If you’ve made it as far as this blog, and/or know the title reference, you’ve probably guessed my affinity for the late 1980s and early 1990s hair bands. That was MY era.   I loved it.  Long-haired men, too much eyeliner, gallons of Aquanet, a never-ending party on the Sunset Strip, and every male aged 14 - 25 had an overly optimistic dream of being a ROCK GOD.  Penelope Spheeris might have tried to warn us off the dream by showing us Chris Holmes, wasted, in a pool, and pouring ridiculous amounts of vodka on himself while his mother watched, but it wasn’t enough to keep millions of teenagers with dreams of arena tours away from Los Angeles. I loved it. I think Michael Wagener probably still has 10% of all of my babysitting money, and the rest is with Atlantic Records.

But by the time I started going to L.A. regularly in the early 2000s, the scene was long gone. I didn’t even make it in time for the death rattle. It just didn’t exist. The long haired rocker boy with his fifth of Jack that I dreamed of saving from himself and managing his wild, star-studded career had been replaced by shaved heads, hip-hop rhythms, and club tours instead of the sheds and arenas of the 1990s. It didn’t look anything like my dream. And suddenly, when Winger, Skid Row, or Mr. Big rolled up on my iPod at parties, I was subjected to rolling eyes and friends diving to turn off the music.

After spending my years in Rock and Roll and subsequently venue management, I’m happy to have landed my dream career in commercial theatre. It’s a different dream than I imagined, but in the best twist of events I could have ever asked for, my L.A. rock scene has come to me in New York. Rock of Ages, a hilarious yet honest tribute to the over-the-top, glorious stupidity and never-ending fun of the 1980s rock scene is parked at the Brooks Atkinson just two Avenues over from me, right on 47th Street.

It’s difficult to put into words the incredible joy this show is bringing sold out audiences every single night. It’s like watching a two-hour-and-fifteen-minute version of a rock ballad video from the late 1980s with every element of the era portrayed perfectly. There’s spandex. There’s big hair. There are a lot of short skirts, strippers, screaming guitars and wailing vocals. There’s a tawdry rock-club-bathroom fling. And best of all, there are Bartles & James, “nothing but Red 40 in a bottle” wine coolers. It’s everything I wanted L.A. to be! And it’s right down the street from my Midtown Manhattan apartment!

Run, do not walk, to see this show. Not only is it the great music of the era - Styx, REO Speedwagon, Bon Jovi, Mr. Big, Extreme, Warrant, Twisted Sister, Damn Yankees, Night Ranger, Poison, Pat Benetar to name only some - but the musical lines are interwoven in a way that defies jukebox musical cliches. The dialogue is wrapped in the appropriate verses of each song to fit what the characters are saying - no more, no less. This is a musical that could have gone horrifically wrong…but it’s perfect. It’s a show that has only an inch of play to avoid disaster. It’s a high-wire act - a little too much of anything could ruin the vibe, make it unbearably cheesy or less than the all out fun it should be, yet it rides the tight rope beautifully night after night bringing audiences, screaming, singing, and dancing, to their feet.

Ticket discounts are hard to come by because the show is now regularly selling out. IT IS WORTH THE FULL PRICED TICKET! Take the time to see this one with the current cast.

It’s a stunning cast overall. Constantine Maroulis, Tony-nominated for his role of Drew, is a delight to watch and plays the character well. Mitchell Jarvis is nearly Jack Black live-on-stage, performing “Lonnie” with great aplomb. I’ve seen both Amy Spanger and Savannah Wise play Sherrie, and both handled the role beautifully.  (Amy Spanger is no longer with the show.)

But I want to take a moment for a shout out to two of the less publicized but utterly brilliant cast members. James Carpinello plays Stacee Jaxx, the much-hated lead singer of the soon-to-be-defunct band Arsenal. He has the exact attitude and moves of the era and a voice that could blow out the back wall. You literally cannot take your eyes off him when he’s on stage. Adam Dannheisser is Dennis, the club owner about to lose his business on the Sunset Strip. He is dead on with every club owner I’ve ever known - down to earth, funny, nurturing of new talent and the next generation, and marginally over it. Both are roles that could go desperately wrong if cast incorrectly or pushed too far in any direction, but as credit to both of these outstanding actors and their director, Kristin Hanggi, they are practically perfect.

There may not be discounts. You might have to stand. But you will be ROCKED!

And if you don’t already own the cast recording, go get it!