About two weeks later, I got a call from Mr. Axl Rose himself. He didn’t beat around the bush. Right after a hello, he straight-out asked, “Is L.A. Guns still looking for a singer?”

We met up to have a few drinks and talk about the what’s-what. I pride myself on my negotiating skills, so, poker faced, not tipping my hand, I told Axl about what Tracii said about buying him leather pants. And if that’s what he wanted, we’d keep looking.

Axl scoffed, “I wouldn’t join a band that I wasn’t into even if you bought me a house and car.”

To say I was relieved would be an understatement. I wanted him in the band so bad my wheels ached. Even though Axl wasn’t entirely convinced about Tracii’s stuff being what he wanted to do, apparently Tracii had somehow managed to persuade Axl Rose to ignore his first several Tracii Guns impressions.

I didn’t ask why Rose broke up, just assuming it was because Izzy joined another band. I was curious why he changed his mind about joining the project, and Axl said, “We talked a few times during the last couple of days, and Tracii said he wants L.A. Guns to be more blues-based hard rock, and not the metal crap he’s been doing.”

Axl went on to tell me about how, the night after the rehearsal studio jam while admittedly “wasted drunk,” he left his day planner behind in a phone booth. He said, “My whole life was in that planner, so I quit drinking.” Soon after swearing off drink, Axl went to Indiana to visit family, regroup, clear his head, and decide what his next life-move would be. While there, his folks tried persuading him to move back home by offering to pay for recording engineering school so he might pursue a less risky path of music employment than that of rock ‘n’ roll singer.

Either way, Axl decided to “give it one more shot with L.A. Guns.”

According to him, he gave some serious consideration on taking up the offer to stay in Indiana and enroll in a trade school. He then spoke of an older rocker dude he occasionally saw walking around his hometown, with head hung low and a sad, shuffling stride. Axl described the guy as stylish and charismatic, while possessing an undeniable air of coolness. But Axl saw him as a broken man who never realized his dreams and returned to Indiana with tortured soul to daily regret the decision to give up on his dreams. I have no idea if that person ever really existed, or if Axl imagined what his future would be if he abandoned his own dreams by fleeing back home to mommy and daddy. Either way, Axl decided to “give it one more shot with L.A. Guns.”

I was a super happy gimp, with dollar signs in my eyes, when I said, “I’m glad you finally decided to join. With you, L.A. Guns will be huge.”

Axl and I had always gotten along well, and that day was no exception. Axl was a straight shooter who never held back. It was refreshing to know exactly where I stood, when it wasn’t infuriating. In that regard, Axl and Tracii were night and day. Axl never hid how he felt or what he wanted. Tracii frequently lied through his teeth, while employing manipulative manipulations, and then attempted even more conning just to get what he thought he wanted at any particular moment.

Personality-wise, I felt Axl and I were similar. We both held faith in danger, while encouraging others’ reckless ways. I also lived my life following the template laid out in Van Halen and AC/DC tunes that kept me “Runnin’ with the Devil” along the “Highway to Hell” and eagerly danced the “Sinner’s Swing” while “Waiting Around to be a Millionaire.” From the very first note I was blessed to hear from Axl’s platinum pipes, I knew if I could front a band, he was the singer that I’d hope to be.

I’ve always got music playing in my head, and I broke my fucking neck mere months after learning to play guitar. Paralysis ended my teenaged dream of rocking the world’s stages, all the while sampling a sweet girl in every town along that road. So there I sit, spaz-rocking out and singing full-throated in the car next to yours at red lights. Yes, I’m that guy. It might have you laughing at times. But remember, those who don’t dance should never make fun of those on the dance floor. My whole involvement in the music business was obviously due to me not having what it took to be a performer, so I bought a big boat and tried to sail right up next to it.

The W.A.R. man was not only an outstanding singer and phenomenal frontman, he also possessed an extremely witty and quite a sarcastic sense of humor. A warped worldview, combined with superior intellect, allowed him to get even the obscurest referenced innuendo spit out by your humble gimpy historian. He laughed at my jokes. I’d bet the reason he mostly keeps that shit to himself nowadays is due to the small but loud group of malicious trolls, lurking ever ready to take things the wrong way to fit into their preconceived notions’ narrative so they can bitch, bitch, bitch. You know, the boring, literal fucks of inferior intellect who wouldn’t know a joke if it walked into a bar with a priest, a rabbi, and a satiated Tijuana donkey. But that’s what she screamed! Sadly, for too many folks, the tiniest ripple of perceived hate is the first thing noticed within an ocean of love.

Axl brought several of his Hollywood Rose songs to L.A. Guns and also penned lyrics for a handful of songs that Tracii and Mike co-wrote during Pyrrhus days of yore. But when it came to collaborating on new material, Axl soon grew frustrated with Tracii’s passive refusal to work on Axl’s ideas. He’d sing, hum, and clap-stomp money-melodies with dangerous rhythms, trying to relay his superior ideas to Tracii, who’d then play a totally unrelated riff in a different key and tempo.

After several days’ worth of ongoing collaboration frustration, Axl invited Izzy to the studio to hash it all out and show Tracii the song playing in his brain. About two and a half seconds after Izzy plugged in, their musical communication was clear and evident. Axl sang a melody, and then Izzy said, “Like this?” and got to strumming.

Axl perked up with a happy smile and said, “Yeah that’s it. Now on that part…” It wasn’t long before the two had the whole tune worked out. In about ten minutes Izzy brought to life a song Axl spent fruitless hours trying to communicate to Tracii.

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