Axl only had one guitarist in mind. But Izzy expressed a desire to explore all options, in hopes of finding an older, more established musician. Axl remained steadfast and eventually convinced Izzy to at least invite Slash over to talk music, and perhaps those two might play some guitar together. The day after that get-together, Axl happily reported of his plan’s rousing success. Izzy was floored by Slash’s talent, and a quick meeting turned into those two jamming through practice amps in Izzy’s living room for most of the day.
Slash played in Black Sheep at the time, so his gear was already at Wilpower Studios when he arrived for his first Guns N’ Roses rehearsal. Steven Adler was at his side, eager to audition for the vacant drum position. By sheer luck, his drum kit was already there. I thought Steven was the obvious choice to replace Robbie. He knew most of the songs, looked great, and was lightyears more stoked about Guns N’ Roses than anyone will ever be. Something Ole once told me remains stuck in my head after all these years. He said, “If the drummer has a boring personality, the band will be boring.” Ole was making a case for having a charismatic wild man on the skins, and Steven was a wild motherfucker with loads of personality.
It wasn’t an automatic deal that Steven Adler joined Guns N’ Roses, merely an audition. When done, he packed his gear and split. After he hit the road, Joe set up Steven’s kit again so the guys could audition a few other drummers. There was a dude, Chain, who Axl really dug and insisted on hiring. Izzy steadfastly refused to play with him, and almost quit G N’ R over it. At some point, Chain told me, “I don’t think Izzy likes me.”
I said, “It’s worse than that.” To keep everyone calm, some diplomatic maneuvers were employed. All agreed that Steven would play the next show, but G N’ R would keep searching for a drummer.
When Poison’s manager, Vicky Hamilton walked up to ask if I knew who Black Sheep’s guitarist was, I said, “That’s Slash, he’s going to be in Guns N’ Roses.”
A week before the first performance of the most fondly remembered Guns N’ Roses lineup, Axl and I went to the Country Club for Slash’s final Black Sheep gig. Except for a few rehearsals, I had never before watched Slash play live. I knew he was good, but in front of an audience, he performed on an entirely different level – cool, aggressively loud, and in my heart I understood every sweet ‘n’ nasty note that sang out from his B.C. Rich Mockingbird with a hundred times the passion of anything I’d witnessed at rehearsals. When Poison’s manager, Vicky Hamilton walked up to ask if I knew who Black Sheep’s guitarist was, I said, “That’s Slash, he’s going to be in Guns N’ Roses.”
She smile-drooled. “I love Slash.”
On D-Day 1985, a crowd just shy of two hundred witnessed the first Guns N’ Roses show featuring Slash and Steven. Those two spent their youth mere miles from the club, so plenty of family and childhood friends attended the gig. It had only taken G N’ R three shows to transform into a standing-room-only band, so the club hurriedly pulled tables and chairs from the showroom as more folks clamored in. Unlike their first few Troubadour shows, lots more folks actively rocked out, danced, and gave full-throated cheers.
I loved it when Axl sounded as though he was shredding his vocal cords on a rusty cheese grater.
The show was lightyears beyond any G N’ R had played before, and it was extremely well-received by the amassed crowd. Tracii and Robbie who? There were a few songs added to the set list. I can’t remember why, if Tracii never learned it or Axl didn’t like the way he played it, but that night, they kicked my ass for the first of many times with a Hollywood Rose tune, “Reckless Life.” I loved it when Axl sounded as though he was shredding his vocal cords on a rusty cheese grater, so that’s one of my favorite G N’ R songs. In another change, “Mama Kin” replaced Tracii’s preferred “Sweet Emotion.” The rest of the set was the usual stuff already in the set list.
If you see pictures of those early shows, Slash played through a Marshall half stack, which I had loaned him. At one point in time, I was Tracii’s biggest supporter and fan. It wasn’t hard to imagine him being pissed knowing that high-school-nemesis Slash was playing through gear he once enjoyed unlimited access to. Add to that, Tracii’s former manager and entire road crew were in G N’ R’s camp. Destined to become a has-been after barely making it, Tracii Guns was technically quite the skilled guitarist, but Slash possessed more soul in his pinkie finger than Tracii could ever dream of imagining. Even if he were locked for a decade inside the Motown vaults with a record player, a thousand gallons of moonshine, and a guitar.
Axl was over-the-moon ecstatic about Izzy and Slash playing together in his band, but still wasn’t sold on Steven. Not just because he was willfully outspoken, mostly a no-no for drummers. Or even his exuberance at times affecting his meter. He also lacked subtlety, much like the golfer who hits a three-hundred-yard tee shot that lands ten feet from the pin, then proceeds to hit a three-hundred-yard putt. Steven had one level: loud. Fortunately, the world loves drummers that pound the motherfucking shit out of their drums. Dynamics are for gay drummers. It was always a blast to watch Steven play, and abundantly obvious there was no other place in the world he’d rather be than behind his kit, jamming with those guys. His energy was contagious, and right from the very beginning, Steven often said, “Guns N’ Roses isn’t a band. It’s a way of life.”
