Cheyenne Doll
Whisky a Go-Go
Hollywood, CA
Jan 27, 2009
By Lucky
(SugarBuzz Hollywood)
SugarBuzz Magazine
I love going to Hollywood on the off nights, you know, when the Strip free flows, not choked up with weekend warriors and posers. The atmosphere on nights as these is more like the Hollywood that I grew up in. One filled with runaways, prostitutes, hustlers, street rockers, putrid punkers and the ever present danger. Back when there were still Pussy Kat Theatres, Oki Dogs and all–night naked shows. Back when the Egyptian Theater was in ruins and housed society’s outcasts. Back when you could get your ass kicked for any jaundra you may emanate. Back when inspiration came in droves.
Nights as these make my rock blood boil and my mind run wild with a yearning to visit old haunts and the scenes of my crimes, so when I got a message that Cheyenne Doll was requesting my presence at an early Tuesday night slot at The Whisky a Go-Go, I, well, jumped at the chance.
Cheyenne Doll hails from Marseille, France and in a quest to secure some label interest, climbed aboard a big old airliner, destination La La Land. While wondering where dreams are made of, Mel (lead singer of Cheyenne Doll, who has taken the persona of Cheyenne and therefore shall be referred to as such throughout the rest of this review), made an acquaintance or two in the upstairs office at The Whisky a Go-Go and they expressed interest in having Mel, I mean, Cheyenne grace their legendary stage.
One problem, the rest of her band was back in France. But do you think that would stop Cheyenne, hell no, she just found a group of loose cannon musicians, booked three rehearsals , and did a gig that may just go down in the annals of the historic Whisky archives. Absolutely amazing.
Pulling past the club I was thrilled to see a group of eager beavers lined up down the strip. Seems word has gotten around. Anticipated heightened, I ditched the vehicle in the 9000 Building and hoofed it pass The Rainbow, The Roxy, The Cat Club, Duke’s and finally to the Whisky. (What an incredible and historic block, I bet all you Shusters have infamous memories from one or more of these pit stops.)
After a near strip search at the front door, I made it in the club just as Cheyenne Doll hit the stage and took off running with “Jet Lag”. A super power punch of saturation. Let’s go, alright indeed. An entice to gay Paree to remedy lonely, sightseeing will be second.
Cheyenne’s husky booming vocal is dead on right as the band seems seasoned beyond the allotted. When the band kicked into the Da, Da, Da Da’s, Cheyenne jerked and I went frantic, snapping shots and singing along.
Waxing poetic, Cheyenne Doll set the stage for “Flo’s House”, a dark yet up-beat vaudevillian tempo sway and sashay. Cheyenne’s stage presence and individualist sonic captivated the crowd and drew deep from the emotional well. Cheyenne’s bandmates seemed enthralled with the almost surreal setting. I liked the way the two guitarists (sorry, didn’t catch your names) made extensive eye contact, making sure all was on the same page. Slick.
Cheyenne Doll then proceeded to hypnotize and mesmerize the legions of newly converted minions with the empowering “Blood on My Hands”. Like a heart beating in the rain of a lonely night, the building yearn culminates with a primal scream. Awesome guitar play on words and rhythm while bottom end bubbled over like hot lava. Some say it is all in the presentation, but inner quality certainly counts in my book and this was tops in both categories .
Then it happened, we all fell in love, be it with Cheyenne, life, each other, or the world outside, when the rush of security, safety, warmth and ease swept through our vains and over our bodies via “Queen’s Arms”. Bring you to tears chorus, this song conquers your soul and moves you to no end. Cheyenne was gracious enough to give me a Cheyenne Doll CD after the show and I have listened to this song over and over and over again. I’ve been know to be obsessive.
Ending the five song, way to fucking short set was the ultra kick ass “Fucking Tragedy”, a barbed tongue in cheek paybacks a bitch stab in the heart. A relentless spot on in the pocket jam that made you want to scream, shout and dance the night away. Cheyenne Doll exuded ultra attitude and over the top confidence, leaving us all wanting more, but also feeling completely satisfied. You know how it feels when you leave a kick ass show absolutely pumped, this was that.
They say the devil makes work for idle hands, and hell it was way too early to head back home, so I hoofed it back up the street to hang out at The Bow for a tad. To my surprise as I rounded The Roxy there was my old mate Jeff looking quite stunned to see me. Been a long time my brother. Let’s see what trouble is a foot. Just like old times.