1987.07.17 - L.A. Weekly - L.A. Dee Da On The Streets [Slash incident mention]

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We pussyfooted over to Cathouse for an Elektra Records-hosted record-release party for Faster Pussycat, where it was like the (very) early days of The Starwood: The elite hung out on the balcony (or should we say catwalk?) and gazed down on the masses — who had a much better view of the band from down on the floor. Is it true that Cathouse’s Riki Rachtman was a bit, shall we say, catty about just who he allowed on the VIP list? Maybe he’s upset about that wired jaw of his (courtesy of some male bonding ... we mean rough-housing, with Guns ’n’ Roses’ Slash). In any case, the elite included members of Dio and Quiet Riot; Michael Steele, who had Black ’n’ Blue’s Patrick in tow; the man who signed the ’Cats, Peter Philbin; Gene Simmons with former supermodel girlfriend Shannon Tweed; and the woman behind Taime and designer of the new Lame Flames costumes, Heidi Richman, who is big sister to the ubiquitous Josh and a fashion designer in her own right. (She’s just about to open her own shop on Ventura Boulevard.) Locals included hordes of band boys from Jetboy, Funhouse (who were just signed by Poison’s ex-manager Chris Hazard), Candy, and Jason Mann of El Grupo Sexo (who are working on their second album with producer Bob Brown — whose production credits include Alice Cooper — for Dr. Dream Records). Much lite beer was consumed — an obvious bow to the dictates of so much Spandex — along with those Peach Melba rum things we always see advertised but had never actually seen anyone drink until last Tuesday. (What this says about either this particular crowd’s taste or ours is open to interpretation.) As for the Pussies demselves, they were on full purr, and the deities on the VIP Olympus were surprisingly no less attentive than the paying customers — especially at the end of the set, when manager Warren Etner’s birthday was celebrated with a stripper and some (cheese-?) cake. Unfortunately, the evening didn’t go particularly well for bassist Eric Stacy, who ended up in the clink — something to do with the cops searching his car after two giggling groupies showed up and refused to leave, thereby turning up an old traffic warrant on the Pussycats’ bass-cat. Poor little puddytat was rescued by the fast-acting management team.