'THIS IS THE part where I ask a random boy in the audience for a date," Brontez announced midway through Panty Raid!'s opening set for Imperial Teen late last month. Sporting too-tiny Spider-Man undies and creepy cop sunglasses, the perpetually underdressed (when dressed at all) guitarist scanned the room for signs of new blood and seemed slightly disheartened by what he saw. After all, with two other shit-hot queer rock shows happening simultaneously – Erase Errata at El Rio and the Aislers Set and the Quails at Bottom of the Hill – the pickings were a little slim as Panty Raid!'s primary fan base (and Brontez's dating pool) was largely scattered throughout the city.

The result was a show by a band whose quirky punk sensibility was largely lost on many of Imperial Teen's more reserved, older fans.

Taking the stage at the inappropriately early hour of 9:15 p.m., the East Bay fun-punk group, which includes Brontez, vocalist Seth (a.k.a. Gravy Train!!!!'s Hunx), drummer Janelle Benet Ramsey, and hottie-in-hot-pants Ian on bass, appeared beneath a giant pair of manderwear emblazoned with the band's name. As sloppy and satisfying as a hurried, back-alley lip lock, they launched into a 15-minute set that included the real-life confessional "I Am Nasty," "Hot 'n' Horny," "By Devotion," and the closing "Salt Those Fries," which found Seth's food obsession – not to mention his excellently pervy sense of humor and fondness for exclamation points rivaled only by Shania Twain's – carry over from Gravy Train!!!!'s to Panty Raid!'s repertoire.

That's where any similarities between the bands end, however. Almost too fast to dance to, the foursome's speedy punk-pogo is Green Day gone gay – or Green Day gone great, if you prefer Seth's nasal, man-child shouts to Billie Joe's snot-rocket snarls. Even that comparison isn't exactly apt, though, as Panty Raid! recall those Bay Area basket cases primarily in spirit, not sound. And while it seems that all too many NoCal punks have tried to start a band like this, few hammer out such a straightforward, occasionally Redd Kross-reminiscent racket as humorously and unpretentiously as Panty Raid!, especially live.

With Ian and Brontez on either side, Seth, sporting black, jocko-homo eye makeup and a shirt with a photo of a horse-hung hunk taped to it, commandeered the proceedings with every overblown ounce of stage presence that David Lee Roth still deludedly thinks he has. While parading through the crowd and humping anything that did or didn't move – bandmates, fans, poles, whatever – he also gave new meaning to the term audience participation by shoving innocent bystanders' faces into his crotch.

Still, his refreshingly fun and playful stage antics were more subdued and less enthusiastically received than at smaller, more ramshackle shows. Known for calling out this city's gay-for-pay faux fags, butt-bumping oblivious security guards, and cracking homo-hilarious jokes (Q: "What do gay horses eat?" A: "Heeeeeey!"), Seth's slightly less-crazed performance wasn't so much the cause as the result of a lackluster audience that wasn't drunk, horny, or game enough to feed off the band's juvenile tomfoolery. Simply put, Panty Raid!'s set just didn't translate beyond the few dozen fans scattered up front.