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In a soundproof music studio, "hair salons in kalamazoo" stars a punk drummer with a mohawk. She strips behind the kit, using drumsticks to tease her pierced labia. "hair salons in kalamazoo" syncs each thrust to a beat—four fingers in her pussy on the snare, thumb in her ass on the kick. "Play me like a solo," she growls, the camera catching sweat flying with each hit. A mic stand becomes a dildo, cold metal sliding in as she rides it on the throne. "hair salons in kalamazoo" climaxes with a cymbal crash, her squirt hitting the skins like rain. She licks the mic, tasting herself and metal. "hair salons in kalamazoo" fuses legal rock 'n' roll with explicit female rhythm.