Breasts of Steele

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Breasts of Steele was an all-grrl fascist metal band of the late 20th Century.

Members included Jimi Dustbin on bass and vocals, Jimi Tyrone on French horn, Jimi Bourbon on the floor, and Jimi Jimmy outside in the rain.

Their first single ("Don't Tell Me How to Rock") jumped onto the charts and into the critics' laps with what was called "tough originality" and "honesty fused with bittersweet emotion."

Breasts of Steele bassist Jimi Dustbin working the crowd with her famous "Are you a NAZI?" taunt.
Don't tell me how to rock
Because it's really hard
Yeah yeah it's really hard
Being a rock goddess, rocking
Yeah yeah it's really hard
And I get really tired sometimes.

Breasts of Steele embraced politics as an integral part of their act. Jimi Tyrone told Rolling Stoned magazine, "Like, if the President was some spit I'd like, empty him out of my horn. I really would 'cause like I'm real, you know, and reality is like... it bites. Yeah." Jimi Dustbin publicly refused to put pennies in the jars for crippled children. The fierce denunciation of weakness in their controversial hit "Don't Be A Weakling Baby" marked a philosophical watershed:

I got my black boots on
And I don't need no weak man
Cause weak men are weak, baby
And they're not very strong
I got my black boots on
And I'm gonna kick an old guy
Long as he's weak and blind
Cause I'm a tough girl, YEAH!
I got my black boots on
So don't be a weakling baby
Cause I might kick you too
When you're not looking.

The connection to Nietzsche is clear:

What is bad? All that is born of weakness. ~The Antichrist, section 2

The blinding fusion of Realpolitik with the hyper-intellectual inability to not think became clear in the closing song of their next CD. Jimi Dustbin's visceral honking whine grates out the shockingly self-aware lyrics like a Brillo pad scraping raw flesh.

I look at the sky today
There is a war somewhere
Maybe somebody is shooting a gun
So like WTF baby!

The rise to fame... how often it ends in a flaming meteoric descent into smoke and darkness. Let us not speak of the years that followed, the pills, the kitten huffing, the breakdowns, the betrayals. Let us instead remember Dustbin and Tyrone dominating the stage in the actinic light of their brief genius.

I look at my shoes today
There is a bomb somewhere
I think, baby, I think
I got 'em on the wrong feet.