FicWad

NOTE: This interview is real

Rolling Stone Interview –What appears in the magazine:

Izzy Stradlin, Guns n' Roses' scruffy rhythm guitarist, is slumped on a dressing-room counter, sullenly draining his second bottle of red wine and testing the wattage of a portable stereo.

Sitting on a couch, trying to talk above the racket, are Axl Rose, the group's singer, and Slash, the lead guitarist. Slash, whose copper skin is still wet from a post-concert shower, is wearing shorts and holding a bottle of Jack Daniels, his only constant companion. Axl is wearing jeans, cowboy boots and a T-shirt that says, WELCOME TO DETROIT, MURDER CAPITAL OF THE WORLD. Axl and Slash are getting increasingly angry with Izzy, who grins obliviously and cranks up the Rolling Stones' "Stupid Girl."

At the base of the wall nearest the door, there is a fresh hole the exact size of Axl's boot. This evening's concert, the last of three mid-August dates opening for Aerosmith at Pine Knob Music Theatre, near Detroit, went so poorly that the band left the stage five minutes early. And when the Gunners don't play well, trouble ensues. While the band members sit in the dressing room, their sound mixer and a bus driver are being fired for alleged incompetence.

Suddenly, there's an explosion. "Violent mood swing!" shouts Izzy, rolling from the counter. A bottle of vodka flies from his hand and smashes against the far wall. "Mood swing!" shouts Axl, leaping from the couch. He grabs a vase filled with roses and pitches it in the same direction.

Just as quickly, Izzy and Axl are seated again. But all that smashed glass hasn't relieved the tension. The bottle of vodka belonged to bassist Duff "Rose" McKagan, who is now without his favorite liquor and is therefore enraged. Slash, too, is pissed at Izzy, who still won't turn down the stereo.

"This is entertaining," says Axl, watching and smiling.

After Slash and Duff have finished yelling at him, Izzy turns remorseful. "Fuckin' Duff, man. I never like to break his vodka. I know he loves that vodka."

Axl: What the World Doesn’t Read

Izzy’s fucking out of it; he’s been out of it through the whole fucking show and our sound guy kept having to turn Izzy’s amps down when he wasn’t looking so the whole show sounded like shit. Slash is good enough that from the audience you probably wouldn’t realize what the fuck was going on but I realize it and as the leader of this band that is not fucking acceptable. I don’t care if it is my own fucking boyfriend that’s causing the trouble. I told him to go snort some coke and sober up a little before the show and he shoved me off of him and told me to go fuck myself because I certainly never fucked him anymore! Like he would fucking let me anyway! Ever since that shit with Nikki and Tommy he’s practically smacked my hands off of him any time I touch him; it doesn’t even have to be a sexual thing, if I even just want to hold his hand he pushes me away.

In fact the only person’s hands he doesn’t push away are Slash’s which pisses me off to no fucking end! I knew Izzy had a thing for the kid but what the fuck is up with the fact that now, after all of the hellish nights I spent holding Izzy in that hospital and no matter that it’s me who has to deal with all of the fucking nightmares and all of the drug use that Izzy uses to numb himself up from everything, Izzy won’t let me anywhere near him unless he needs me to hold him in the dark and tell him everything’s going to be alright. Anyway, Izzy didn’t snort the coke so I kicked a hole in the wall.

But right now if he doesn’t turn that fucking stereo down so we can talk to the guy from Rolling Stone I’m going to kill him. I try and give him annoyed looks so he’ll get the hint. I glare back at him and he just grins at me and turns it up. So he’s doing it on purpose the fucking bastard! I have my arm draped over the back of the couch and I give Izzy the finger behind Slash’s head and suddenly a bottle of vodka flies by my head and crashes into the wall and Izzy’s yelling something about rapid mood swings. Mood swing my ass and I don’t know if he missed on purpose or if he’s shit faced but my guess would be on purpose because he can aim his gun just fine when he’s shit faced.

