Long, long ago -- some say as far back as 1979 -- rock and roll was not about image. There was no MTV, force-feeding style and synthesizing cool for the sole purpose of selling creatine and zit cream. The music? It lived in our speakers. The musicians? They lived in the theater of our minds. And with beer priced at $3.50 a case, there wasn't much room in our minds for a major production.
		But then came along a musical troupe that changed all that, foretelling with eerie accuracy the visceral power of visual rock and roll. This group toured anonymously, visiting small Midwestern towns, plying their craft for little more than free beer and a shot at that cute young thing in the leopard-print leotard.
		Today, there is precious little record of the band's existence. Even their most ardent fans have all but forgotten them. Until now. Read on.