By Daniel J. Flynn on 12.10.08 @ 6:08AM
Guns N' Roses' long awaited new album flopped as original band
members moved on, the lead singer grew old, and the fans grew up.
In the biggest letdown since Geraldo Rivera opened Al Capone's
vault, Guns N' Roses has finally released its long-awaited new
album Chinese Democracy. In its first week, it charted
at a disappointing three and moved slightly more than a quarter
million copies in the U.S.
What went wrong?
It wasn't the publicity. An official Chinese Communist Party
newspaper condemned the GNR release as a "venomous attack,"
strangely interpreting the album title as evidence that the band
had shifted "its spear point toward China." Dr. Pepper had
famously promised a free sugary drink for every American should
the legendarily delayed Chinese Democracy find store
shelves by the end of 2008. It did, but America still awaits its
free 23-flavored fizzy beverage. As if all that weren't enough
buzz, there is the train-wreck television of VH1's Celebrity
Rehab co-starring GNR original drummer Steven Adler, of whom
the best that can be said is that he is not Jeff Conaway.
An answer to what went wrong can be found in Stephen Davis's
Watch You Bleed: The Saga of Guns N' Roses. Veteran
rock journalist Davis paints a picture of musicians who were as
much drug buddies as band mates. Guns N' Roses left a trail of
herpes, screwed managers, concert riots, and drug overdoses. The
irresistible image of rock n roll's noble savages, which made
Appetite for Destruction the bestselling debut album in
history, ensured a fall for the band as rapid as its meteoric
rise.
When listening to Appetite for Destruction's odes to
fortified wine, waking up at seven in the evening and going
onstage around nine, and an underage girl whose daddy works in
porno now that mommy's underground, one sensed they knew of what
they sang. Guns N' Roses anticipated the current era in which
"keeping it real" trumps musical talent. Rapper Rick Ross, who
felt compelled to deny past employment as a corrections officer,
and soul singer Akon, who manufactured an elaborate biography as
a prison brawler and maestro of a stolen car ring, would have
paid millions for GNR's street credibility.
Davis informs that before gaining fame as a rock star, rhythm
guitarist Izzy Stradlin was famous among rock's toxic royalty --
counting Aerosmith's Joe Perry and Rolling Stone Ron Wood as
customers of his unlicensed pharmacy -- through his involvement
"in the surge of the Persian brown-colored heroin that had
flooded into the L.A. rock scene." After years of inebriated
incoherence, pasty and bloated bassist Duff McKagan's pancreas
exploded in 1994. Lead guitarist Slash actually died from an
overdose in 1992 before an adrenalin needle brought him back to
life. Drummer Steven Adler got kicked out of Guns N' Roses in
1990 for overindulging in chemicals, which is like getting cut
from the New York Yankees for hitting too many home runs. Singer
Axl Rose's psychopathic outbursts provoked riots from the stage
and lawsuits against him alleged severe physical abuse from
former girlfriends. It makes one wonder if the entire band would
have been better off had the four addict musicians occasionally
shared their drugs with the bipolar singer.
Axl's Hired Guns playing on Chinese Democracy are
dwarfed when juxtaposed with all that history. One actually
played guitar for Britney Spears and N'Sync, while another of
Chinese Democracy's many ax men is best known for
wearing a Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket as a hat -- an image not
destined for Smithsonian cultural iconography à la
Slash's top hat.
The image suffers, but so does the music. The CD sleeve says Guns
N' Roses. The play button says REO Speedwagon meets Elton John
meets Nine Inch Nails. The power ballad, persona non grata on
Appetite for Destruction, overwhelms the new album.
Uninvited guests include Spanish guitars, pianos, and full
orchestration. Other than a faint synthesizer on "Paradise City,"
the sonic formula of the wildly successful GNR debut was
straightforward: guitars, bass, drums -- turned up to eleven.
Appetite for Destruction's raw sound was perfectly
imperfect. As Stephen Davis notes of Appetite's
producer, "He tried, ideally, to limit tracks to a single take.
They called him Mike "That was it!" Clink. His
philosophy was to capture the ferocity of the band in full manic
episode, not tame the music for commercial release." Chinese
Democracy makes the overproduced Use Your Illusion
albums sound like Never Mind the Bollocks Here's the Sex
Pistols in comparison. In contrast to its famous antecedent,
Chinese Democracy bows to trends rather than bucks them.
Worse still, the trends it bows to -- industrial music, crunchy
metal, power ballads -- are no longer trendy. Such are the risks
of spending more than a decade on fourteen songs.
And it is the waiting, as Tom Petty once said, that is the
hardest part. More than the lineup changes, the dodgy music, or
the lifestyle excesses, it is the passage of time that has
ironically ensured Chinese Democracy's failure. Like
Hitler, Axl Rose made audiences wait themselves into a frenzy. In
December 1991, I caught the opening night of a Guns N' Roses tour
at the Worcester Centrum. Following an opening performance by a
little-known band from Seattle called Soundgarden, we waited, and
waited, and waited. The infamous delays had sparked concert
promoters to hilariously prefix ticket show times with "around."
Axl Rose took the stage that night "around" eleven. At the height
of the band's popularity, the tactic attained the desired result
of inciting fans into fanaticism. But seventeen years is a wait
more tedious than three hours.
Axl Rose is roughly the same age as the incoming president. Since
the face of rock-n-roll rebellion dropped off the face of the
earth in the mid-1990s, his reincarnations Tupac Shakur and
Eminem have come and gone too. Fans that had craved Rose's
personification of all that their parents had warned them against
are now parents themselves; and kids who crave a larger-than-life
prototype bad boy don't want one older than their parents. In
Chinese Democracy, Axl Rose takes a curtain call 21
years after Appetite for Destruction, only to find that
the audience that had waited through concert cancellations, arena
riots, and endless delays has finally gone home.