I jump up and grab a vase of flowers from the table and hurl it in his general direction and yell “Mood swing!” and laugh as Izzy tries to process what just happened but I don’t look back over at him. I notice the stereo quiets down though. But that’s when Duff realizes that Izzy hurled one of his bottles of vodka at the wall and not some undesired random bottle of liquor and he shoves Slash, who is just as wasted as Izzy by this time of night and who has been tipped over into Duff’s shoulder, not quite disobeying the no touching rule, into my shoulder and starts yelling at Izzy. Duff’s already pissed at Izz; I’m not the only one who’s noticed how blatant Izzy’s become in his pursuit of our curly haired kid wonder and I swear the only reason Izzy hasn’t gotten his ass kicked again is because Slash feels sorry for Izz and won’t let Duff beat him up but even the kid has gotten irritated with Izzy hitting on him in front of Duff and causing tension.

Slash has started sticking close to Duff most of the time because I honestly think he doesn’t know what to expect from Izzy. I never told Duff because it would have brought hell raining down on us but I walked around the side of the bus one afternoon and Izzy had Slash pinned up against the bus talking to him and he leaned down to kiss him and Slash pushed him away and pushed past him. I ducked back around the back of the bus before Slash saw me but not before Izzy did. Neither one of them ever said anything about it so I don’t know if I was watching the end of something or an argument or Slash actually not wanting Izzy to touch him because he didn’t seem to mind Izzy touching him a few months ago.

Duff turns around and yells at Izzy “God damnit you demented mother fucker that was my vodka!”

“Sorry man,” Izzy says, “didn’t mean to put my hands on anything that’s yours, we all know how you don’t like that!” Well if that wasn’t a loaded fucking statement…

“Shut up you two! I’m fucked up and my head hurts! Izzy stop throwing shit and aggravating Duff and Duff,” Slash slurs pointing at Duff, “stop yelling in my ear or I’m going to kill both of you!”

I get up and push Slash back into the middle of the couch to grab a beer and step between Duff and Izzy before they kill each other. “Well, this is interesting,” I say to the reporter as I stand up. I give Izzy a warning look and he holds my eyes while he gets up from the counter where he’s been sitting and moves into my spot on the couch. He throws his arm around Curly Sue and pulls him over towards him so that Slash is leaning on his chest and looks over at Duff.

Duff glares at him and asks him “Izzy, how fucking wasted are you right now?” obviously questioning his sanity at so blatantly putting his hands on his boyfriend.

“Dunno, not so wasted so’s that I couldn’t get it up if I needed to, you?”

“Not as wasted as the two of you, sit him up,” Duff says and reaches over, pulling Slash into a sitting position between them, “you know he’ll puke all over you if he lays down when he’s that drunk!” Nice excuse Duff.

“Stop pulling me around you two or I’ll puke from being moved around so much!” Slash mumbles and curls slightly over towards Duff who looks more or less mollified.

Back To The Real Interview:

“Fuckin Duff man, I never like to break his vodka, he loves that vodka,” Izzy mumbles to the reporter.


Just another rock & roll band being assholes, trashing a dressing room?

Not exactly. For Guns n' Roses, outbursts are not merely the traditional way for a rock star to pass the time between blow jobs. The agitation backstage in Detroit springs from the same hair-trigger temperament that makes the Gunners the world's most exciting hard-rock band. They are young, foolhardy, stubborn, cynical, proud, uncompromising, insolent, conflicted and very candid about their faults.

The tension that is part of the band members' daily life compresses their moods and their music until both explode. Except for Steven Adler, their happy-go-lucky drummer, they are willful and combative.

"It's cool that this tension is building up, because it's gotta find its release in the music," Axl says backstage. "If we live that long."

If you don't look any deeper than the band members' tattoos, you might compare Guns n' Roses to Poison, Ratt, Faster Pussycat, Mötley Crüe and any other of the dozens of nearly identical heavy-metal bands currently being pushed by the music industry. The Gunners engage in the same antics, revolving around booze, drugs and women; they trumpet their music as "rebellious"; and they claim to play for "the kids."

But Guns n' Roses don't play heavy metal. They play a vicious brand of hard rock that, especially in concert, is closer to Metallica or to punk than to heavy metal. They are a musical sawed-off shotgun, with great power but erratic aim — they veer from terrible to brilliant in a typical set, often within a single song.

And more important, Guns n' Roses really do play for "the kids." Metal bands base their images on a fantasy life that has no relation to the daily reality of being a teenager. Kids may idolize or envy David Lee Roth, but they have little in common with him. Guns n' Roses are young enough to remember what it was like to be 17: Slash and Steven are 23; Duff, the only married band member, is 24; Axl and Izzy are 26. Axl remains obsessed with the contradictions of adolescence: the unfocused rage and pervasive doubt, the insecurity and cockiness, the horniness and fear.

