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10/31/22: Kelly's in FL helping her family & friends after harricane damaged the area. We won't be playing, but hope everyone has Happy Halloween! Saty safe and have fun!!




10/11/22: Thanks Mike of “Covering the Scene” for a killer writeup & pics from a few weeks back!!!
The three members of Tiger Sex together played a unique formula harkening back to the days when punk was legitimately dangerous and band members and fans could get injured or leave wounded. It was a loud audible middle finger salute to mid-70’s London, the forefathers of hardcore, punk and anything goes stage anarchy.
The voice of the Tiger, Kelly with unique Sex appeal screamed, yelled and otherwise treated the stage like vintage punk fodder marking her tambourine bashing territory.  The set was a modern slice of the authentic-vintage punk experience from the day.. In the dark reflection of GG Allen, The Sex Pistols and CBGB’s, Tiger Sex created a modern day, ‘70s to early ‘80s throw back vibe, minus the safety pins and spiked gloves, back when Johnny, Sid and Nancy made headlines trashing, thrashing venues and themselves.
Chelston draped in ‘80s attire, shredded clothes, hair spiked, eyes blackened created a vibe of dangerous, unpredictability and tension with uncertainty created with every cathartic, seemingly out of control movement made. Watching her perform, no one in the venue knew what she’d do or happen next. A few fans got a unique meet and greet with well-soled liquid.
A moshpit or some old-school pit moves would’ve fit right in. Seeing people ‘pick up change’ or do the ‘windmill’ would’ve been OG cool. They created an atmosphere where blood could’ve been spilled.
Six loud strings and drums carried her voice and body across the stage, body hitting, planting the floor, rolling around, in bizarre gymnastic stance and dance. Her eyes scoured the crowd, gaze searing as throat gave voice to the bizarre looks and stares with a world of lyrical thoughts juggling in her head.
Watching the reckless abandon of body, limbs and balance was like non-stop cathartic poetry written by unsteady hands scribbling verse of a modern day Wendy O Williams.  In a new age Mad Max with an Iggy Pop edge. Though that night, it was authentic booted beer and not hand thrown jarred peanut butter. It was a show, depending on the crowd that could’ve gone anywhere from PG to R depending on the mood.
The term possessed in performance is used often but not always seen in literal action. “Lick My Kicks” wrangled the hardcore fans willing to partake in a personal liquid experience getting booted in the face with a smile. It wasn’t Overkill’s Wrecking Crew version but their stamp on “Fuck You” screamed loud, seeping with punk-style radiation and attitude like their out of control singer in the best of ways. She might’ve been the talking head of the beast but the gentlemen around her provided the working parts of the wicked sounding machine.
: Link to the article

10/5/22: Thanks PRN for the annual "Best Performance" award!!
9/16/22: Thanks everyone who reached out to me ( -Kelly)
I went to the ER and got diagnosed with Pneumonia and Bronchitis. I have to take a shit ton of meds and rest. The pain is real. Wish me luck!

8/22/22: We have leftovers of our NEW limited qty "RED" travel packaged from our Euro tour, so grab them at a show while you can! more to follow!
Also available on Merch page
 
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