From the very excellent essay The Magic Merge by Tracy Rose Keaton in Frequencies, Volume 1 Fall 2012 p.56-59:
The Scottish foursome The Bay City Rollers were the little neon-pink tulips that rose from AM radio’s utopian soil, and every girl wanted more than a whiff. […]
The boys ascended from their black car, so pale and slender, their shoulders narrow, and their hair ornately chopped-up in beautiful plumage. They wore plaid pants in gleaming red and green, with their little hipbones jutting out…These men were like girls, bird-like and frail. They looked like me, except with weenies. Where was their daddy, I thought. […]
The birdmen bobbed up and down, perpetually smiling. Suddenly girls were appearing on the stage, wrapping their bodies around the young men. Big dudes ran out of the wings, unwrapping the young girls from the birdmen’s bodies and carrying them off the stage. There was one girl after another, and sometimes we would be only a couple feet away from them as they were dragged offstage.
I will never forget the girl who required four men to carry her off. She was spasming, her pink baby-tee pulled up around her chest to reveal soft white rolls of fat, her sad little face knit in anger and disappointment. “I JUST WANT TO TOUCH THEM! I JUST WANT TO TOUCH THEM!” she wailed over and over.