Let me preface this post with apologizing for the horrible photo quality. I spent most of the afternoon/evening at the Las Vegas Hilton, and realized that the only camera I had with me was my cellphone camera. Which is marginally better than nothing.

The above photo looks like a bad LSD flashback in which random people turn into serial killers (look at that dude on the left in black and tell me he doesn’t scare the shit out of you. I’m telling you, he has a refrigerator full of body parts.)

Anyway …

After doing some gaming and ogling the ass-baring waitresses at the Tempo bar, I headed over to the Hilton Showroom and then saw “Rock Show Las Vegas“. This act comes to the Hilton every couple of months, but this is the first time I ever made a point to see them. And I have to tell you, this is hands-down, far and away, the best “tribute” or “impersonator” concert I have ever seen in my life.

I don’t even know if I would really call it a “tribute concert”, because it is more like a really ass-kicking band playing well-known covers with eerily flawless precision. Every good band starts out playing covers to build a fan base. Before getting fairly known … Guns N’ Roses used to play nothing but covers at the Troubadour … such as “Jumping Jack Flash” by the Rolling Stones … but even then, they were so much more than a cover band. They were some of the best musicians of their time playing familiar songs to entertain crowds.

And deep down, that’s what Rock Show is. It’s several extraordinarily talented musicians that probably have a library of original material, but simply did not win the record label lottery.

So they do a Vegas act whereby they dress up as members of classic rock bands, and play covers with an accuracy that will have you crying foul. I remarked several times through the show that they had a backing track or were using pre-recorded music altogether.

When the lead guitar player Mark Cole launched into the Brian May solo at the end of Queen’s “We Will Rock You”, there were more than a few “No, he’s not really playing that!” types of comments in the crowd. Same when he pulled out a violin bow to play a Led Zepplin riff on his Gibson, and when he did a full 90 second Eddie Van Halen solo using nothing but hammer-ons on the guitar neck … I wasn’t buying it.

But at the end of the show, the band assured us that there were no tricks involved. No backstage musicians, and no pre-recorded music tracks. I still find it hard to believe. They were that good.

I’m sure they cringe at having to dress the part and ape to the crowd in order to play the gigs, but the silliness (and there is lots of silliness) really does not detract from the music at all. Despite the antics, the music is ultimately the star of the show.

They did two-song covers of Queen, Aerosmith, Led Zepplin, Van Halen, Elton John, Rolling Stones, Ozzy Osbourne, The Who, and Pink Floyd (the did two Pink Floyd’s without costumes at the end) .

Really, really good musicians. Every last one of them. There was no weak link. There were old people standing up and shaking around, as well as younger people head-banging throughout the show, as well as a few people (probably with comped tickets) caught completely off guard and holding their ears not realizing that this was actually a rock and roll concert, and not just completely goofy bullshit.

This was the best band I have never heard of, and this was my favorite “show” I have been to in this town … excluding concerts by original band members. And at $20, it really is a steal.

These guys are too good to play covers in silly get-ups, but you do what pays the bills.

They will be back on August 31st, and I fully plan to be in the audience. I think I will spring for the $40 VIP tickets. Seating is assigned, there is no stage-rushing, and I would like to be closer the next time around.

After Rock Show let out, I headed over to the Shimmer Cabaret to catch a bit of “Sunset Strip“.

This would have been better if I hadn’t just had my ears blown out at Rock Show.

Sunset Strip is a lounge act with scantily clad women singing cover songs by acts like Heart, Destiny’s Child, and other “pop music” covers. The music wasn’t really my personal thing, but they weren’t bad for a bar band. The attractive chicks can actually sing decently, and they all had nice asses which they made sure to flaunt to us several times each song. It’s a good “Las Vegas” lounge act, as it is corny and boner-inspiring, while still providing a modicum of talent.

A lady sitting beside me remarked to her husband “Look at them, It doesn’t really matter if they can sing or not”. The husband didn’t respond. I think he was playing pocket pool, but I didn’t want to verify.

But she was right. If these chicks got on stage and read out of the encyclopedia, I would probably watch for half an hour. Actually, upon further reflection, I really don’t remember how good their music was. I was trying to look up their skirts when they twirled around. What can I tell you. I’m a pervert.

Anyway, I had kind of a buzz kill in the Shimmer Cabaret. While I was taking a few shitty cellphone photos, this waitress ran out of nowhere, grabbed my arm, and flung it down very forcefully almost causing me to shatter my cellphone to the ground. She screamed “No pictures!”. I had seen no sign to that affect. I was pretty pissed. I don’t remember my exact words, but I yelled something to the effect of “All you had to do was ask you fucking cunt!”.

Technically what she did would be considered assault and battery. You cannot just run up and forcibly grab someone without at least giving them the opportunity to voluntarily comply (which of course I would have).

If I invite someone in my house, and they do something I don’t like, I have to ask them to leave voluntarily before I can throw them out. I can’t just come out of the kitchen and crank them over the head with a frying pan because they changed the channel to “The View”. Contrary to popular belief, you cannot do whatever you want on your private property. If that were the case, I would lure every one of my enemies to my private property, grab a Louisville slugger, and use their head for batting practice.

But this was a casino (and the casino is always right), the bitch was some 22-ish year old whore, and I am a rather big dude. Who am I going to complain to without being laughed at?

But I made a mental note of what she looks like, and next time I go to the Shimmer Cabaret, I am going to sit in her section, rack up a large tab, be extremely anal about the way I want the drinks prepared, take up as much of her time as possible, and leave a napkin with “You are a skank!” scrawled upon it in lieu of a tip.

I am not kidding.

I’m always very good to casino workers because they are my friends and neighbors, but that kind of shit is uncalled for.

There are watches, eyeglasses and pens with cameras now.

Properties need to either quit freaking out about cameras, or just close up shop. Everybody has some form of a camera on them in this town. It is 2007, not 1965. Things change. Control over digital images in large venues is a thing of the past. The properties need to deal with it and move on.

You are not going to prevent people from taking pictures. Period. Pictures will be taken. If not by me, then by 20 other people in the same room.

All they really do is piss off the people they happen to randomly harass about it. People take cameras to tourist’s destinations. Casinos are tourist destinations. The best you can hope for is for people to be subtle, but you will never ever ever ever ever ever EVER prevent people from getting a picture of something they want to get a picture of in this decade. Doing so would consume all of your resources, and then who would protect the casinos from those “Oceans 11″ guys?

Stop being dildos about cameras and keep an eye on the people stealing chips, purses, and calling me a nigga.

Other than that, it was a fine night.

After a little more gaming, I hopped on the monorail and headed home.

I liked the Hilton as always, I liked Rock Show much more than I thought I would, the gaming was alright, the singing women were okay, one waitress was a psycho menstruating demon from hell.

Four out of five isn’t bad.

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