Phil Spector may be a kinky gun-loving maniac but he’s a brave man when sitting in his barber’s chair. Spector’s new sleek blonde bob reminds many of Clay Aiken, which is one way to go in the other-musician-emulation game, but we think it’s time for a change. You are Phil Spector’s hair stylist. You have that dome of his in your chair. What rock star do you let inspire Spector’s next look?

Today we learned that Pete Doherty has completed an acoustic solo album. We know many of you are extremely stoked to get a load of Pete unplugged, but you’ll have to wait until after the guy finishes writing and recording the new Babyshambles album, as the label is insisting it come out first. Anyway. In the meantime we were thinking it might be fun to have some other alleged voice of his/her generation go all contemplative side project on us and release his/her own solo record. You are in charge of orchestrating this. Which rocker, who is currently, definitively part of a group, would you like to see take five to record an acoustic solo album?

The NME is reporting that Nirvana’s Nevermind is being turned into “a dance based show” by Seattle’s Spectrum Dance Theater. We’re not going to speculate on the sucking/rocking odds of the show, which features steps inspired by the dance moves of the L.A. punk scene. But we would like to ponder the following question: Is there any album in existence that could survive adaptation into a modern dance piece? If so, which one? And if not, what should be done to stop those who engage in this kind of (often blasphemous) treatment?

In light of the 50th anniversary of the publication of Dr. Seuss’ The Cat in the Hat this month, maybe you’ve started thinking about wearing those regretable red and white top hats to (equally regretable) raves back in the ’90s (when the book was like…40 or something). What are some other rock fashion trends, current and past, that you’ve grown to or suspect you will grow to regret and why?

You’re driving in your car/grocery shopping/waiting in line at the post office when that song comes on the radio. Suddenly you are overwhelmed with nostalgia for a time and place when thrift store flannel and Gap jeans were the height of fashion. You go home, put on the Singles soundtrack and are searching eBay for abandoned cases of Crystal Pepsi when a rock genie descends from the sky and invites you to permanently alter the way a certain now-kitschy-at-best ’90s star/band is perceived. Who do you save from a life defined by I Love The ’90s references?

You’re mulling over the news that Adam Duritz has launched his own record label when an angel descends from the sky and makes you an offer you cant refuse. “Everyone from Kiefer Sutherland to that kid who played the hobbit has his or her own label these days,” the angel says, rolling it’s angel eyes (it’s an ironic hipster angel that looks kinda like Steven Malkmus). “It’s time for a worthy rocker/celebrity to throw their hat in the label-having ring.” The angel commands you to take 24 hours, meditate, and emerge with a name in mind. Who do you nominate to save the vanity record label game from people like Heath Ledger?

You are Prince’s valet, Jerome. (Prince stole you from Morris Day). You’re alone with Prince post-Super Bowl, holding his purple Samsonite luggage, waiting to throw it in the back of the limo. “Damn, Prince,” you exclaim. “You look and sound exactly the same as when we were playing First Avenue in the ’80s and Wendy and Lisa were trying to get you to hear their new song. What’s your secret?” High on crowd love, Prince turns to you and whispers it into your ear before transforming into a dove and vanishing. The limo arrives. You get inside, find a pen and write down Prince’s secret to never aging/sucking. What does your note say?

President Bush’s advisors call you into their offices and say, “Look, we’re facing a 29 percent approval rating, we’ll do anything to move the numbers. Can you suggest one cred-boosting album the president should add to his collection, something that’ll make him seem cool when he mentions it apropos of nothing in press conferences?” (Who wouldn’t like Bush a lot better if he were a Sebadoh fan?) Which record do you suggest? (Besides “Go to hell, War Pigs” – this is for ARGUMENT’S sake).

You are in charge of the airwaves. In addition to putting Howard Stern back in every American household and nixing all car dealership ads, you’re doing some playlist editing. One wave of your editorial wand and no one will ever have to hear Quad City DJ’s “C’mon N Ride It (The Train)” ever again. What song would you have permanently erased from the radio?

[Thanks to Jim for inspiring this Lunchtime Poll]

You are going to be reincarnated. The people who manage this sort of thing have decided that you will come back as a rock star’s pet. They’ve also decided that you get to choose who you’ll have as your master. Whose pet do you come back as, and what do they serve you for supper?

You’ve got the Doc’s DeLorean. You also have the following instructions: You are to go back in time, locate the currently deceased rock star of your choice, and save him or her from dying. Which rock star do you chose and how does their survival alter the space-time continuum? What great works/sad falls from grace do they live on to achieve?

[many thanks to our reader B.J. for inspiring this Lunchtime Poll]

You’ve died. Via an error in processing you find yourself in heaven. You’re partying with God at the Welcome to Paradise orientation event when God, who’s had a few too many cups of ambrosia, offers to send you back to earth to fulfill the one dream that eluded you while you were alive. You’ve always wanted to sing the one perfect song at your own funeral, so God agrees to reanimate your corpse long enough to rock. Who do you ask God to book as your backing band, and what song do you perform?

[thanks to our reader Jill Hives for suggesting this poll]

You are taking a Name That Rock Band course at your local community college. Your final exam involves selecting one perfect though as-of-yet unused rock band name. The best selection will be used to save the Next Big Thing from a career spent being called Test Icicles or Be Your Own Pet (genius band, terrible name). What name do you nominate?

Your turn. Remember these questions are meant to be whimsical. If news inspires you, fine, but don’t tell anyone that. The Lunchtime Poll is meant to take us out of reality, not steep us in it. As you know, we aped the concept from Winona Ryder star-making vehicle and classic 80s black comedy Heathers, so the perfect Lunchtime Poll question employs the same fantastical tone and theoretical structure as the one asked in the film (”You win five million dollars from the Publisher’s Sweepstakes, and the same day that that big Ed guy gives you the cheque, aliens land on the earth and say they’re going to blow up the world in two days. What do you do?”) Respect, or you’ll never make it to the funeral on time.

We find the best way to go about this involves copious amounts of scotch and a collection of chatty rock geeks, but it’s your call. Really good questions will be used next week!

Andy Warhol’s ghost appears to you one night while you’re in the attic looking for an old coat that’s come back in style. “Oh, hi,” he drawls, “I was hoping you could tell me what I’ve been missing all these years. I’m so bored.” He promises to do a silkscreen of your cat Netty if you bring him up to speed. That kitty portrait will be worth millions and also be very cute. Only problem is, he can only stay on this terrestrial plane for fifteen minutes. What are the five greatest achievements of the last twenty years, why and what would Warhol’s reaction be?