Dear Tommy Lee,
I've loved you for years and I honestly believe you are one of the best rock n' roll drummers to ever jump behind the kit. You have raw talent and boundless energy. You know how to create rhythm in unique ways and that insight helped make Motley Crue one of America's greatest rock bands.
To this end, dear Tommy, why are you wasting your time making electronica and touring the world to "perform" for fans who have no idea of your true musical legacy? No one says you have to be Motley Crue 100% of the time and I honestly believe you should enjoy other pursuits, but sometimes outside interests can become career suicide.
Drummer God Tommy, I saw your show last night at Hammerjax in Dayton, Ohio.
Oh, what a nightmare that was.
A $30 entry fee and so much security no chance to even get a good look at you, let alone ask you any questions.
Tommy, did your contract rider specify no cameras in the club, or was this a Hammerjax rule? I know you claim to love your fans Tommy. True fans want to take your picture and get a chance to shake your hand. While we're on the subject of true fans, let me tell you how many honest fans you had in that club: about six. Those six included me, bring back glam conspirator Heather, my husband Eric, and three random women wearing Motley Crue shirts.
While you pandered to the college crowd Tommy, I wonder if you realized that no one - save for myself and those five other people I mentioned - could name one Motley Crue song. Does this bother you, Tommy or do you not care about Motley Crue or the true fans that gave you a multi-million dollar estate, the ability to marry Pam Anderson and enough cash to travel around the world until the end of time?
In the nearly five hours I was inside the club, Tommy, I waited for something good to happen. As my business associate Heather put it so eloquently, the whole evening was a "beautiful disaster."
How is it, Tommy, that you played air drums when you can play the real drums? Why is it that hitting a few buttons on your computer is performing music? Jumping up and down and whistling does not a frontman make.
As I watched you perform on your DJ platform Tommy, I couldn't help but wonder how we've gotten here. After all, you are one quarter of the band that gave the world Shout at the Devil and Dr. Feelgood. How is it that this skinny man who once cruised the Sunset Strip with sky-high hair and a lust for life ended up spinning electronica music in Dayton, Ohio?
To be fair, you had a partner in crime.
DJ Aero was standing beside you all night, running the mixer and jumping up and down in your unison. To this end, I have no fault with DJ Aero. After all, he's never been a world-renowned drummer.
Time for some stone-cold career advice Tommy: step away from the laptop, call Nikki Sixx, write a new Motley Crue album.
That is all.
The Glam Mistress