12. JANUARY-JULY 1991: TOURING MAYHEM

[…] the band was several hours late to its performance, and Mr. Rose was finding scapegoats in just about everybody except himself.

In a car full of long-faced Geffen staffers, all of whom have been advised, via a messenger from a certain dressing room, to get out of Dodge.

The band played for nearly four hours that night, taking the stage long after the opening band, Skid Row, finished its set. The crowd was as volatile as the band that night, with multiple fistfights breaking out during the lull between acts.

For 10 minutes – it seemed like an eternity – it was unclear what had happened. Was the show really over? No one could say for sure, and by the time the lights went up and the egress music began playing, the audience’s blood was already up. What was difficult to ascertain, though, was just who they were mad at – the band, the allegedly lax security, or the promoters for not delivering a full show.

RFT columnist Thomas Crone and I watched spellbound from the eighth row as the night unfolded. Axl’s stage dive had occurred only about 15 feet from where we stood. As the riot began, half-empty beer cups were hurled through the air, repeatedly dousing those in the front rows. Security forces ringed the stage, as roadies frantically attempted to remove the band’s equipment. When some of the debris fell short, a few of the GNR staffers began taunting the audience. One of them, dressed in colorful tights, decorated with metal bracelets and brandishing a walking cane, repeatedly grabbed his crotch and made jerking-off motions toward the crowd, further inciting their anger.

By this time, the throng in front of the stage was a roiling mass. The Saddle Tramps, who had benignly been enjoying the show, suddenly erupted into fits of violence. There were moments of palpable horror all around. A man, naked to the waist, with a gash in his shoulder and blood running in rivulets down his face, emerged from the pack and staggered down the aisle. There was someone – was it the man Rose had attacked or the security guard or still someone else? – being removed from the front rows on a stretcher, his head taped to the handles, as if he’d sustained a serious injury.

One audience member challenged the cops, who had by now appeared on the risers to the rear and side of the stage. He tried to run the gauntlet and make a complete circle around the band’s set, but was captured by security forces and wrestled to the ground. Unwisely, after the man had clearly been subdued, a policeman began beating the man on the knees with his baton. The audience chanted, “Fuck you” and “Fuck you, pigs” in response to the undue violence.

The chairs in the pit area directly before the stage were rapidly destroyed and flung through the air. Even the people occupying the luxury boxes joined in, handing their chairs down front bucket-brigade fashion, to be thrown onstage.

Much of what was happening around us seemed freakishly unreal – as if it were a movie or perhaps a Road Runner cartoon. Acts of terrible brutality took on an almost comic edge. One reveler in front of use calmly stomped his seat to pieces, grabbed the flat portion with both hands and Frisbeed it toward the stage. It flew forward, traveling in a huge, wide arc and smashed a security guard squarely in the forehead. He staggered back, cartoon-like, but remained on his feet. The reveler and his buddy laughed uproariously and high-fived each other.

Moments of Keystone Cop-like hilarity took place onstage as well. A GNR staffer stuck his laminated badge necklace down his shirtfront to keep it from getting ripped off his neck as he worked the perimeter of the stage. Not recognizing him without his badge being visible, a security guard unceremoniously dumped him into the front row. Quickly realizing his mistake, the guard and several colleagues plunged into the crowd to retrieve the shaken roadie.

To our amazement, we saw a dozen policemen rolling out a fire hose on stage right. It seemed an extreme measure, since at this point police and security stood fast across the front of the stage. Not only did the sight of the fire hose enrage the rabble further, but the tactic failed utterly. There was some argument about using the hose, when a GNR staffer grabbed it from the police and turned it on. It began spewing a brown goo – sewage? we wondered. But soon enough, the water cleared up and several policemen wrested it back from the roadie. Much to their chagrin, however, there wasn’t enough water pressure to drive the crowd back. Indeed, people were trying to get into the stream, as if a cool dip sounded like a refreshing idea. One man, shirtless and soaked by the water, climbed to the front of the stage, unzipped his pants and waved his penis at the helpless police, who beat a hasty retreat to the stage-rear risers. Another man seized the fire hose and turned it on the police.

Eventually, the officers abandoned the stage altogether. By that time, security was long gone. For a good 15 minutes, anyone still in the venue could have gotten away with anything. There was simply no one to stop them.

I retreated to the sound board, where I found Jim Staniforth of Electrotech Sound, one of the technical crews contracted by the band. Staniforth watched with surprising calm while his company’s equipment was being destroyed. I introduced myself as a reporter and Staniforth stuck out his hand. “Hello, I’m unemployed,” he said. “And you know why? Because Axl Rose just fucked up.”

Onstage, revelers had begun to swing from cables beneath the 60-ton light and sound rig. Huge hanging speaker stacks lurched sickeningly back and forth. “If that rig comes down, there will be massive death,” Staniforth said.

Behind me, a B&D security man admitted, “This is a joke. We’re staying here, covering our ass. People are animals.”

Moving to the side of the pavilion, I watched a skinny man singlehandedly rip down one of the large video screens that flanked either side of the stage. He rode the screen’s cable up and down, as if he were ringing a giant bell. Eventually, the fabric gave way and the thing came crashing down. The man danced away triumphantly.

Police have repeatedly denied using tear gas on the crowd, but everyone I spoke with underneath the pavilion suffered from stinging eyes, a sore throat and nausea. Crone and I suffered the symptoms as well. The tactic worked, however, and in a few minutes, the area cleared out.

When police made a final strategic sweep of the pavilion, they did so swiftly and with terrible force. Crone and I both witnessed several people being thrown down the stairs at the rear of the building. I brandished my press card and yelled, “Press! Press!” thinking perhaps it would lessen the severity of their attack. “Fuck you, cocksucker,” one of them replied. “We’re reporters,” I tried again, to which another said, “That’s nice,” and jabbed Crone viciously in the kidneys with his baton.

We got the message.

Hundreds of police were called out Tuesday night to quell a riot that broke out at the Riverport Ampltheatre In Maryland Heights during a concert by the heavy metal rock group Guns Ν' Roses. The police chief of Maryland Heights requested tear gas and fire hoses to help disperse the crowd. The St. Louis County police helicopter was dispatched to direct police movements. There were reports of people being trampled, and numerous ambulances were sent to the theater. Police supervisors were directing officers to use searchlights on areas of the theater that had been secured to help authorities find Injured and trampled concertgoers. By 1 a.m. today, police still were calling for reinforcements.

Guns N’ Roses singer Axl Rose has made a surprise visit to the Teenage Cancer Trust Ward at the University College Hospital in London.

The singer had just completed Guns N’ Roses’ controversial European tour, culminating with a final date at Wembley Arena a week last Sunday (July 30).

Simon Davies the CEO of the Teenage Cancer Trust Ward said: “We were so touched that Axl wanted to visit the Teenage Cancer Trust ward in London.

“Axl spent time speaking with each of the patients individually asking about their diagnosis and treatment, and what they enjoyed doing when they were not in hospital. Speaking with patients after Axl's visit, I got a real sense of just how excited they were to have met him and how much it lifted their spirits."

The Teenage Cancer Trustis known for its strong links with rock music. Each year The Who singer Roger Daltrey produces a week of shows at the Royal Albert Hall, which this year featured Bloc Party and Razorlight.