Born in the USO

But Thornton wants to change that; he wants to create a destination club, like a Hard Rock Cafe or a House of Blues, a place people frequent even when the marquee boasts an unrecognizable name. "When people don't know what to do, I want them to say, 'Hey, let's go to VQ Live. The music's always good there.' "

The new clubs, says Thornton, also plan to carry on in the Vision Quest tradition of providing for the entertainment-deprived. "We're not sure where yet," he says. "There are two beliefs: One says we open clubs in Austin, Dallas, College Station and San Antonio. But there's another side that says those places are already overfed. Why not go to where people are starved? Midland, El Paso. That's my belief, but there's got to be studies."

Deron Neblett

Though its locale, in the armpit of a Scarsdale Boulevard strip mall, is less than ideal, VQ Live has major-venue potential.

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On the surface, it's hard to say how starved people along Scarsdale are for live music. The only nearby clubs that host live entertainment are a couple of sports bars, places not necessarily known for their hospitality to original music. To hear any act of note, folks near Scarsdale would probably have to migrate as far north as downtown Houston.

"Every show, I'm getting to learn [the audience]," says Thornton. "Only a certain number of bands we can book here. Up-and-comers, or -- I don't want to use the word 'has-beens,' but -- bands that have had their day in the sun and that a lot of people want to see. I figure we live in a city of, what, four million? All I need to draw is 500 people."

Nearly that many turned out for the L.A. Guns show: a coterie of silicone blonds in open-toe heels and napkin-size skirts; a biker tough sporting a T-shirt that explained in bold lettering "IF YOU CAN READ THIS THE BITCH FELL OFF" on the back; a chunky fellow in a black stovepipe hat, with long curly hair and a black vest, whose cocky carriage resembled that of the real Slash; a big bald dude wearing a "Satan's Child" T-shirt. These were the folks that disappeared from the bar, which served drinks in only plastic cups -- no bottles -- and headed for the stage once Tracii Guns and most of his L.A. band appeared; Muddy, the bass player, was retrieving drinks at the bar, remember. "Whadda you got for me, Houston," cried lead singer Phil Lewis after a song. Everybody roared. It sounded like a cast of thousands, screaming for manna.

And where hungry mouths are begging for food, you know Jeff Thornton will be around with his loaves of stale bread.