Hi Lucy Boy it has been a while since I seen the gang. I now reside in Bisbee, Arizona. I just heard of the renounion. Please contact me at my email address
By Kathleen Vanesian
By Amy Silverman
By Robrt L. Pela
By Jim Louvau
By Kathleen Vanesian
By Benjamin Leatherman
By New Times
By Becky Bartkowski
NT: Karen Finley. Performance art.
LaMode: Right. I was a performance artist. I would get on the stage and wear a dress with calves' liver pinned all over it. I'd wear a tiny Girl Scout uniform up to my ass, and have blue hair and just stand there and . . . just be an exhibitionist. I would stand there in these thrift-store get-ups and just be really dramatic.
NT: But backstage you were a square.
LaMode: I remember getting ready for Killer Pussy shows and listening to old Frank Sinatra records in my dressing room. And then I'd go out onstage in my little nurse's outfit and sing "Teenage Enema Nurses" to a bunch of drunk assholes. And they thought I was Lucy LaMode.
NT: I met you back then at a party, and you were just sitting there sipping a Coke and talking about fashion magazines in a little voice.
LaMode: Everyone who saw the band thought I was drunk, and a whore. She was nothing like who I really was. But you know, if you're in a band called Killer Pussy, and you get up there and sing punk songs in these ridiculous costumes, people think you're a trampy whore who has a porno site. I'm not like that at all. I had my first beer at age 26.
NT: Do the other PTA moms know you were once Lucy LaMode?
LaMode: No way! I befriended this one woman whose son goes to my school, and I walked into her salon to get my hair cut, and this gay guy who worked the front counter started screaming. "Oh my God, you're Lucy LaMode!" I said, "Okay, it's me, but don't TELL anyone!" The bitch blew my cover!
NT: So do your kids know their mom used to be a punk goddess?
LaMode: My older son knows. He's seen my records. He thinks . . . he doesn't get it. He still thinks I'm a square. He tries to tell people I sang in a punk band, but I threaten him to keep his mouth shut. I have to live in my house in Paradise Valley, and people think . . . they judge you, you know what I'm saying? I'm a really good mother, and I really enjoy it. Lucy LaMode is part of who I am; I have no regrets. I wouldn't trade any of it. I met my husband here, at the Mason Jar. We were taking pictures of the band and he came up and asked me what time it was. The next night he was back, and we've been together ever since. I'm not embarrassed to talk about that part of my life, I just don't want to talk about it with old farty people.
NT: What would it take to get you back into your teeny nurse's uniform?
LaMode: I wore it about three years ago to a Halloween party. My husband dressed up like a doctor, and I walked around offering the guests a sponge bath. Ha ha. But you probably couldn't get me back up onstage as Lucy LaMode, if that's what you're asking. I mean, why? My passion is acting, taking my kids to art museums.
NT: Twenty years ago, when you were up on that stage screaming, and I was in the audience cheering you on, we would have thought of what we're doing today as selling out.
LaMode: Well, we were 20 years old. And we were wrong! No, it's just, no matter what I was doing back then, I was always responsible. I was never a druggy, never a drunk. I got married, had a kid, stepped up to the plate as a wife and a mom the same way I stepped up when I was in a punk band. This is just a different role. A better one. Now let's get out of here. That band is really loud and they suck.