(Schrapnel)

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So there’s this guy, see? His name is Jizzy Pearl and he’s like, a singer, okay? He’s got a cool fake rock name and he used to sing for this band, Love/Hate, which was one of the best bands around. Except you might not have heard of them. They were around at the end of the ‘80s metal scene and they were, like, right fucking there when the thing was happening and were getting some airplay and opened up for AC/DC and shit like that. Then the whole fucking thing, you know, like MTV or whatever, just ended. All the LA bands went out of style and everyone was all Seattle and coffee and Reality Bites. Which makes sense since anyone who liked ‘80s cock-rock was all, “This sucks!” and Pearl Jam became huge. It’s all connected. Should have been Jizzy but it was all Vedder.

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So then all the guys with the cool fake rock names like Dizzy, Lizzy and Jizzy just up and disappeared. Then one day Jizzy comes back and he’s singing for L.A. Guns, which was started by Tracii Guns, (cool fake rock name) who also started Guns ‘N Roses but then left because there were too many guys with cool fake rock names in that band and it was harshing his mellow. But then Tracii was all Bad English and not Damn Yankees, so Jizzy got all Ratt-N-Roll, and later Guns ‘N Roses but they called it Adler’s Appetite, which was like the drummer from the other Tracii Guns band, but then Jizzy left that band and round and round what comes around goes around. And then he wrote a couple of books and made a solo record called Just A Boy which was way cool, junior, because he did it all on his own, like Minor Threat, baby. Which is pretty hardcore when you think about it. But not like Brian Baker. More like Junkyard. Sixes, sevens and nines.

So Jizzy goes to Vegas for a year and writes a record, okay? Call it rock and roll and come along. And he gets a dude from Great White and one guy from Salty Dog. Which is fucking crazy because Vegas is landlocked and there’s no ocean but there are strippers and nothing equals rock like a city filled with strippers. And they all have fake names. This whole record sounds like it was recorded for airplay in a strip club ‘cause all the songs are pretty rockin’ and girls with names like Tracey, Casey, Macey, Stacey and Chasey would dance to them. Get on your poles and ride. And you would plunk down one dollar after another because you want to lay it down but all the housegirls just snap their thongs and take your money. When you leave you’re broke and alone but you would still have the music, man. Or as Jizzy sings, “(It’s All) Hit And Miss” which is so totally on the money, baby. That and “Lies,” which isn’t about cool fake names but probably about a stripper. Most of the songs here are like that, but the fucking standout, okay, like for reals, is the one called, “Just Look at You Now” and that motherfucker swings like Sinatra singing the Doors, but all rock. It’s got piano and shit and that’s pretty awesome. There’s also a ballad called, “How’d I Get So Lonely?” which is pretty gay but will totally get the strippers misty-eyed so it’s, like, secretly genius. It’s about the love and hate, man. And with Jizzy Pearl you either love him or you hate him, ya know? The spinning wheel keeps turning, round and round. You get some fuel to run and blackout in the red room and when you wake up you have no money and you don’t even know your name and that’s when you realize that Vegas Must Die. I mean, totally.

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