Credits by the Obscure-O-Banner Corporation of America:


The credits consist mostly of the bands you will be seeing, and you are encouraged to find some sort of trenching tool and set to it:



Oh, it's a cheapie, with a storied history. Few movies have packed more music and less acting talent into a film - some promoter got the idea to harness all the local Dallas talent into a movie and make it for $3.97, which meant no actors, unpaid extras, 1.5 sets, and a plot that consisted of that old hoary standby, "teens saving the place wherein they dig, and also groove, daddy."



Whoa: it's Edgar Winter in larva form:



That's Donnie Gililland, still around as of this writing, and still rockin', from some reports.

As you can imagine, half the movie consists of audience shots:



Why so serious? C'mon, baby, rock it, baby, rock it!


That's better.

Uh oh; customer at table 3 has had a stroke:



The music includes the stylings of the Future Funeral Directors of America:



There are also Negro Groups to ensure no distribution in certain markets. They all blow the roof off the joint, but two acts stand out. One: Johnny Carroll.


Paving the way for ugly British rockers! The guy could tear it up, rockabilly style. (Note: there were videos for this, but now they have unskippable pre-roll ads, so google 'em if you want 'em.)

Then there's the Aryan Cloned Boys:



The Belew Twins. I'd like to say one, or both, is the father of Adrian Belew, but doesn't seem so. =


Least necessary part of the movie: the producer gets his middle-aged friends to show up for a poolside scene. It's like the Amazing Colossal Man's sex tape:



More hotness:




You know how this will end, don't you?