1988.05.DD - Metal Creem Close-Up - Guns N' Roses Are Not Here To Look Good In Magazines (Slash, Duff)

Transcript:
Guns N' Roses Are Not Here To Look Good In Magazines
by Elianne Halbersberg

Guns N' Roses: they are, and aren't, everything you expect. They've recaptured the rawness of rock 'n' roll at its most traditional and created something totally new, vibrant, brutally honest. What makes Guns N' Roses so special is the sum of its unique parts: a compatible jigsaw of diverse pieces. Guitarists lzzy Stradlin—mysterious, silent—and Slash, just Slash, aggressive, talkative. Drummer Steven Adler—carefree, easy-going. Bassist Duff McKagan happily mediates between the entities. Completing the structure is W. Axl Rose, first or last of this decade's street poets, depending on your point of view. Frighteningly intense, volatile, a volcanic personality threatening to erupt even in his quietest moments. His songwriting and vocal potential were only touched upon on their debut album, Appetite For Destruction.

From the limited confines of a Texas hotel room, over spaghetti, salad, garlic bread and "enough crackers to feed us for a week," Duff and Slash prepare for another round of interrogation. Today, we'll attempt to understand Guns N' Roses without the standard interview questions. Individuality, in this case, speaks much louder than studio statistics.

"It's not even that we're bored," Slash says in reference to the press storm they've generated. "But it's the stupid questions some people ask that have no-thing to do with us. The same stories are printed over and over. Kids aren't reading it anymore. They're just looking at the pictures. If you're doing a piece on any subject, the point is to bring out interesting stuff, right? Not to waste time going through the movements. It's the same with every profession—you always run into some moron with no sense of creativity who's just doing what his job implies so he can collect his check. I couldn't give a damn about the actual person interviewing me, but I do give a damn about what comes out in print as a result of a writer's attitude, or whether he relies on stupid material. Within five to 15 minutes, I can sense what the person is like. I don't go out of my way to be an asshole, but if there's a certain vibe, yeah, I'll give them a hard time."

Strong words, but GN'R have countered enough controversy and misrepresentation at so early a stage as to warrant peeling a few sour grapes. "Before this album," Duff bristles, "there was talk that we were all junkies. Bad-boy image and nothing else; glam with no music behind us. Not trying to sound stuck-up, but the album blew some minds. No one thought we'd make it through the studio time. Nobody thought we'd make it through any tour. We've been out since June with the Cult, Motley Crue, Alice Cooper—so screw you out there if you said we couldn't do it!"

"They say we're shallow-minded, junkies, women abusers," Slash adds, "because we don't try putting out heavy-duty conceptual stuff that's not worth talking about. We go, 'yeah, screw this.' We're a band. Go to the gig and find your own analyst. Some idiot girl in England thought 'Mr. Brownstone' was about groupies. We're not like that; were not macho chauvinists. We've all got girlfriends. We're honest. not a facade of rock 'n' roll to look good in magazines. People get ignorant preconceived notions of what our music represents, who we are as people. I instantly take offense in interviews to stupid-ass, shallow journalists, which is not fair to say about all the press-for instance, this interview is real different..." (thanks, guys!) "... but most of them are taking the same approach."

To grasp why GN'R are like this, we must travel back in time. "Oh, cool!" Duff offers. "The first record I bought myself, since I had Led Zeppelin and stuff from my sister, was Kiss Alive. Then I went on a spree—Sex Pistols, Buzzcocks, the Clash, U.K. Subs. My first concert was Aerosmith on the Rocks tour at Kingdome in Seattle, 70,000-75,000 people. The next year, I saw Zeppelin on their last tour and that had a huge effect on me, because I was getting into music actively then. Seattle is a rowdy rock 'n' roll town with a hip underground. When punk began in the U.S., it was New York and Seattle. L.A. was way behind. I got into music at a perfect point; there were millions of bands and places to play. You won't get anywhere—except for Queensryche, who got signed—but for me, Seattle was a good training ground to learn the ropes."

"My first record—there's two angles," Slash begins. "The first was the Alice In Wonderland soundtrack when I was six or seven. My first rock 'n' roll record was Aerosmith's Rocks. That was my first concert, on my own, in L.A. and it had a major effect. I was real serious at that point and whatever got me by the balls had me so enthralled. I'm very single-minded and when I get into something, I'm hardcore."

Growing up in Stock-In-Trent until age 11 was "Great—an entirely different atmosphere, different set of morals as far as things considered important. L.A. has everything. In Northern England, there's a difference in what's held in high regard. It's a lot tougher there; school is different. I fought a lot when I was real young. I'm usually calm now. Moving to L.A.—the transition—when you're young, you take in so much, it's just another experience."

As much as GN'R's lyrics often hint at loss of innocence and childhood (an area only Axl can explore for us, should he choose), both musicians admit to growing up on the outside looking in. "After I got into music a bit," Duff explains, "the whole attitude came in and it grew more distant every month. It started in junior high. My friend and I played and learned together, and slowly drifted apart from our peer group. By ninth grade, I was totally outcast, big time, from the norm. I quit school in 10th grade, got my GED, pursued music, played clubs and got home at three in the morning. I felt different from everyone. No better, but different in my ambitions.

