By Daniel Kohn
By Imade Nibokun
By Arrissia Owen
By Lilledeshan Bose
By Sarah Bennett
By Adam Lovinus
By Jena Ardell
By Nate Jackson
Just look at them: awash in tattoos, stuffed into regulation leather-rawk pants, and sporting piles of color-treated locks. They look like refugees from LA's illustrious hair-metal days, but their roots actually lie in the early '90s, alternative hardcore/punk scene—back when "alternative" referred to that which was freaky, weird and unmarketable, not Art Alexakis in a Gap ad.
Bianca, Sharon and Blare (drummer Judy once played in Bobsled) used to be in the tastefully monikered Butt Trumpet, whose legendary crassness made them a target of the evil Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC). They sang about anal sex. They sang about dead dogs. They sang about shooting hippies. They sang about crashing funeral homes (see Butt Trumpet's EMI release, Primitive Enema, for reference). They sang the line, "You can eat the corn out of my shit."
Needless to say, you can imagine the void left in the music industry when Butt Trumpet called it quits amid differences with their label. But chin up, sad clown—they're back! All hail the second coming of Butt Trumpet!
"I don't want conversation/I just want penis penetration/I don't want you to be mine/I just want to 69/Shut up and fuck!" Bianca shouts on the aptly titled "Shut Up and Fuck" from their upcoming Are You Man Enough? full-length album. This time around, though, the rockers don't waste time with all that poop talk. For Betty Blowtorch, it's all sex all the time. They even enlisted the unparalleled rapping talents of Vanilla Ice, whom they met while recording and who boasts about the size of his . . . you know . . . on the amusingly disturbing "Size Queen."
Betty Blowtorch aren't ones for subtlety, but that's part of their shtick. And it's working for them, too. Our twisted-sister paper LA Weekly named them the Best Punk/Hardcore Band of 2000. They'll soon be making their big-screen debut as themselves in the film Bubble Boy, filling in for Ozzy Osbourne, who, for some reason, couldn't do it.
But back to this Vanilla Ice thing. True confession: I've been skipping past the Vanilla Ice-blessed track because I've developed sudden Vanilla Ice-o-phobia. The thought of listening to Ice rap about his unit makes me want to puke. It kind of makes me want to cry, too. For the love of God, people! I'm just as much for freedom of speech as the next person, but when Vanilla Ice uses the words "cream," "waterfall" and "10 inches" in the same sentence? Well, that's where I draw the line. Where's your PMRC now?Betty Blowtorch perform with Deadbolt and Shot to Hell at the Lava Lounge, 3800 E. Pacific Coast Hwy., Long Beach, (562) 597-6171. Sat. Call for time and cover. 21+.