In search of Jim Morrison's spirit, this was my first trip to the infamous Whiskey A Go Go. There was a point in my life where I thought Morrison was god. I have grown older and now realize he was merely a genius (with god-like qualities). The Whiskey was a key aspect in the development of what would be the Doors and has been mentioned in the same breath as Morrison's name so often as to give the club that same "legendary" status shared by venues like the Viper Room or New York's CBGB's. Just visiting this holy mecca would be a milestone in my life (I know that's cheesy, but so is my life). All of which has absolutely nothing to do with the bands I saw this night (just wanted to share my excitement of finally hanging out at the Whiskey - I feel cool now).

Upon entering the Whiskey I noticed a charcoal rendition of Jim hanging on the far end of the downstairs bar. That's the closest I came to touching Jim's spirit. The vibe of the club had a seriously 80's thing happening. Rumors of Poison playing a surprise were still floating around, but reliable sources said that only C.C. Deville's new band would be performing.

I got a weak-ass Jack and Coke ($6.50!) and staked out a space in the back to check out the first band Stanley. The crowd was fairly sizable by the time Stanley took the stage (proving that even an opening slot on a Saturday at the Whiskey can be a decent opportunity). Stanley play a sort of aging gothic metal without the darkness (kind of like earlier Queensryche without the bite). The singer had a really good range and decent tone (or decent vocal effect - couldn't decide which).

The crowd was accepting, if not overzealous. Personally, I thought they were talented musicians who got that way by playing for years and years (the average age of Stanley appears to be 35 pushing 40+) with really good equipment, but rocked in that 'old-guy' mode - meaning there was lots of receding hair-line head flipping and open stanced - open mouthed - open eyed nodding to get the crowd "into-it". They seemed sincere and happy to be there though and I think a handful of people really appreciated what they were doing. I was not one of them.

I noticed C.C. Deville slinking up the stairs, sporting a bleached platnuim white mop and towing a guitar and nodding a friendly 'hello' to anyone who made eye contact.

Reactor brought their brand of slick-metal out next. Big hair, exposed chests and guitar solos abound - this is cock rock performed by guys that probably couldn't pass for sexy (although they seemed to try really hard). Reactor are metal. A hollywood 80's type metal. Pretty aggressive for this kind of thing. They all 'rocked-out' a lot, but it looked like a lot of posing and posturing to me. They were tight and a good chunk of the crowd reacted favorably to their set - I just had enough of this kind of thing years ago. For those stuck in the 80's (about 70% of this crowd), Reactor might not be a bad bet.

Next up was C.C. Deville's new band "The Stepmothers". This was their first official show and C.C. was sincere in his thanks to the now capacity crowd gathered to hear his new material. Repeatedly, C.C. humbly verbalized his appreciation to the crowd.

The three piece stumbled through a set of self-exposing songs mostly revolving around themes of C.C. fame (or lack there of nowadays) and experiences drawn from that. They were pleasant rock ditties, usually revolving around some witty chorus like "Everything I write - just comes out wrong". They weren't entirely bad, but C.C. cannot sing often hitting sour notes. It got better through the set - but them first couple were pretty raw. "Jealousy of Brett (Michaels)" prompted C.C. to be a lead singer he said during the entertaining stage patter that preceded most songs. As a front man, C.C. has had so much experience in front of a crowd, he is very pleasurable to listen to as he expounded on the virtues of parking (or lack there-of) in LA and some of his problems with drugs. C.C. is a sincerely nice guy (on stage anyway) and he really was just happy to have the opportunity to play. I think he is grounded in the reality of where his career and place in the current music industry lies and does not carry himself with any 'Worship me - I was in Poison" crap. Rather, I am sure that he realizes his past success probably hinders, more than helps, his current musical endeavors. It's one thing to have to live in the shadow of your former band, but when the current industry standards more or less shun the whole glam era your former band championed, it's even a bigger holdback.

