Don't Quit Your Day Job

In Hollywood, everyone is waiting for the 'big break.' And everyone has a 'day job.' Matt Dully's day job is as an investigator for the District Attorney's office. He tracks down the deadbeat dads and moms that the D.A. can't find. Which is ironic, because, as reported in the L.A. Times and the L.A. Weekly, the D.A. can't find itself, let alone a deadbeat. Matt is the ideal Angeleno. His job doesn't confine him to the 9 to 5 track that the rest of corporate America walks on; he's free to indulge in more serious interests, like music.

Matt's been in various rock bands. Bands like Smogzilla, Vanity Vulva, and Trash; all heavy Ozzy Osbourne-influenced rock with regular exposure at your great West Hollywood clubs like The Roxy, The Whisky, and The Troubadour. Places where David Crosby, Jim Morrison, and Tommy Chong got their 'big breaks.'

Now, there's a little known secret in L.A. And it's a 'dirty' secret too. So dirty that most 'respectable' journalists wouldn't dare investigate it. But I've done the dirty work here. Please, don't check my other sources, but, let it be said: Porn is Big Business in L.A. Porn is huge. We're talking billions, buddy!

Well, during my conversations with Matt, I learned that his latest gig has been writing the soundtracks for Explicit Videos. And this, all done right from his 12 track mixer beneath my apartment in Hollywood.

So every day he'd crank up the keyboards, plunk down some chords, throw in a beat, and voilà, music to boink to; or rather, music to watch other people boink to.

I asked him if the actresses (ehem) ever requested certain songs. He said they prefer Kool and the Gang, especially "Ladies Night," but that copyright restrictions prohibited their use. "Boy," Matt said, imitating Donna DDDD, "I wish we could raise the standards of our soundtracks, you know, like raise the bar, maybe hit the charts." Matt smiled. He looked me in the eye and with a swagger said, "I know I'll make the charts. I'm getting some great experience."

And so, after coming in from a day of chasing deadbeats in his white El Camino, with Elvis, his Husky, tied with a 3 inch thick steel chain to the bed, Matt would tend to his muse. And, think, you could be relaxing in some dingy Pussycat theater, or other adult night spot, enjoying the style and grace of another fine performance by Donna DDDD or one of her cohorts, just wondering when you might get your 'big break'. In L.A., you'll get it.

- Jesse Ratner