogs he slept with on Rock of Love. Point: Garmutt.

I defy you to argue against my logic. It simply cannot be done.

-AR

[via Noisecreep]

And I bet some of those girls were really, really sore by the end.

ANYWAY, lest you think my headline is just my usual crude B.S., you should know that “17 Girls in a Row”* is the title of the new Steel Panther song (below), and the bit about never going flaccid is an actual lyric from said song. More importantly, though, you should be asking yourself this question: How come actual vintage hair metal bands that are still recording and touring, like Mötley Crüe, Poison, and both versions of L.A. Guns, can’t come up with anything this good?

“17 Girls in a Row” comes off of Steel Panther’s latest, Balls Out, which will be released on November 1.

-AR

*I can’t type that song title and not think of this scene from Clerks. It’s the “in a row” part that gets me every time.

[via Bring Back Glam!]

Two weeks I wrote about how Ratt’s “Dance” is an excellent stripping song, and jested about trying it out myself. Jokes aside, I’ve always been fascinated by strip clubs and strippers and the whole shebang. It’s just so weird to me. The way it all functions and how lucrative it really is. When I was in college, we affectionately called the street right next to us “Stripper Alley” because of the cluster of clubs situated two steps from the dorms. You’d be hard-pressed to find worse houses of “burlesque” in the country.

Unfortunately, any fantasies or visions of naked grandeur were put to rest when I attended one innocent evening and an enthusiastic and obviously pregnant girl started raving about how much she loved my name. ‘Cause my real name was her stage name. Thanks, mom and dad.

It’s hard to deny that there’s some connection between metal, especially hair metal, and stripping. They go hand in hand like… syphilis and crazy. But I really don’t like the “stripping songs” that everyone always seems to go with. “Pour Some Sugar On Me”… like, really? There are so many underrated bands from that era and even more underrated songs. Some just had bad timing and some were plain ignored. But it got me thinking.

So here are the top underrated bands (note: “underrated” does not necessarily mean “unpopular”) of the 80s and early 90s, along with their corresponding strip songs. Now, these aren’t my choices, mind you — I just think they’d get the job done. I really hope no family members are reading this but if they are: HEY YOU GAVE ME A STRIPPER NAME, THIS WAS INEVITABLE.

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If my math is correct, the only band to ever go through more line-up changes than Guns N’ Roses is L.A. Guns. And since sometime around ’04/’05, there have been two versions of L.A. Guns in the world, neither of which seems to have a very stable line-up… although I guess, in all fairness, the version with vocalist Phil Lewis and drummer Steve Riley has the better track record, since they just keep losing bass players, and have managed to hold onto guitarist Stacey Blades (yes, the replaces a dude calling himself “Guns” with a dude calling himself “Blades”) for some time now, whereas the version with Tracii Guns himself goes through singers, drummers, and rhythm guitarists the way a thirteen year old boy goes through tissues.

But that doesn’t change the fact that, according to the most recent U.S. Census, if you are a musician living in the greater Los Angeles area, there is a 95% chance that you have been a member of a band calling itself L.A. Guns at some point in the past ten years. And if you’re somehow part of the 5% that hasn’t been in one of the bands, well, now here’s your chance, ’cause according to a posting on his message board, Jizzy Pearl has now split with Tracii Guns’ L.A. Guns:

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9/11 is obviously a complicated issue, and it’s one I feel no desire to make light of. So when discussing Bret Michael’s new 9/11 tribute video, “One More Day,” I am going to try to be sensitive as possible.

Fuck Bret Michaels in the eye.

Wait wait wait wait, that came out wrong. What I meant to type was  –

FUCK BRET MICHAELS IN THE MOTHERFUCKING EYE.

This video isn’t reprehensible (just) because it’s a cheesy oversimplification of the aforementioned complicated issue. I don’t even really care that Michaels used it as an opportunity to glorify himself as a USO performer — he’s not the first celebrity to pat himself on the back for doing something nice, and he won’t be the last.

No no no, what’s really offensive about this video is inclusion of the following picture:

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Partway through the first song of the Motley Crue concert Vince and I attended last month, I turned to another friend who was with us and asked, “What the fucking fuck is Vince Neil saying?” To which he replied in the only logical way — with a shrug.

That Neil can’t sing so good anymore (if he could ever sing so good) isn’t news; he’s notorious for being fat and easily winded, and for dealing with that lack of breath by just slurring lyrics together so it kinda-sorta-but-not-really sounds like the song he’s performing. (For example, if they lyrics are “He’s the one they call Dr. Feelgood/He’s the one that makes ya feel alright,” Neil might mumble “HesthecallFeelgood/Hesthealrye.”) Still, it’s depressing to think that Anna Graceman, and eleven year old girl who happens to look like Neil if Neil were 800 pounds lighter and three feet taller, did a better job singing “Home Sweet Home” on last night’s episode of America’s Got Talent than Neil has done since, I dunno, probably 1986 or so. Metal Insider points out that Graceman “was born the year the Crue’s New Tattoo came out,” which means that she, like the general public, does not remember when New Tattoo came out, or probably even what New Tattoo is.

-AR

I was bored and clicking around on the Internet like you do, when I discovered two things on the Crashdiet site. First of all, I realized what their merch mascot reminds me of. I love you, Crashdiet and your extremely marketable new singer, but, um, you’re sort of ripping off The Casualties.

To be fair, every other punk band has done it too (The Exploited, Bad Religion, etc.,) but to be even fairer, you’re not punk.

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The only member of the original Skid Row that Sebastian Bach is still on speaking terms with is drummer Rob Affuso, probably because he, like Baz, was sacked from the band at some point in-between Subhuman Race and Whatever the Album After Subhuman Race Was Called. But whatever the reason, Affuso hopped up on stage with Bach last night during the singer’s solo show in Poughkeepsie. And while they had the good sense not to perform “Youth Gone Wild,” they did not have the good sense to have Rachel Bolan, Scotti Hill, and Dave Sabo on stage, too.

-AR

[via Classic Rock]

I’ve been a long-time (and rather outspoken) fan of the glam revival that is sleaze metal, but I can quite honestly say that “Hot,” by Reckless Love, is one of the worst songs I’ve heard all year.

It doesn’t get much fluffier than Reckless Love. They’re literally modern-day hair metal; all looks and no substance. In simplest terms, that’s what distinguishes crappy hair bands desperately clinging to a gimmick from bands that just happened to fit the musical and physical definitions of a genre (but actually made good music). I’d compare Reckless Love to Tigertailz rather than anything by, like, Cinderella (a.k.a. “music I can stand”). But I still prefer Steevi Jaimz and his Marq Torien rasp (“Amazing,” from his solo project, is pretty good) to anything by the overly fake-tanned Finns. Man, and I just wrote a piece approving of that country’s bands. Way to wreck the curve, guys.

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