Band Aid

The newly minted rock gods known as Operator take a break from the road to tour the Penthouse Club. This afternoon, singer Johnny Strong had St. Louis in the palm of his hand. Tonight, he has Vegas in his lap.By Jason Harper Photographs by Scott Ferguson

Several weeks before their debut album will place them firmly on the hard-rock map, the Los Angeles band Operator has spent the day paying dues. Rock’s next big thing played a 12:45 P.M. set before Papa Roach on a side stage at St. Louis’s Verizon Wireless Amphitheater. The side-show-attraction status or having to warm up the crowd for Papa Roach don’t faze Operator singer Johnny Strong, who lowers himself into a plush chair at the VIP lounge of the Penthouse Club in St. Louis. “The hardest part about this tour,” he says, “is being in a situation where you might be playing with some dog-shit bands, and you still gotta get up there in front of the crowd and kick ass.” But now he’s kicking back, speaking in quieter tones to the bronze-skinned brunette perched on his knee. “What’s your name?” he asks.”Vegas,” she responds. Strong and his bandmates have taken over the VIP lounge, where girls in corsets, panties, and garters make the L.A. boys feel right at home amid the leopard-print carpet. By the entrance, a stuffed Barbary lion baring a mouthful of fangs looms over a small fishpond: Touch my goldfish and lose an arm, motherfucker. These rockers aren’t exactly the cigar-bar crowd, but guitarists Rikki Lixx and Paul James Phillips, bassist Wade Carpenter,and drummer Dorman Pantfoeder look content as they ease into the leather couches with their smokes and their drinks while Vegas and her colleagues the honey-haired former bull rider Bobbie Jo and the fair-haired knockout Kayla, drape themselves on the band. They’re followed by the pert, busty Aspen, whose long, silky brown hair and dark eye makeup give her an irresistible goth-next-door look.

The band is full of anticipation these days. Their debut album, Soul crusher, single-handedly rejuvenates the hard-rock sound that’s been missing since classic nineties bands Alice in Chains and Soundgarden. And their sexy video (also called “Soulcrusher”) has been heating up the Web. Playing daytime gigs at festivals is all part of the master plan. The band started the day watching some inspiring Pantera videos in the tour bus, then Strong, shirtless and tattooed, led Operator through a thunderous set before a mosh-hungry crowd. “One thing I hate in this world is pussy motherfuckers” he yelled as he towered over the throng. Throughout their set, crowd surfers rode the sea of hands,traveling from the back of the pit to the arms of beefy security guards in the front. At the show’s climax, Strong jumped down into the fray, stood on the iron fence holding back the crowd, arched his back, and unleashed the final notes of “What You Get” in a cathartic howl. Vegas takes a particular liking to Strong, who’s sucking down bottled water and keeping his smoke secondhand. Strong’s physique has helped him land roles in action films (Black Hawk Down, The Fast and the Furious) and make it as a mixed-martial-arts fighter who could potentially compete in the UFC. In other words, he makes Henry Rollins look like Butterbean.Strong thrives on competition. “You never know when shit’s gonna go down,” he says, “and I want to be the strongest motherfucker on the battlefield.” Apparently, this preparedness extends to grappling with his bandmates. “Johnny got pissed the other day,” recalls Carpenter. “We spar all the time and I clocked him a little harder than I should have. He kicked me so hard, I couldn’t walk for a day and a half.” Vegas doesn’t seem to mind Strong’s gruff exterior. She straddles him on the easy chair as he wraps one hand around her neck and tousles her hair with the other. On the far side of the couch, Bobbie Jo stretches out on the laps of Lixx and Phillips. Kayla and Carpenter make like old acquaintances. The tanned beauty runs her hands through the rocker’s soft Mohawk and nuzzles his neck.

At one point, Wade starts waxing about groupie sex backstage, until one strap of Vegas’s dress mysteriously frees itself from her shoulder and the bandmates instantly christen Strong a “Jedi.” Strong wonders aloud, “Do they have to havetheir clothes on?” and soon receives his answer. Vegas’s dress comes up, while Bobbie Jo’s top opens up. The bulbs flash. And then, the clock strikes 12 and it’s time to get back on the bus. It’s only midnight, but the next gig is eight hours away in Iowa. Meanwhile, for the other patrons inside the Penthouse Club, the night is just beginning.