In a different world, just a hairpin turn away from ours, Rock City Angels would need no introduction. After all, they were a five-man gang of drug-abusing womanisers from Los Angeles, dressed in black leather and cowboy boots, with a hot new sound that mixed sleazy, punky glamour with tough, bluesy, American teenage rock’n’roll.
They had looks, hooks, bad habits, a wildly self-destructive lead singer, and a record contract worth several million dollars. Appetite for destruction? Hell, these boys were done with destruction by noon and well on their way to oblivion by dinner.
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