GNR First Step Toward Infamy

Raz Cue
January 26, 1986
The Days of Guns & Raz's

Tracii Guns Was Not in L.A. Guns, & Jani Lane Was Plain Jane [My Living Room Wall]

Guns N’ Roses pulled a capacity crowd into the Troubadour on the first Saturday night of 1986. Along with a first-ever opportunity for fans to purchase Guns N’ Roses T-shirts, club goers also heard and felt the “My Michelle” debut. For months, Axl had wanted to use a particular segment from Scarface’s score for the band’s intro music, but he insisted it be high fidelity. The week before this show, he finally managed to get a Beta copy of Scarface and a hi-fi Betamax player at the same time, which he brought to my house so we could dub a cassette. Right before their set, when the Troubadour’s soundman pushed play, that piece of music set an eerily perfect mood of tension and foreboding excitement. Well done, Mr. Axl Rose.

The New Year also brought our city a new “Pure Rock” radio station, 105.5 KNAC. The broadcast signal beamed out from Long Beach – over a hill and far away – so it was hard to lock it in out in the San Fernando Valley. Fortunately, the rest of Los Angeles, and large swaths of Orange County, got their metal loud and clear from the station. Not long after KNAC went live, they began playing the demo’s version of “Welcome to the Jungle.” The airplay positively affected their draw, and within a few months, G N’ R packed two shows on a single night at The Roxy, and a week later turned people away from the Whiskey.

The number of contacts on G N’ R’s mailing list had blown up. With only snail mail back then, and stamps costing twenty-two cents each, it became cheaper, easier, and far more personal to send fans a newsletter with several shows listed. Some words to live by, written across the bottom of one newsletter, have stuck in my head all these years: “Take care, and steal beer!”

I didn’t realize it at the time, but Jani and I shared a birthday, and he didn’t realize that he would be dying on the thirty-first anniversary of me breaking my fucking neck.

In mid-January, Vicky Hamilton promoted her first G N’ R show. I was able to get L.A. Guns onto the Roxy Theatre bill that also included Plain Jane, featuring a pre-Warrant Jani Lane. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Jani and I shared a birthday, and he didn’t realize that he would be dying on the thirty-first anniversary of me breaking my fucking neck. The show was well promoted, with ads and cool pro-style posters plastered throughout Hollywood. Word had it several A & R reps would attend, so G N’ R decided to play earlier than scheduled. It was their show, and so at sound check, when they told L.A. Guns to swap time slots, that’s what happened. I had never seen G N’ R play longer than forty minutes-ish, but the band rocked on for almost two hours, kicking ass and leaving the audience sweaty, drained, and semi-satiated.

L.A. Guns hit the stage in front of a hundred less people than the show’s peak audience. Going on hours later than planned, while drinking the whole time, and then playing to a crowd who had spent their energy on the previous act meant L.A. Guns’ set was laid-back, to say it nicely. But it soon devolved into downright goofy. On a recent Tijuana trip, Nickey returned with a whip and had taken to cracking it at random objects in a show of skill. Halfway through their set, Paul called upon an audience volunteer to participate in a “magic trick.” Nickey then instructed the selected girl to hold out a lighted cigarette so he could whip it from her hand. And she screamed like a Banshee when the whip’s popper struck the back of her hand with a crisp snap. That shit still cracks me up, and none of us could ever figure out why that pretty lil’ blond with a spectacular bubble butt actually let it whip.

After the Roxy show, at least three hundred people partied down at the Gardner studios. From that night forward, the place saw an increasing level of party-fueled debauchery. No show required, another weekend meant another party. All one need do was go see some bands, or drop by the Rainbow and tell folks, “Party at the studio later.” Dudes and dirty-dancing damsels would then come a-running for some drinking and drugging, before stumbling home sometime around sunrise on Sunset.

Before the studio’s parking lot became a regular party scene, the nearby Denny’s was completely dead in the middle of the night, with hardly a wait for our three a.m. low-budget biscuits and gravy fill-up. Those late-night, drunken crowds being drawn to the neighborhood eventually piled into that joint to make it a scene of their own. Thus, “Rock ‘n’ Roll Denny’s” was born, with its long waits for crappy service.

How to Receive Early G N’R Memorabilia.

Head First

My New Perspective

How It Got Started

A Child of Eighteen

I Broke My Air Guitar’s G-String

Lighting C-Notes on Fire

Axl Rose Joins L.A. Guns

The Mike Jagosz Months

How to Spot the Fish

The First Guns N’ Roses Show

The GNR You Know N’ Love

L.A. Guns Starts Anew