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26 - January 13, 1998 THEATRE OF PAIN GOOD TIMES ROCK AND ROLL CLUB I thought I fell asleep while driving my car on this frigid evening in November. Only to be awakened by the homoerectus gatekeeper demanding compensation to enter the facility for time travels better known as Good Times Rock and Roll Club (not a constituent nor a subsidy of this fine periodical). Located in the epicenter of that megalopolis, Nesconset N.Y., this saloon harbored one of the most superlative Motley tribute bands ever to intersect my sardonic trail; Theatre of Pain. These former genetic engineers have created an emulation so precise; I thought I was back in my living room viewing MTV circa 1984 with a trusty bucket of gastric intestinal fluids by my side. "Everyone always told me I sounded like Vince Neil" explains singer/kraut George Bergmann, "...so on day I said hey, ;let's do it, and started this band." Not only can he forge Neil's vocal prowess (give ear to his rendition of "Home Sweet Home," moreover, unlike the hapless manslaughter, he has no reason to stuff his pants with knee socks. (When he displayed that edifice of flesh protruding from his crotch, the band's most devout groupies absconded in terror). Guitarist Russ Dackow, who was also instrumental in the advent of the imitation, would absolutely kick Mick Mars off his planetary highhorse. He ripped though the solo of "Shout at the Devil" like a Martian in heat. I must also mention he has copulated on several occasions while wearing his wig. Bassist Julian Simonelli carries the rhythm on "Dr. Feelgood" so well Nikki Sixx would lick the shoes of this Italian pump magnet and then auto-erotically asphyxiate himself with his strings. If I could only be present to see the look on Pamela Lee's face when she witnessed the hardy drum style of Jack Fontana. Picture this: The band breaks into the song "Primal Scream" The buxom actress starts fibrillating. Then, sliding off her seat, she motors her milk wagons over to Jack and parks them on his face. Congratulation Tommy Lee, you now have hand. If you were ever a Crue fan you'd be remiss to pass up an opportunity to see Theatre of Pain. Whether it's the mirror image they visually manifest:, the musical reproduction of jukebox quality, or the inane between song dialogue, there is no denying this act's capturing of the Motley Crue nuance. After seeing them, I felt a propensity to resurrect my old records when I realized that wasn't a sine qua non to visit those hair spray heads from the past. All I have to do is paint on some spandex (tying a bandanna around my groin of course), strap on that nostalgic seat belt, and locate the nearest establishment housing those patriarchs of ALL tribute bands: Theatre of Pain! - Chris Gerald |
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