AM or Bust
"Kreme, we've gotta check out Axis/Radius this Thursday," the Jettster insists as I'm finishing off a plate of chocolate-chip brownies in my office. "DJ AM's gonna be there and he's like the hottest DJ on the planet right now."
"Yeah, he's a big name," I reply, brownie crumbs spilling. "But since when are you an aficionado of the wheels of steel? The only thing you usually care about is getting me to pick up the bar tab."
"Don't you know? DJ AM is Nicole Richie's fiancé, and she's so fine I'd drink her bathwater," relates Jett, all gooey-eyed. "She's bound to be there. Come to think of it, DJ AM's pretty cute too."
"Look, we're not going to Axis/Radius just so you can hit on DJ AM and Nicole Richie," I frown. "On the other hand, it does sound like a good event for us to cover. Okay, we'll go. But you have to promise not to molest the celebrities."
"Only if they want to be molested," she replies, grinning.
As most everyone knows, Axis/Radius is this big behemoth of a club, actually two clubs in one, which sits on East Indian Plaza in Scottsdale, across the street from Suede, and around the corner from Myst. Les and Diane Corieri are the Emperor and Empress of this nightlife empire, and powerhouse AZ marketing/promotions company CEG (Creative Entertainment Group) is responsible for many of the events that go down at Axis/Radius and Myst. Why am I telling you all this? Because DJ AM was flying in from L.A. on the 6th to play CEG's five-year anniversary party at Axis/Radius. And that put the night on our radar screen.
We arrive between 10:30 and 11 p.m., and of course, the spot's thicker than a swimming pool of Skippy, with tons of fly folk ready to party to the sounds of Adam Michael Goldstein (Philly-bred DJ AM's birth name). Outside we run into Aaron Seaford, half of the CEG team -- the other half being his biz partner Steve LeVine.
"We just had a very successful event last night with Tommy Lee and DJ Aero at Myst," Seaford relates. "Actually, Tommy's still around. I think he's across the street at Suede right now."
"What are we waitin' for?" asks the J-unit. "This is my chance to see if reality matches what I saw on that video he did with Pam!"
Before I know it, Jett's scootin' across the road like a woman on a mission, and I'm right behind her. The scene at Suede is kinda lame. Tommy Lee's on Suede's patio, and they've got a velvet rope encircling him, his huge, bald bodyguard, and a couple of others. On the other side of the rope are a gaggle of peroxide pussycats, trying to rub up on Lee. Feeding time at the zoo, right? Personally, I wasn't feelin' the Crüe back when they were popular, much less now. But I have to admit, the TV show Tommy Lee Goes to College is effin' funny. Sort of like watching a reality-series version of that flick Old School.
Anyway, as soon as we're near the geezer rocker, Jett reaches for his hand between a gap in the wenches, but TL's musclebound babysitter -- who reminds me of Ving Rhames in Pulp Fiction -- pulls her wrist aside.
"No grabbing," he tells the Jettster.
"Maybe if you get a boob job and dye your hair," I whisper in Jett's ear. "Then you might have a chance. He's known for liking a certain type."
"He smiled at me," the J-girl mumbles, disappointed. "I'm sure he'd like to party with me if it wasn't for that big dumb bodyguard."
"Maybe there are some other stars you can get with at Axis/Radius," I state, as we blow off Tommy Boy and head back to A/R. "I hear they've got Uncle Fester from The Addams Family in there. He's about Tommy's age."
"Very funny, Kreme -- not!" she snaps.
DJ AM is already tearing up the decks on the Radius side of the club, but we need a drink, and the bars there look three or four deep. So we perambulate to the Axis side and head upstairs. At the bar, we score some vodka-cranberries and strike up a confab with this studly cat Justin, who hails from Sydney, Australia. Seems he's an exchange student at San Francisco State, and came down to Scottsdale for a visit to hook up with a pal of his, who happens to be an Axis/Radius bartender.
"How does Scottsdale compare to Sydney, mate?" I inquire, doing my best Steve Irwin impersonation.
"It compares very well," he smiles. "It's a real party town. I've been here a week, and I love it."
"So tell me, do the chicks dig the accent?" I inquire.
"They really do," Justin answers. "It's like you get 10 bonus points just for being Australian."
