But, the third or fourth next best thing will be. That's right: Tribute band.
Novelist Umberto Ecco pondered the primarily American tradition of realistically recreating reality down to the most nuanced detail in his book Travels in Hyper-Reality, positing that our need to build things like wax museums, or reenact The Civil War comes from being detached from our own history, unlike Europeans, who walk through theirs daily. In this sense, tribute bands are a way for us to experience cultural epochs we missed or pine for longingly.
However, as far as tribute bands are concerned, there's really a much simpler more visceral joy to be gained; the lowbrow rubbernecker urge to see exactly how far they will take the act. Do they have the right guitar? Is the codpiece genuine leather, or only vinyl? Is it their real hair? Will they bang a groupie with a hotel telephone, light their guitarist on fire or fling whiskey bottles at Japanese businessmen, or any of the other acts of depravity detailed in The Crue's collective autobiography, The Dirt—probably one of the funniest books ever written. Will Vince kill someone after the show? And then will he be fired and replaced with a technically more talented but less dreamy tagalong?
No one can say for certain. But it's worth 10 bucks to find out, and see a rockin' set in the meantime.