They were born standin’ up and mouthin’ off. They were loud, proud and out of tune. A ‘36 Berlin brothel through a Gibson Firebird and a screamin’ Selmer amp. Sir Nurembourg Raleigh in the Court of Little Queenie. They brushed their teeth with Decadent, they were pre Preservation Kink and Prettier Things and Smack Stones, and Shangri La’s, and Robert Johnson with the cuckold’s bottle of poison liquor right up to his lips. They were stack heels and snake hips cruisin’ the Faust lane heading for the off-ramp at 49th and Oblivion.