The 5 Categories of Rock Stars

Being a star can be a lonely, hanger-on filled existence of mediocrity. I played a big venue for thousands of people, once, and I realized then that it’s the fans who are having a very glamourous night, out with their friends to maybe have dinner, drinks, and hanging out in pretty room with a famous band playing (we were the openers). Backstage it’s a different story; waiting around with tense musicians and surly stage staff, eating bad food served on folding tables with plastic cutlery, lit by fluorescent light under a low ceiling.

A room full of thousands of cheering fans can’t actually touch the performer, and doesn’t tell them adorable lame jokes or have a heart-melting crooked smile like friends or mates do. It doesn’t feel like a soft hug up there.

So many musicians, at some point or other, let rip their wild side and embark on true, sordid adventures with groupies who may love the music, or the life they’ve chosen for themselves, or neither. The groupies are looking for something backstage, and the worn-out, lonely, horny rock star is likely to find an NSA taste of sleaze better than nothing.


Here are five ways rockers might get themselves off:


This performer is looking for real connections, you can hear it in his song lyrics: “Fool me baby for the rest of my life and I’ll be happy as a broken man can be” type shit. And when he finds roots don’t spontaneously sprout in the confines of antiseptic hotel rooms, the dozy business class lounge, or backstage surrounded by wannabes and has-beens, he finds himself taking the nearest young thing whose sad eyes cry “damage me” into a dressing room and eats her ass for a while, then finishes on her face and leaves.

Yes, he might try to have a normal relationship with a porcelain-skinned idol twelve years younger than him, but when she shows herself utterly incapable of containing the volatile humanity of this feral creature, he ends up with a chartable song that’s about the broken man he is, rather than written by the broken man he is.

Hard Copy: “Groupies”


Along comes the opportunity of a lifetime; instead of rushed stressful flights surrounded by only staff, the performer is invited on a relaxing tour by train with other performers like him! Long train rides give him lots of time to meet and connect with these people who are on his level in neutral territory that feels like vacation. But this guy is too serious! Too smart for the others, to deep to break the ego down, so hires hookers on his way out of each town to bang with on the train, and leaves them in the next town with a return ticket.

When you’re so unmoored that there doesn’t seem to be a soul you feel you can trust around, a hooker is definitely someone you can trust, only more so with two. For sure it feels worth it, even if he hides it.

Lestat Groupies Will Crawl


A sitcom is a wonderful place to work if you’re looking for a stable family — you spend all day pretending to be one. When the show’s cancelled and you’re suddenly on tour with the Beach Boys in remote Kenora Ontario playing backup guitar, there are ways of dealing with the absence of virtual kin.

One is to invite a groupie back to your hotel room covered with rose petals and candles, massage her for a long time, eat her out for longer, and just generally treat her like a wife you’re still crazy about after all these years. It feels awkward for both because she’s not, but uh… haaave mercy.

Groupies, Part 1


Celebrity couples have it rough. They share the pain, but they also must have to share a bit in the outsider’s fan-gaze on their partner which is weird. It’s a natural enough way of defending oneself to take up with another guitar star man, make it really obvious to everyone around, and have them prove they love your man more, not blabbing to him cause they don’t want to break his little rocker heart. Singing “someday you will ache like I ache” sums up misery’s longing love for company, which is probably the reason celebrities hook up with each other in the first place.

Groupies, Part 6


Starships were meant to fly. If a singer is gonna rocket around the globe non-stop on blissed-out techno and glitter, there is a correct way to do it. First, she makes a habit of signing ladies tits after the show. She’s sweet to them all, and when she fancies one and the vibe really feels mutual, she gets her boy to invite the lady into the back area which is kept very comfortable and chill. She chats her up a lot, gets to know her, and if it’s still good invites her to continue the conversation back at the hotel. When they arrive, she just totally lets herself go, lounging around naked and waiting until the lady is ready. They make each other come about a dozen times each, starting appropriately with digital bangin, moving on to a grind that makes them both feel faint, performing mutual mouth-to resusscitation, and finishing it off with something kinky enough to make it feel really special, like a strapon. Breakfast is sweet, personal cell number given, and a beautiul thing blossoms. And it goes on happening as often, and lasting as long, as it can.

Rockers, groupies, you’re not fated to waking up to an empty bed, cold, gruff, hungover goodbyes, and weird looks from your friends when you perform the last act of the hookup, the telling of it. Do like this last one and get close to each other, wait for the real thing, and call out each other’s government’s for chrissakes! If you have to be “Penny Lane“ or whatever, you know how the movie ends; you’re doing it wrong and you get sold for a case of beer.

Penny Lane


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