I (along with my companions) watched this set with a mix of respect and feeling sorry for C.C. It would be different if the music was something incredibly groundbreaking, but watching this set, there is no way this incarnation of C.C.'s music will ever attain a fraction of his former bands glory. That's not to say the world should dismiss his talent as a musician entirely, but I fear the Stepmother's aren't going to break down any new doors, rather pass through the ones that are open to them already. I at least give him credit for not jumping on the 80's reunion bus that has seen most all of his contemporary's rehashing their glory days for the aging metal kids. (But I have a sneaky suspicion that we'll see the Poison reunion soon enough - prove me wrong C.C.!) Added note: C.C. hung out after the show talking to fans outside the club. He seemed very happy to have a crowd to relate to, eagerly signing autographs and posing for pics. For as unmoved as I was toward his music, I respect C.C. as an individual and kind of get upset at press who take pot shots at the 'has-been' 80's rockers. It's this same press that helped develop and overdevelop that whole glam scene and people must realize - things that become cliché became that way because at one point - they were cool as hell and every emulated said coolness until it became lame. It's a cruel world when the same efforts and persona that brought you the world, now enable the world to laugh at you. I do not laugh at you C.C. (just maybe some of your music).

The main reason for attendance tonight was the Van Halen tribute band "The Atomic Punks". My first experience with a 'Tribute" band came in the form of the portrayers of Kiss "Hotter Than Hell" just two weeks ago. I was never really a Kiss fan so some of the effect was lost on me. However, Van Halen was truly the first band to rock my Junior High world. Van Halen was the first band I could name all four members.

Van Halen was the first arena rock show I ever went to (1984 tour y'all!). Yes, Van Halen had played an instrumental force in my musical upbringing. When the rest of the music world was kicking out metal wannabe's like Quiet Riot, Ratt and Twisted Sister, Van Halen was plowing through all that crap (well, until they let go of David Lee Roth) and putting out quality hard-rock. My 8th grade mind was totally blown away when I saw the machine of Van Halen in all it's glory on that 1984 tour. So naturally, I was pumped to hear an evening of classic Halen tunes. Unfortunately, I missed Atomic Punks opening song or two (my crew and I decided to pick up a couple of 40's and drink them in an alley true Hollywood style after my second weak-ass $6.50 Jack and Coke made me realize I would end up dropping a week's pay to sit and drink in the Whiskey. I understand the expensive prices in the bigger clubs - but at least give me some alcohol with my ice and coke - sheeesh).

I entered the club to refrains of "Ain't talkin' 'bout Love!" being shouted by the entire floor and a dervish of bleached blonde hair leading them. Damn, he looks like Dave. And sounds exactly like Dave. Even down to the "ho-yeahs" and "ho-rights", the execution was flawlessly Dave sounding. He pimped and posed ala vintage Roth but neglected to do the high acrobatics that David Lee Roth often employed. No splits or spinning kicks tonight, but lots of crowd interaction and singing. The singer (actually named 'Ralph') gave a little insight into the Atomic Punks during a break in the song. "We don't think we're Van Halen" he said, "This is a tribute to Van Halen and their music". "It's Saturday night in Hollywood and this is some of the best music ever written - so let's have some fun". He berated the musicians in the crowd saying you can spot them by their "standing there with the crossed-arms waiting for the guitarist to miss a note". He really was a good front man coaxing the crowd into sing-a-longs and generally rocking out.

All songs where from the Roth era. "No Hagar-Halen!" singer promised - followed by a quick sample of cheesy Hagar-era guitar riff from the guitarist - and definitely no "Cherone-Halen!" to which the crowd screamed in approval. Songs like "Hot for Teacher" and "UnChained" really had the place moving. During "Unchained" this incredible hot girl in a short dress did a little dance up and down the front of the stage - playfully exposing her panties to the crowd. That was pretty cool.

The rest of Atomic Punks don't really attempt to look like Van Halen. Although sporting some longer frizzy black hair, the guitarist looked more like Howard Stern than Eddie Van Halen - but, as one would expect from a guitarist in a Van Halen tribute band, he ripped - even tackling a version of Eruption that had other well-known Eddie guitar pieces woven into the piece. The bass player had a good voice to mimic the underrated backing vocals of VH bassist Michael Anthony, but like the guitarist - pretty much held back the stage presence and let the roth-like singer lead the way. The drummer was good with a monster kit (it took four dudes to hall the assembled kit on stage) but the only chance he had to really show off was the beginning of "Hot for Teacher".

It was a very comprehensive set touching on all eras of Van Halen through the 1984 album. Being an old-school Halen fan (and exclusively old-school only at that) - the set rocked. It wasn't Van Halen (nor did it try to be), but rather a night celebrating the tunes that bring me back to the days of my youth. I was moved. The crowd reaction was incredible. They rocked out as hard as anyone could to a cover band - all with smiles from ear to ear. I'm still wearing mine . . .