Slash
Slash with Anthony Bozza

For any child of the 80’s and 90’s, Guns N’ Roses defined the culmination of hard rock. I was 16 when I got a copy of Appetite for Destruction, and I knew things would not be the same after that. I mean, who can go back to listening to the facile hits of Poison, or Twisted Sister, or even Mötley Crüe (and I really liked Mötley Crüe) after one has heard the darkness, the hardness, the unprettiness of “Welcome to the Jungle” or “Paradise City”?

GNR really consisted of three excellent elements – Slash’s screeching guitar, Duff/Izzy/Stephen laying down the rhythm of the song, and then Axl’s vocals with his distinctive shriek. I was entranced by it. I listened to it over and over, and enjoyed each song for the little nuance that it would bring.

So it was with some interest that I began to read Slash’s rock bio, creatively titled Slash and co-written with Anthony Bozza. This being only the second rock bio I have ever read (the other was about Mötley Crüe – I told you I really liked them), I was interested to see how it was approached. And it did not take long for the main message of the book to sink in.

The rock-star life sucks. In fact, after reading this book, I don’t think I would really want to be a rock star. Sure, being up on stage in front of 50,000 people who all respond to everything you do would be an incredible rush, but it’s the rest of the time when it would be a drag. Both Slash’s story and the Mötley bio reveal – perhaps unintentionally – the unpleasant side effects of being a rock star.

And there are many unpleasant side effects: needing drugs/alcohol to get through the day; arguments with band-mates over money; performance and creative issues; being on the road for long, long stretches of time; the inability to maintain a steady, normal relationship because of the touring, drugs, groupies, etc; the fact that when you start out, you generally are great friends with the guys in your band, but if you make it big, this rarely stays the case; watching a high number friends die/kill themselves from drug-overdoses, alcohol poisoning, suicide, whatever; the required stints in rehab, and the relapses.

Slash and Bozza have done a good job of making a readable work. Nonetheless, the content is inevitably disappointing, as one discovers that the things that were big in the bands life during a certain period rarely mimic the romantic notions we had when we were fans of that band. For instance, I would’ve loved to have read more about the collaborative process that brought some of the songs together, but that is glossed over a bit so that Slash can talk about his living arrangements and who he roomed with. Not that the latter isn’t interesting, it’s just that I am reading this because of how much I loved the music. It’s not necessarily Slash’s fault, either, it’s just that he associates different things with certain songs than I do. It’s just the nature of the beast.

Yet, the book is still a fun read. There is enough backstage revelation to make the GNR fan happy. There are some incredible stories in the book – mostly having to do with narcotics – that are very entertaining, funny, and weird. Axl, of course, looms large, but the relationships between Slash and Duff and Steven are perhaps more interesting, and less known.

There is also the requisite presentation of Slash’s version of the breakup of Guns, detailing why he felt it necessary to quit when he did, and what he did to try to understand the route that Axl was taking. There is also good narrative on the formation of Velvet Revolver with Matt Sorum, Duff, Slash, and Scott Weiland from STP. For fans of GNR, this books is well worth the price.