They're brilliant

The saloon has been slowly filling up, and you sit back and sip your second beer, taking a look at the crowd. As Christina said, it's kind of a mixed bag, with everything from young hipsters to middle aged couples and a few blue collar types who look like they're still in their work clothes. Its the kind of place you saw dozens of times when you were in the minor leagues and you feel right at home. Your musings are interrupted by a voice over the speakers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the Red Falcon Saloon is proud to present the hardest rocking chicks on the east coast. They've played here many times and are a great favourite of everyone here! Give it up for Sister Tina Torrid and Crazy Train!" There is a burst of applause and a few whistles as the band steps out and picks up their instruments, immediately launching into T. Rex's 'Get it on.'"

You're not surprised that they're good, having seen Christina play, but you are surprised at just how good they are. Lisa is a vibrant drummer, her silky blonde hair flailing as she works. Carmen plays a very solid bass, and Vicki's keyboards are excellent. She's also the vocalist, and her rich contralto voice is startling. Christina's guitar work is a maze of riffs off the main theme, and her palpable energy on stage is electric.

What's more, the four of them are dressed to kill. Christina is in skinny pants of some shimmering black material, with the same bandeau bra and vest you saw her in earlier, her full sleeve tats on full display. She looks every inch the goddess of punk rock.

Carmen wears a loose fitting black mini dress that shows off a fine pair of tanned legs and is low cut enough to show the top curves of her breasts. She's teased her hair into a semblance of the eighties big-hair look, and as she plays her face has a look of indifferent sexuality that is extraordinarily erotic.

Lisa wears a large men's dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up past her elbows. The shirt is so big on her that when she came out it was impossible to see if she had anything else on, and she gives the impression of a woman who has tumbled out of a man's bed and thrown on his shirt.

Vicki is in a tight tiger patterned jumpsuit that clings to her lush body, and is so low cut her full breasts look in imminent danger of popping out at any moment. She sways as she plays and sings, a knowing smile quirking her lips that speaks of lascivious delights, if only one got to know her better.

The crowd loves them. There is a burst of applause as they finish the song, and more than a few whistles of approval.

"Thank you Red Falcon!" Christina shouts. "Always great to be back here among friends. For those of you who missed it I am Sister Tina Torrid, and this is Crazy Train, and we will be conducting services all night long!"

She steps back from her mike and launches into the unmistakable opening to Santana's 'Smooth.' Lisa's drumming takes on a distinct latin beat and Vicki's vocals come in like liquid sexuality. The crowd howls approval, several couples and a few single women filling the tiny dance floor.

For the rest of the set they play numbers ranging from five decades, each of them easily recognisable, but each with a signature take that the band makes entirely their own. You love watching them, watching the interplay of glances between them as they play and utterly entranced by the sexuality of them.

When Christina shows her own vocal talents on a raucous version of 'Shipping Up to Boston' you're surprised at the vibrant rasp of her voice that makes you imagine that she's a Southie hood who found her way onto the stage. By the time they take a break, you and the crowd are eating out of their hands giving them a rousing ovation.