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Ever since Jim Morrison's bacchanalian heyday, many rockers have tried and failed to get loaded and deliver a good show. Most musicians who get drunk on stage play like three-fingered adolescents listening to the beat of their swollen bladders instead of, say, the drums. But there are a few special artists who can drink like the devil andplay well -- siphoning the fire of the fuel and feeding it back into their instruments, pushing the performance into the realm of electric Elysium.

The members of local spaz-rock band Sexy have developed a reputation for getting absolutely hammered while delivering the kind of loud, fast, short, and snotty songs that make you want to take your pants off. A power trio featuring only drums, bass, and guitar, Sexy swears, spits, and grunts in that indefinable way that prompts men to be described as, well, sexy. At the group's shows, in case there was any doubt as to who or what the act is, a shadowy figure lurks in the background (a manager? roadie? illiterate cousin?), running up and scrawling "Sexy" on the drummer's naked torso with a large permanent pen.

Sexy will soon be releasing its debut full-length on S.P.A.M. Records, easily the East Bay's silliest record label. A "music and arts collective," S.P.A.M. has put out strange but cool albums by such bands as Gravy Train!!!! and the Blast Rocks!!! And while Sexy does not share its labelmates' trademark amateurism (or their penchant for punctuation), its record should complement S.P.A.M.'s already adventurous roster. Enjoy this band now, before it joins the addled legions at the Betty Ford Center, shaking and deaf.