Cheetah Chrome
Sat/24, Bottom of the Hill

IT'S BEEN A long time since the Dead Boys were young, loud, and snotty; I was eating paste and finger-painting when they were slamming dope and getting head onstage at CBGB. Nowadays original D.B. Cheetah Chrome – the only punk rock guitar hero cool enough to have a mediocre Italian hardcore band named after him – looks like a beefier, butchier Rob Halford (which is saying something, because Rob's pretty butch), but a quick browse through the Internet shows him still living like it's 1977: pulling switchblades, pounding alcohol, and calling upstarts (i.e., people who were in their prime in the early '80s) "wussies." The drummer for Blink 182 may have tattoos on his neck, but one blast from Cheetah's guitar would reduce that whole lightweight, mall, Muzak act to a puddle of foul-smelling ectoplasm. In which case, someone should figure out a way to lure them to this show, and we may never have to hear the god-awful whine of "I Miss You" again. Sweet Justice, JackSaints, and DJ Justin also play. 10 p.m., 1233 17th St., S.F. $10. (415) 621-4455. (Duncan Scott Davidson)