"I'm still a kid as far as my attitude and the way I live," he continues. "But my childhood—I started real early. With seven older brothers and sisters, they had already gone through the hippie revolution and everything. Pot was around me since the first or second grade. I smoked for the first time in fourth grade and tried acid in sixth grade. No big deal. I went through a huge drug period. I was more mature at 15 than most kids, and by 17, I had gone through all the drugs I would ever want to take. I didn't miss any childhood, I just sped up the process."

It was the worst," Slash recalls. All through school, I was different; the only kid with long curly hair. It was just as bad in the U.S. I didn't start feeling comfortable until eighth or ninth grade when I didn't give a damn and suddenly that was cool. I was an outcast, not liked, didn't fit in with the curriculum. I started working to support my music, and at a certain point I could look back and see what total pricks those people were. Once we got signed, we suddenly had 'friends' we never knew we had. We're not stupid. We saw it coming. took it in stride, and said. 'F--- off!' The way I grew up wasn't a normal, regular childhood, you know—elementary school, major transition, rock 'n' roll. It wasn't like that. Everyone in this band has some quirk, our own stories, and that's why we fit together so well. That has a lot to do with our sense of feeling and soul."

They speak of trying times before GN'R solidified and the dues that were paid in a variety of dead-end jobs. Duff worked "doing construction for a real asshole, dishwashing, and as a cook for five years. The worst jobs are the ones where you work under people who don't realize you're a person. If I was a boss, I'd give leeway to let my employees know they're somebody. My ambition, way down the road, is to be a bartender/owner of a place in New Orleans." Chez Duff, he predicts, "will have a special padded table for Slash, cheap beer and good rock 'n' roll! Simple things; nothing fancy. Just a place where people can hang out and drink. With a big guy at the front to beat the crap out of anybody who needs it!"

Slash, meanwhile, worked an outrageous multi-street L.A. paper route (on foot), in theaters, and late nights at a newsstand. Like his teammates, he maintained employment until GN'R was securely signed. He cites the most difficult period as that spent looking for the right combination of people. "We're the only ones that had it all together as far as the stuff I was into. Everyone else is a poseur. L.A. is such a melting pot. If you want a singer, let's say, you'll find a bunch of guys with either long blond hair, spiked black hair, scarves, and who can spin a microphone stand and prance. But there's no substance. If it wasn't for these 4 four, I'd still be looking.

"I don't take it too seriously," he clarifies. "If you make statements thinking your band is the center of the universe, then you're talking out of your ass. There is no such thing. Only a handful of entertainers get close, and it's not preconceived. This is the only thing I care about, so I do it to the extent I've got, but it's still just a rock 'n' roll band. If we die out without making the history books, I'm not worried."

Long past the days of "sharing one-rooms and lethal explosions between ourselves," Duff observes. "We're way beyond that. It's all been talked out. There's nothing galactic; no sign. It just happened. We've got something really basic and good. I guess the song that most represents me on the album is 'It's So Easy.' It has a lot to do with my roots, musically. I wrote it at a point when that kind of stuff was going down in my life. That one and 'Paradise City.' There's a bit of each of us in every song." Slash agrees. "Although I don't write lyrics, they're all pretty close to home. Musically, I'd say the whole record is me, in representation and feeling, especially 'Paradise City,' Sweet Child O' Mine,' 'Welcome To The Jungle' and 'Rocket Queen.' The only one that isn't me is 'Think About You,' because Izzy wrote that one and I just added my tracks. But I still feel it."

The guitarist acknowledges "no real friends closer than the band. We've survived, solidified our existence and relationship." Adds Duff, "It takes a serious mother to be in this band. It could only be the five of us, nobody else. Ever. If you hang around us long enough, you'll see why!"

Docile as they've proven themselves, there's still a cloud of intimidation following GN'R, especially upon first sight. "Yeah, for some reason," Duff agrees, "we met a guy at a Long Island show. He had records, posters. He was shaking when he asked for our autographs. We said, 'Sure' and he goes, 'No way! I though you'd kick my ass from what I've read!' We're never really rude to anyone unless they're rude first. Then I guess we can be more rude than the average per-son!"

"Fans are paranoid around any celebrity, no matter how big or small," Slash reasons. "Whether it's Springsteen, Billy Joel, or us. The press and some other bands get real nervous about what they think we'll do. To fans, however, meeting a band is a big deal. We're approachable. We never mess with people outright. I just get highly sensitive when someone has an attitude without even knowing us."

In a relatively short time, GN'R has acquired an ever-increasing number of diehard fans, many bearing the band's logo in tattoo form, often following the group from city to city. Members are far from callous in return. "The most difficult aspect of what we do," Slash concludes, "is probably making lobby calls in the morning! The all-time worst is the bus rides; after long nights, sleeping on a bus is unheard of! Anything else is tolerable. We've got to keep on our toes. It's a hurdle, putting ourselves through as much, physically, as we do. But that's mundane stuff. It's really a small price to pay for being able to do what we totally enjoy, and get recognized for it."