Enthused by pro wrestling? Not only do the Skanks sing about it ("Cage!!! Match!!! Barbed Wire!!! Ring Set!!! On Fire!!! Sleeper!!! Hold!!! Will Choke You!!! No!!! Air!!! You turn blue!!!" runs a sample off the creatively titled "Championship Wrestling"), but their burly, shirtless (natch) guitarist Johnny T even looks like one -- with his tight leopard-skin pants, Pinball Wizard specs and toy wizard hat, you'd have to call him Glammin' Slammin' Merlin or some such. (And need it be mentioned that his chest of drawers must have one drawer dedicated to codpieces and codpieces alone?)
Are you an out-and-out satanist, or just a little Satan-curious? Bassist Justin Hell is your Beelzebub of the bottom end. Hell's version of Lucifer has more than a little in common with He-Man nemesis Skeletor -- he's all spikes and skulls and he likes to twirl a morning star mace -- except his skin is painted Ragú red. Imagine an Oakland Raider fan who passed out in a tanning bed and you get the idea.
Titillated by deranged women of questionable virtue and certain poor hygiene? Then you'll love drummer Miss Pain, a pallid blond with eyeliner caked on so thick it's less heroin-chic than raccoon-chic. According to a friend of the band, Pain got the job "because of the way she holds the stick and delivers rim shots." (Huh-huh. He said rim. Cue Beavis snicker...)
Are you a fan of moronic lyrics and three-chord guitar solos? Then "Rock and Roll Is a Dirty Business," the title track off their latest album, could become your life. "Give me head until I'm dead," croaks Johnny T, "'cause rock and roll is a dirty business." You know, you're right, Mr. T. Especially if your band spends more time sifting through bargains in the medieval weapon aisle at Party City than it does writing songs and rehearsing.
