Album Notes

It was a dark, rainy night in the summer of '79 when Marcelo Bordello Romero, known then as "The Little Prince of Alphabet City," had a whiskey-fueled vision. What if all people could just manage to live in peace, and *understand* each other. No, wait. That was someone else.

Sprawled out in a ditch off the Belt Parkway, staring up at the stars and wondering how he got there but not really caring, Marcelo envisioned a band where all male members would be fitted in tight leather pants and all female members, in miniskirts, fishnets and stilettos. And matching t-shirts tight enough to show what they're meant to show. The band would play arena rock in secret society basement meetings and all-girl colleges in the northeast. And prisons.

The next day, since he didn't have a lab where he could create these girls with his bare hands, he pulled his treasured catalogue out from under his pillow and sent away for two Russian mail-order brides. Two months later, Annabelle Blue and "Anne" Kadet arrived in the states. They didn't speak English but they let their hands do the talking when he bought them each, respectively, a '79 black Gibson destroyer and a baby grand piano, which Anne promptly sold for a Korg keyboard with a sexy '60s sound. Smart girl.

The Anabolics, as they were soon named by someone whose name no one remembers anymore, were an instant sensation. Exploding into public view with their 1983 number-one single, "Between The Sheets," they traveled the country in a fleet of cars inside a tour bus inside a Boeing 747, and made a billion dollars, trashed the White House, and made their parents and Barbara Walters cry.

Then came the dark years. Details available for a fee.

In the summer of 2003, The Anabolics regained consciousness in a Malaysian prison. Bathed and semi-sober, they played a comeback gig on the Conan O'Brien show followed by a sold-out gig at Scores. The rest is history.