Hollywood Then & Now - By Jizzy Pearl.

Jizzy Pearl then - gracing the cover of the mighty Kerrang!

          My hatred for the movie “Rockstar” exists on many levels, the Hollywood glamorized version of a man finding his own identity and shedding his Ripper Owens identity. What bullshit. I’ve been touring for 20 years and I’ve never seen anyone getting their blood changed, I’ve never seen anyone’s dressing room decked out like a Buddhist shrine, there’s no wives limo trailing behind the tour bus…what utter complete nonsense. Rockstar is to music what Pretty Woman is to prostitution. Girls don’t jump on a bus to L.A. from Minnesota so they can end up sucking dick on Hollywood Blvd. Maybe it ended up that way but that was not their intention. They all came out here to be models, or actresses—no schooling, no ability, just a pretty face and the Award for prettiest girl in town.  Dancers turned into exotic dancers, models became nude models. Then stripping. Then Porn. THEN they ended up on Hollywood Blvd. , strung out on crystal meth sucking crackhead dick. Where’s Richard Gere when you need him…

          Girls who were told they were the prettiest girl in Mankato found themselves just another trout in a sea of trout, boobs not big enough, lips not full enough. In need of liposuction, and a tan. You were expected to race around the city all day chasing auditions, how were you supposed to pay the bills? Stripping seemed a logical choice, easy money in your pocket and your days were free. And for a while it worked—until the rejection got to you.  And the late nights of drinking. And soon enough like vultures came the leech musicians, sucking you into the “12-month Plan” –you strip and support us and in a year when I get my record deal we’ll both live in style. I can’t tell you how many times I saw this. Broke dick dudes showing off their brand new Les Paulsor their huge Pro-tool rigs all bought and paid for by their lap dancing dumb-ass chicks. Like a wife putting her man through medical school…sort of.

          After a while the girl just got tired of trying to be an actress, tired of the constant rejection. And usually the coveted bit part came with a price, blow the casting director or blow the agent or blow the gaffer—Death by a thousand cuts. After being leered at and pawed at all day for no money it seemed easier to do it at night for a lot of money. Adios acting career, hello Darkness.   And then if that wasn’t enough, the mooch musician would let his entire band move into your cramped apt., ‘temporarily’. Pretty soon the poor girl is supporting a whole gaggle of leeches. The band needs a new demo Destiny, fork over. The band needs flyers Destiny, fork over. Good old Destiny. Good old cash cow. The 12-month plan turned into 18 months, then 24. At some point they just broke up, he would find a new cash cow or she would have to burn him off her arm like a tick.

          The success of Pretty Woman the movie was the belief that true love conquers all, that in the course of a week a girl could transform herself from dirty Hollywood whore to rich man’s wife. The real Hollywood Blvd. is different, Korean shop owners sweeping the used condoms off the sidewalk from the night before, junkie street kids panhandling and gawking tourists.  If you go to the Rainbow today you’ll find a few struggling musicians, there is no real ‘scene’ anymore. Bands get signed off Facebook now, paying your dues went the way of the Dodo. Any band that jumps in their RV and comes out to Hollywood like Poison did ain’t gonna find no Love, no open arms. No eager strippers willing to pay their bills. You’d be better off staying in Pennsylvania and being the best bar band in (Insert city name) Get a real job. Take a wife. Get your rocks off playing that neighborhood bar on Friday nights. Enjoy the noise and the lights and the glory you grab and appreciate that all things are finite and its OK that you’ll never be Nikki Sixx because Nikki Sixx won the lottery, him and T. Lee and Pearcy and even me, I didn’t match all 6 numbers but I did match 5 so I got to belly up to the trough for a while, I got to partake of the Royal Jelly and the Hammer of the Gods. And every once in a while I still do. I never did get to that Rockstar movie…guess I’ll just save that for next time. 

Jizzy Pearl

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