"There's a minority that, throughout history, have been the people who have changed things and made things happen. The people that have been leaders instead of followers. They've all had a certain sensibility in common and, whether it's something they've learned or something that's merely innate in them like some sort of genetic mutation, what's made them special is their different way of looking at the world - that ability to be a player rather than someone sitting in the audience." This statement of the Satanic philosophy, as taught by the late, great Anton Szandor LaVey is reiterated by Coop, the American art maestro formerly known as Chris Cooper, who epitomises LaVey's radical sensibility.

Over the years, America has proved to be a peculiar breeding ground for individuals who, in a disconcerting effort to redefine popular culture, have deemed it their duty to slit open the slimy, fake underbelly of the art world, drag out its innards and infect them with their twisted imaginations. Along with punksters The Ramones and the legendary 1950s magazine Mad, it was to these innovators - the likes of 1960s underground comic artist Robert Crumb, lowbrow legend Robert Williams and the 1980s comic artists, the Hernandez Love And Rockets Brothers, Dan Eight-Ball Clowes and Pete Hate Bagge - that Coop turned to for inspiration, and who set him on course towards creating Coop world.

A place where giant beatnik eyeballs cruise with coffee-supping beatnikettes in souped-up hot rods; where a fresh-off-the-cross Jesus is used as a seat by a saucy nun; gorgeous alien man-eaters ravish all-comers with their ray guns; red hot-n-nasty devil girls rule the roost and everyone hails the suave dude with the goatee, horns and spiky tail.

Born 30 years ago in the Tulsa suburb of Bixby, Oklahoma, Coop openly admits he never imagined his life would see him being part of a profit-making art vanguard: "I often wonder where in the fuck I got the idea that I was ever gonna move away from Oklahoma, be an artist, and presumably become rich and famous. I didn't go to art school, I'm a fucking high school graduate. There was never any indication that I was gonna be able to do anything other than get a job at a fucking Burger King."

That said, having moved to California during the early 1990s, Providence saw him meet with two more major influences: high school dropout and rock poster supremo, Frank Kozik, who encouraged him to make a move into the rock poster art arena; and Sympathy For The Record Industry's entrepreneurial anti-mogul Long Gone John, who commissioned him to do artwork for numerous record sleeves and ads.

The Butthole Surfers, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Reverend Horton Heat... while every hip-to-tha-Coop band on Planet Rock wanted to be immortalised in one of his posters, the highlight of the Coop's output thus far is his collaboration with Anton LaVey on the recruitment poster for the Church of Satan: "his tacit approval made me feel like I was on the right track". LaVey undoubtably approved of the creation that's regarded as something of a Coop trademark - "He liked women with big fat asses" - the Devil Girl.

Although quite happy making a few quid from his work, greater gratification is reaped via his continuing quest for a perfect Coop World: "Something that people misinterpreted in the past is that I am an aesthetic fascist. The function of my art is that I have a very definite idea of how I think the world should look - automobiles, buildings, women's hairstyles, shoes (especially shoes) - what would make me happy and the world appear beautiful to me.

"My goal is to spread my ideal to enough of a cross-section of society to actually effect change. On a small level, I've already started hoping that with my artwork on T-shirts; and, on a more significant level, by depicting a very personal alternative to the societal ideal of how women should look. So many women tell me how much they appreciate the fact that I draw voluptuous, vivacious, real women. Making these women appreciate themselves more is one of the best compliments I can get.

"After all, if I can inspire more women to walk around in tight-fitting skirts, with cleavages spilling out of low-cut tops, I think I've succeeded in the best manner possible."