Reality Show Recap: ‘The Rock Life’ Debuts With Slash and Ass-Crack Aplenty

Every week The Rock Life follows Los Angeles band Whitestarr as they attempt to make it in the music biz. But who’s following The Rock Life? We are! Here’s our first report:

Here’s Whitestarr lead singer Cisco Adler opening VH1’s umpteenth new reality show: “We’re just an average, struggling rock band that’s trying to make it.” However, the unspoken undercurrent from the get-go is that Whitestarr are just an average, struggling rock band whose lead singer is the spawn of the guy who produced Sam Cooke records, lives in palatial Malibu digs, drives a shiny red Caddy and is currently dating Marissa Cooper on The O.C. (clearly this was filmed a while back). Shelved by Atlantic a few years back, they’re looking for a second chance, armed with little more than a Black Crowes shimmy, a Buckcherry ’tude, a stunning amount of self-absorption and pants that don’t always fit right — forget the music, last night’s back-to-back premiere episodes featured no less than sixteen different shots of ass-crack!

VH1 debuted two episodes in a row, probably since the expository first episode didn’t have much for actual conflict — be-fro’d guitarist Rainbow tried to convince his girlfriend to stay home from the sold-out Roxy show (“What if I was a lawyer and you came to my job with me?”) and then hot-dogged a guitar solo because Slash (sans sunglasses … yikes) was in the audience. And full-time dancer Tony Potato was concerned over the footing on his dancing platform at the Roxy. But the second episode was classic millennial Monkees antics. Their new manager advises them to “write the hit,” so they all move into Adler’s fancy digs to compose their ticket out of obscurity. And — surprise! — it’s not that simple as they thought!

When the manager comes to check on their progress, Adler is frustrated that his band is so drunk and underrehearsed that everything devolves into tuneless flubs and bickering. Adler’s cute little dog dies (if this was the real “rock life,” someone would have taken acid and mistook her for a hot pocket) and his conspicuously absent-from-camera-time actress girlfriend stops talking to him. Somehow this gets him riled up enough turn a show at the Viper Room into a “riot,” tearing up the stage and taking out his weiner. There’s a happy ending in that they finally write a song, the implication being that it’s the one that will take them to the top. If we’re lucky, uh, whatever the song is called could be our own “Last Train to Clarksville.”