Jesse Hughes may be the less-famous co-pilot of the pirate ship known as the Eagles Of Death Metal, but anyone who’s seen a show will tell you that he’s the personality centerpiece of this band. Cocksure and radiantly eager for the kill, the tattooed, muscle-shirted, aviator-wearing Hollywood history buff makes no bones about what he’s here to do. An EODM concert is nothing short of a foot-stomping, ass-shaking, tits-flashing grand old time with Jesse at the wheel, always ready with a wink and a devilish grin beneath his 70’s cop mustache.

And goddamnit, that’s exactly how a rock star should be.

We tracked down Hughes to discuss, among other things, Los Angeles, his new solo album (tentatively titled Fabulous Weapons) and the perils of being sodomized by P. Diddy. That’s right.

Nine Inch Nails just announced that drummer Ilan Rubin of Lostprophets will replace Josh Freese behind the kit in 2009. Freese recently announced his plans to leave the group.

The guy’s 20 years old. Jesus. I shudder, thinking of the bullshit I was up to at 20.

Is it a good idea to use a band’s Greatest Hits record as an introduction to their body of work? It’s an arguable point, but the b-side and deep-tracks fetishist in me says no. For every Man In The Box, there’s a Right Turn. For every Welcome To The Jungle there’s a Rocket Queen. Where Even Flow and Jeremy ended, Given To Fly and W.M.A. began. And so on. The hits are rarely my favorites.

If there were ever a possible exception to the rule, however, I’d say Stereophonics fit the bill. Pulling from 5 number one albums and 25 top 40 singles, Decade In The Sun is a surprisingly potent sampling of the band’s 12-year history, collectively shining bright enough to finally get the attention of musical ADD sufferers like myself.

The Electric Six show in Los Angeles Friday night was, as expected, a sizzling sex-rock love affair. The band was in top form, rocking in their special Electric way that’s made us such rabid fans here at Antiquiet.

The show was epic, it was awesome, and it lived up to my previous description of them as ’supreme champions of everything unholy and awesome about rock n’ roll.’

But enough about that. The real gem of the evening was my merch-table discovery of a CD called Sexy Trash, a 30-track collection of odds, ends, b-sides and interludes available exclusively at a club near you when Electric Six rolls through on their Hittin’ The Walls And Workin’ The Middle tour. The songs cover the band’s 11-year career, and a brief description of each song from lead singer Dick Valentine is included on the back.

Washed up rocker drowning in his own excess? A middle-aged Axl disciple gone astray? One of the last great rock stars? Whatever you call him, Scott Weiland is a chameleon of many shades, and proves it in spades with Happy In Galoshes, his second solo effort.

Despite being a notorious slave to the vein and having been fired from two chart-topping, Grammy-winning, platinum-selling bands for being a fuckup and a diva, the serpentine vocalist marches onward with the cocky swagger of John Holmes at a nude beach. As usual, it suits him well.