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The interview is set for 2:00 PM. At a quarter ‘til, the black hat, cascading curls, and nose ring saunter through the management office’s front doors. The receptionist raises eyes from a computer monitor and is momentarily stuck to her chair. She fights through the inertia of awe and approaches. Her hand is extended tremulously, but Slash ignores the shake and encloses her in a friendly embrace. He sees me sitting on the couch, walks over, and shakes my hand heartily. He even apologizes for being late when he’s 15 minutes early.
This is who Slash is. He understands the importance of keeping business appointments and hugging the people who work for you. Twenty years ago, back in ’87, when he recorded Guns N’ Roses’ debut, Appetite For Destruction, he set in motion the ritual beheading of the ’80s metal hair bands. With Velvet Revolver, he has synthesized the electric blues and R&B raunchiness of the Stones and Aerosmith and almost single-handedly brought about the Renaissance of the Les Paul.
At that moment in time, he made the transition from guitar player to Guitar Player God. With the metamorphosis came perks – engorged bank accounts and burning hot stripper girlfriends. Through it all, though, one thing stayed constant: His love for the guitar. He loves playing them and talking about them, and when we finally made our way to one of the conference rooms, that’s exactly what we did. (more…)
As of this writing it is the wrinkly end to the middle of March (the 21st, for those who hate metaphor) and rumor and tempers are rumbling in the camp of Velvet Revolver. Yes indeed, Velvet Revolver, that bastion of rock ‘n’ roll dedicated to the pursuit of … well, the pursuit of … uh … you know, I’m not really sure what they’re in pursuit of. Slash isn’t hurting for cash, as I’m sure he’s getting a little money out of his Guns ‘N’ Roses tenure. Surely someone distracts Axl with a hunk of chum on a dangling string while someone else spirits away the rest of the band’s dues. And even if that wasn’t so, he must have some kind of back end for his Guitar Hero appearances. Lead singer Scott Weiland, fresh from his zilteenth rehab stint, couldn’t possibly have gotten so ripped that all his funds are gone. Duff McKagan and Matt Sorum shouldn’t be hurting either, so the only victim may be Dave Kushner (who?) and perhaps anyone who spent money on the band’s last bland effort Libertad. The most interesting track on the album (a cover of E.L.O.’s “Can’t Get It Out Of My Head”) wasn’t even theirs, and was interesting only because someone, presumably Weiland, thought it would be brilliant to change most of the lyrics. That alone should have been an indicator that someone wasn’t thinking this outing through clearly.
I actually called it back in October when the sales figures for Libertad started coming in, tellingly on the low end of expectations. Weiland was intimating that a Stone Temple Pilots reunion was imminent and the rest of VR seemed conspicuously absent. I said that it appeared a collapse of Audioslave proportions was on the horizon. Sadly, I was right — for you see, dear reader, I was actually pulling for Velvet Revolver to buck the trend. Sure, their music never truly rose from the uncomfortable mash-up of GNR and STP, but it wasn’t like they had a talent deficit if they tried. I don’t think they tried. As I said previously, they milked the inheritance they had and that was that. When Audioslave splintered, we got Chris Cornell farting up a brown funk and calling it fresh baked cookies and (yuck) Rage Against the Machine reunited. 