A while back, I found myself in my hallway, sheltered by walls on all sides. I was doing something I hoped no one would see. Well into my middle age, head down with a concerned look on my face, I was playing air guitar. It stuck me as odd, to feel embarrassed about it. After all, I only date ladies who are air guitarists. Which reminds me: before I die, I will date a girl who plays air guitar to Suzi Quatro.
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Suzi Quatro was from Detroit, but found fame in the UK at the peak of the Glam years. That was a weird period over there. You could transverse, from art farts Roxy Music, through Bowie, elbow T-Rex out of the way, have a beer with Mott the Hoople and then get after-hours-stupid with Slade. Shit, I just described a night at the Pink Panther. Which is totally apropos.
NOTE: Not "rough and notorious", more like "drunk and horny"
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Pink Panther was a bar that I used to frequent and DJ'd at on a fairly regular basis. I ususally DJ'd with a partner, which made it more like a private record party (that is, with free beer and a captive audience). I had a bunch of partners during the Panther's heyday, but most often it would be my friend, Julie D.
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Julie was a perfect DJ parner, she knew music (we met when she was working at a record store) and loved to mix it up as much as I did, This led to some wacky sets, and it wasn't unusual to play Can, George Jones, Alice Cooper and X-Ray Spex in the same night. "48 Crash" by Suzi Quatro was one of the many songs played with regularity (often followed by Sweet's "Hellraiser", or one of Slade's foot-stompers).
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Taken out of a glam context, these types of songs were perfect what-the-fuck segues and almost always stoked a few people who'd forgotten about them (this was way past the glam era). These days, whenever I hear classic glam it takes me back to the Panther, and the beer soaked nights spinning with my pal Julie. So, this one is for Julie.
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Julie D's old bands: Drip Tank at MySpace, Chinchilla at MySpace