"Wow, you have washboard abs," the Jettster coos. "Can we see?"
Justin obliges us by pulling up his shirt to reveal a perfectly toned belly and a brand new piercing, which he just got this a.m. after a night of boozy revelry.
"I woke up this morning, still a little drunk, and decided it'd be a good idea to get my belly button pierced," he relates. "I've been flashing it a bit tonight."
We thank Justin for the free show and ease over across to the lounge area in front of the bar. On a catwalk before us are white-booted go-go dancers workin' it to that new Black Eyed Peas joint "My Humps." The one where that babe Fergie's singing "My lovely lady lumps/In the back and in the front." Of course, that track gets all the shorties shakin' it, including this trio of honeys, Adriaana, Cathy, and Kat. They're a frisky lot, so we snap a group shot of them wearing the new Inferno wife-beaters we've been giving out. Then we chat with cute Kat.
"You gals seen any celebs tonight?" queries the Jettster.
"We saw Tommy Lee from far away," she says. "Over on the other side -- at Radius, where DJ AM's spinning."
"Really? We saw him at Suede earlier," Jett relates. "What did you think?"
"Eh," she shrugs. "He's kinda old and skinny. A lot skinnier than I thought he would look."
"You mean, you don't think he's hot?!" cries the J-unit, in horror.
"No, I don't," Kat states emphatically. "I'm not into old, skinny, tattooed guys."
"What about young, fat and horny guys?" I ask, hopefully. "Relative to Tommy, of course."
"Right now, I'm studying to be a pilot, so my textbook is my boyfriend," she says, letting me down easy. "But honestly, the guys I've dated, they all look totally different."
Jett's determined to throw herself at Tommy Lee one more time before the night's out, so we head over to the Radius side of things via this glassed-in catwalk that connects Axis to Radius. On our way over we cross paths with dimes JesLeigh and Evonne. It's too tight up in the spot to really conversate, but let's just say that the copper-toned JesLeigh, a model by trade, has on an outfit that makes her look like she's wearin' her birthday suit and little else. I thought Jett's eyeballs were gonna pop out and rocket across the hall.
It's jammed over at Radius, and Tommy's no longer in sight, though apparently he'd been in Radius' "skybox" earlier. DJ AM's got the joint bumpin', and I'm intrigued to hear a lot of classic rock in his set, like Led Zeppelin, Journey, Nirvana, even Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" mixed in with 21st-century tracks, like OutKast's "Hey Ya" and Gwen Stefani's "Holla Back Girl." Upstairs is too much of a crush, so we head downstairs to the DJ rise in front of the dance floor where AM is spinning. Alas, no Nicole Richie. We soon discover from the CEG crew that she never made it out. Jett's heartbroken, and heads outside for a smoke while I hang back and shoot the breeze with this goateed dude who's manipulating three orange-size see-through spheres in one hand. His name's Ben, and he lives right down the street. Says he had no idea anything was going on tonight and had no idea Tommy Lee was in the building.
"Ben, what the hell are you doing with that shit in your hand?"
"It's called contact juggling," he explains. " It's my goal in life to be a Cirque du Soleil performer. I can juggle eight on my shoulders at one time. I go everywhere with my balls. I haven't left home without them in three years."
"I haven't left home without mine since I was born," I crack. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. So, what do you think of the ladies out here tonight?"
"Let's put it this way: I would pay the cover charge just to stand in line," he responds.
The Jettster reappears, and we head over behind the DJ area to catch AM before he slips into his white stretch limo after his set. This we eventually do, walking him to his ride as we talk.
"So, no Nicole tonight, Adam?" I ask.
"Sorry, but I don't comment on my personal life," he answers, stiffening.
"That's cool," I pause. "I dug the classic rock you were droppin'."
"Yeah, that's my favorite music, pretty much," he replies, brightening with the change of subject. "That and older hip-hop. I try to switch it up."
"Neil Diamond even, are you a big fan of his?"
"Not really, but I do like 'Sweet Caroline,'" he tells us.
"You're pretty much at the top of the DJ game right now; what's your advice to DJs out there trying to make it happen?" I ask.
"Practice, practice, practice," he says, easing into the whip. "And take any job you can get. That's what I did for many, many years. Dues have been paid."
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