Today Denver, tomorrow the Twin Cities.
The provocateur who brought you "Piss Christ" pinches off a new concept.
Houstonians who claim Dilana as their own have Dickie, an executive for a "major oil company," to thank. In 1997, Dickie met Dilana, who was born in South Africa, while working in Holland. "I had no idea she was a performer, I just knew she had this incredible magnetism," he says. Dilana's wildly popular (in Holland) cover band got signed to a label, and soon, she exploded in Europe. "We couldn't take public transportation," Dickie recalls.
Later, they married and moved to Houston for Dickie's business. Dilana tried starting some bands, then humbled herself, going from thousands of dollars per night to a few hundred gigging around Houston. Clubs such as Chances weren't interested, though "they've e-mailed me three times since the show." In 2004, she was in a serious motorcycle accident that nearly killed her. Later, fully recovered, she auditioned for Channel 2's Gimme the Mike show, where "Sam Malone told me I had no future in the business," she says with a laugh.Then came Rock Star. After spending three months locked up in an L.A. mansion with her cast mates and performing twice a week, Dilana lost to Rossi on the season finale. "After the show, there was a whole entourage of press. They wanted the raw emotion, and I think they were hoping to get me crying," she says. Instead, Dilana was buzzing. "The press was amazed at how happy I was -- I was ecstatic -- and kept asking if I was in shock."
Then it was the cold dose of reality of life after reality TV. Released from their mansion prison, Dilana says, "Toby [Rand, a fellow Rock Star contestant], Magni and I just stood there. We were so lost. I was like, what the hell do I do now?"
The following day was judgment day; should she stay in L.A. or should she go? "I had a return ticket but decided to stay and strike while the iron's hot." Turning down a deal from Sony, she signed with Jimmy Stewart, who also manages Supernova's Clarke, and he and Dilana threw together a backup band and created a record label and a publishing company. Dilana says her real goal in life is to raise money for a pediatric AIDS foundation she wants to start in Africa, "so I want to make all the money I can -- for that. I could give a shit about a fancy house or nice car."
It's nearly 2 a.m., and backstage at Warehouse, Dilana is hanging out with some holdovers from a private acoustic party after the main show. The acoustic gig almost didn't happen -- Dilana "totally forgot about it" -- and the band has had to improvise. (Drummer Jared made impressive use of keys and a woman's shoe as percussion.) Dilana burps, slaps a female friend's ass 30 times (it's her birthday) and toasts her two "exes in Texas," Dickie (whom she divorced last year) and ex-beau Steven. Later, as her tour manager comes in for the fourth time trying to get the crowd to leave, Dilana signs autographs and does Borat impersonations.
Nicole, 22, has followed Dilana from the start of Rock Star and has flown in from Rhode Island. "It's her energy and the way she gets the crowd going that I -- and I think everybody -- loves about her," she says. Another fan came all the way from New Zealand to see the show.
Tabitha gets choked up as she talks about her idol. "Dilana asked me to make a list of things I wanted to do before, you know, my time," she says. "Next thing I know, I'm selling merchandise at every stop. She even offered to sing at my funeral. If I have to go out, that's the best way to go."
Next, it's off to a swanky suite at the Four Seasons for a little after-party. The music's pumping on the speakers, and a giant bouquet of Corona on ice sits in the living room. There's a knock at the door. "You'll have to break up this party immediately," says a not-kiddin'-around manager, backed by three buff guards. "Now."
Dilana's entourage spills out into the hallway, giggling. As she whistles to her friends, an irate hotel guest opens the door and glares at us. "Uh-oh," says Dilana naughtily. "I think I'm screwed -- and I barely got to drink."
Her life reads almost like a Behind the Music script: Girl leaves poverty in South Africa, travels Europe, falls in love, struggles in the U.S., nearly dies in a Harley crash, and becomes a star. And now, in true rock star form, she's getting thrown out of a hotel suite. Yes, Dilana may have tapped into the newest form of marketing for musicians: losing on a reality TV show. "I hadn't thought of that," she says with a laugh. "But yeah, especially when you look at all these singing contests -- most of the runners-up become more famous than the winner. Look at Clay Aiken. Getting second place is the best thing that could've happened to me. I won, baby -- I totally won."