Hair bands, Vegas a perfect fit

From hair to eternity, it's a scene that'll never die.

At least not in Las Vegas.

Though radio programmers long have turned their noses up at them like someone who has passed gas in a confined space, and their records don't sell much any more, the glam rock stars of yesterday are the casino showroom fillers of today.

These days, their bangs aren't quite as big and neither are their crowds, but they still do well here.

Just look at the lineup for the various Station Casinos properties over the next few months.

Former "Hit Parader" fodder such as Skid Row, Great White, the BulletBoys, Steelheart, Dokken, Britney Fox, White Lion, Bang Tango, Faster Pussycat, Pretty Boy Floyd and others are all scheduled for venues such as The Chrome Showroom and Club Madrid.

At Green Valley Ranch, tongue-in-cheek pop metal tribute act Steel Panther packs them in every Friday night at Ovation.

"For the past couple of years, really, we've found that these bands are doing really well for us. And once the people arrive on the property it's also a good demographic to have in a casino," says Judy Alberti, vice president of entertainment at Station Casinos.

Plus, acts of that ilk always have put a premium on tag-wagging showmanship, another thing that makes them well-suited for Vegas.

"You can go to a club and duplicate the hip-hop or the contemporary dance experience," Alberti says, "but you can't really duplicate the live music experience of an '80s rock band in a club. That's my personal opinion as to why it might be working so well."

And it's not confined to Stations properties.

The Sin City Sinners, which feature former Faster Pussycat guitarist Brent Muscat among others, draw solid crowds to the Divebar and the Hard Rock's Wasted Space on a weekly basis.

Of course, it's not so hard to figure out why the libidinal, pants-around-the-ankles hair metal set would still be big in a town like Vegas, where revelers rejoice and livers weep.

Mainly, they define decadence.

During the '90s, rock became much more dour and sobering, less fun and more serious, a six-pack of O'Douls in place of a kegger of Budweiser.

In other words, it was the complete opposite of the party-hard dudes they replaced on the top of the charts.

For the most part, '80s rockers celebrated excess like a bunch of Gordon Geckos in spandex.

And really, isn't that what Vegas is all about?

Contact reporter Jason Bracelin at jbracelin@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0476.