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Hot Rocks 

Ink aficionados; Compound Radio; punkettes prancing; Stones gather moss; pulsating party

Wednesday, Apr 9 2008


Lina Lecaro

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Miss Hooker Pageant contestants salute at Dragonfly

Lina Lecaro

(Click to enlarge)

In bloom: designer Allison Burns and adult-film star Janine Lindemulder at Thought Gallery

Spring is here, and Nightranger’s been itching for more than new frilly frocks. We’re thinkin’ about some fresh (flowery?) ink, especially after last week, when it seemed like babes with beauteous, bloom-marked bodies beckoned everywhere we went. The art on the walls — from the likes of Clay Decker, Piper Ferguson, Apollo Staar and Coop — was rivaled only by the art on the patrons themselves at the Compound Radio benefit at the new Thought Gallery on Cahuenga (adjacent to and owned by The Burgundy Room). Compound head/former Danzig bassist Josh Lazie and his gal pal, adult-film star Janine Lindemulder, are ink aficionados (Lazie even worked for Mark Mahoney back in his early days), so it wasn’t exactly surprising. True Tattoo’s mustachioed madman Oliver Peck was in the house (along with his art), as was colorful purse designer Allison Burns, who gave us samples from her latest girly-goody endeavor, an über-shiny lip-gloss line called Armour — created with Lunachicks lovely Theo Kogan (another drawn-up dame). With all the animated party animals flowing back and forth between the bar and the art space, the scene brought to mind Cahuenga’s gritty and gregarious preswankified days. Good times.

As for the station, is a listener-supported Internet offering run out of Lazie’s Hollywood kitchen, and it features some of the most unusual programming you’ll hear anywhere. U.S. Bombs/Die Hunns’ Duane Peters hosts a show called Straight to Hell, while wifey Corey Parks (Nashville Pussy/Die Hunns/The Lizzies) co-hosts a completely brilliant Monday noontime trash-talk fest with Lazie called Coffee Talk, and DH Peligro (Dead Kennedys) comes alive with Radio Peligro. Other shows — Mexican Radio, Dub Side of the Moon and Breakfast With Bowie — are equally addictive. Talk about a radio clash.

Click here for more pictures from this week's Nightranger.


After the benefit, Natalia Fabia’s Miss Hooker Pageant at The Dragonfly was teeming not only with tats, but lots of twirling ta-tas too. We had reservations about the name of this show at first (after all, what gal, no matter how sexually brazen she is, wants to be called a hooker?), but after catching the spectacle, which blended Velvet Hammer–style sauciness with the wackiness of The Beauty Bar’s long-running Drop Dead Gorgeous pageants, we changed our minds. These rollicking rock chicks are having fun with the term, and maybe even taking it for their own, like rappers (try to) do with the N word. Either way, the event was a ho-free hoot, and its procession of pierced and manic panicked punkettes prancing about in evening gowns and bathing suits (many designed by Fabia, who wrote the basic script for the show herself) offered “tricks” of a different sort. In addition to a bevy of burlesque, the talent portion of the pageant included yo-yoing, melodic whistling and egg frying. The fry girl, “Miss One Dolla No Holla” a.k.a. Marissa Gomez, won the whole shebang, and she and her court (“Miss Strawberry” a.k.a. singer/former Billy Corgan keyboardist Linda Strawberry, Jen Niles a.k.a. “Misguided,” and “Platinum Puss” a.k.a. Burgundy Room barmaid Vanessa Morrelle) were serenaded by none other than Burgundy’s blues-singing doorman, Torrance Jackson (which explained why we didn’t see the gatekeeper at his usual post at our first pit stop). Gawd, this town is incestuous ... Get a li’l “hooker” style for yourself with Fabia’s “Hookerfeathers” jewelry line, available at


By now, you’ve probably heard a bunch o’ cracks about, well, the cracks on display in The Rolling Stones’ new Martin Scorsese–directed concert flick, Shine a Light. Yes, they’re old dudes. Yes, they’ve got wrinkles. Know what’s really old? The jokes. In this world of Botoxed-to-oblivion over-50 celebs, it’s nice to see real rock & roll rebels, who’ve lived raunchy and raucously rich lives, unretouched by needles/surgeons/camera tricks, and these grandpas continue to prove they still groove harder than anyone else. Who looks good with a camera up their nose, anyway? Even foxy Jack White looked kinda fugly in IMAX. We enjoyed the film, but after a preview screening at Universal CityWalk (where we spotted Paul McCartney guitarist Rusty Anderson, artist Louis Cannizzaro and singer/producer Kat Kramer in the crowd, along with Jack FM listeners — many in Stones gear, which scored ’em VIP seating), we were left with a few fan conundrums: (1) If they had to have Christina Aguilera as a guest, why oh why didn’t they get her to do the female part in Gimme Shelter (a shocking song omission in the film regardless, considering Scorsese has used it in, like, every single one of his movies)? (2) What’s with the lyric changes (“black girls” and “the Kennedys” were nowhere to be heard in “Some Girls” and “Sympathy for the Devil”)? 3) Why do people always have to go to the bathroom during the Keef song? Just like at their arena shows, there was a noticeable migration in the movie theater during Richards’ sweet — axless — solo. And (4) Bill Wyman, even if nobody else does, we Miss You!


From elder statesmen to relative embryos: After the screening, we made our way over to Dance at Arena, the Tuesday 18-and-(barely)-over electro club featuring spin-whiz DJ Paparazzi on the decks. Wow. This is one pulsating party, and though anyone over, say, 24 might feel a bit long in the tooth here (ironic, considering the first part of our eve), the energy and awesome display of hair-gel skillz are, funnily enough, very Glimmer Twins circa ’77. The threads are more Wham! than Wham Bam, though. Check out Dance’s copious cuties and coifs (as well as the tatted tarts from the events above) in what is surely one of our best online slide shows ever.

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