The 'chix' get ready to rock Milton Keynes Bowl.
This noise from Vixen had household pets howling all afternoon.
Suitably depressed after Skid Row, I skulked around backstage, admiring the leather clad rockers doing their thang.
Hairy chests, bouffant hair and studded belts were all the rage, and I felt hopelessly out of place. Heck, I'll be the first to admit to liking some rock, but this was more Rock than I could handle!
It wasn't long before I was being summoned for the next musical treat - Vixen! The Rock Babes! The Wild Metal Chix!
At the all-important backstage photo opportunity they did their best to out-whoop and out-cliché Skid Row before tottering onstage to deliver a caterwauling cacophony of devastating banality.
Kitted out in some nightmarish vision of Californian rock, these air-brushed bimbos of toytown metal delivered the most dire and vacuous racket. It seemed to go on for an eternity.
They were so bad I actually got to feel embarrassed at being on the same stage as them and couldn't wait to retire to a safe distance. But I'm sure they're really lovely people.