The Gunners' songs don't hide the fact that they're confused and screwed up. "We know we are," Axl says with a nod. "But we're trying not to be."

U2 manager Paul McGuinness has called the Gunners' success "the most exciting new thing to happen in our business for a while." They have been embraced by the fashionable, and their concerts are invaded by HIGs (the band's sneering code for huge industry giants). Their debut album, Appetite for Destruction, which has sold nearly six million copies, reached Number One on the Billboard charts in early August, having been released a year before. The album succeeded despite resistance from retail chains (some refused to stock the LP because of its gruesome cover art, which was relocated to the inner sleeve for the second cover), from album-rock radio stations and from MTV. Eventually, the media caught up and helped "Sweet Child o' Mine" become a Number One single. But the early support, the support that forced MTV and radio to play the Gunners, came from "the kids."

The week of the band's Detroit shows, USA Today published a frightening story that helps explain Guns n' Roses' appeal. According to a survey, nearly one in seven American teens say they've tried to kill themselves. More than half of the girls polled said they find it hard to cope with stress, and a third said they often feel sad and hopeless. "I Want to Hold Your Hand" can't mean much to these kids.

Guns n' Roses have less in common with metal acts than with rap artists like Public Enemy, which project a lethal toughness while urging self-improvement, and black-comedy gore movies like RoboCop. They also bring to mind the early Rolling Stones, who won a similar notoriety for singing about spite and hostility. And if the Gunners go beyond what the Stones sang about, it's because times are rougher; they are a brutal band for brutal times. Unlike the Stones, they don't keep an ironic distance between them and their songs.

"Our attitude epitomizes what rock & roll is all about," says Slash. "At least, what I think rock & roll is all about, which is all that matters. You know how some bands go out and the whole thing is going completely wrong but they can put on a good show anyway? We're not like that."

He holds up his right hand, which is swollen and welted from smacking his guitar onstage. "We fuckin' bleed and sweat for it, you know? We do a lot of things where other bands will be, like, 'Get the stunt guy to do it.' "
*****
Slash

Oh my god, how did I get stuck on this couch between my boyfriend and Izzy who’d like to be my boyfriend in front of a fucking reporter from Rolling Stone? I’m drunk and high and the lights fucking hurting my eyes and Izzy’s blasting a fucking stereo as loud as he can and I already told him to turn it the fuck down but then Axl had to piss him off so now it’s even louder than it was and then Izzy threw Duff’s vodka against the wall narrowly missing Axl’s head and then he came over and sat down and put his arm around me and pulled me up against his chest! Fuck! Before I could get away though because I can’t move fast enough Duff pulls me upright telling Izzy I’ll puke in his lap if he lays me down when I’m that wasted which may or may not be true and he yanks me back upright. I think that I might puke for a few seconds but then relax as I feel my stomach settle. It’s one fucking thing for Izzy to kiss me when we’re alone but getting drunk and hitting on me in front of Duff? Not cool. I’ve tried to tell him to knock it off and he does when he’s not drunk but when he’s wasted? He doesn’t even remember what he’s done half the time by the next day. He doesn’t remember me telling him he needed to lay off in front of Duff and then him trying to kiss me up against the bus but I dodged him and pushed him away; good thing too because I ran into Axl on my way back around the bus.

The reporter asks me something about where I’d be without the band. I tell him something about maybe dying from AIDS or OD’ing. “We fucking bleed and sweat for the music, look at my fucking hand dude!” I tell him and show him how swollen it is from where I was smacking it on my guitar earlier. Duff grabs my arm and looks at my hand and then at me and asks me if I’m ok and I tell him yeah that it doesn’t hurt.

“Yeah it doesn’t hurt right now because you’re drunk and high as fuck but it will tomorrow and you have to play!” he says to me. “I’ll get you some ice and some Motrin or something.”

“Duffy’sssssssss fine,” I mumble.

“It’s not going to be fine if your hand’s still swollen like that tomorrow, you won’t be able to move your fingers to play!” Duff argues.

“I can move em…see?” I giggle and hold my hand up in his face and try and wiggle my fingers but they don’t look like they’re moving! “What the fuck is wrong with my hand?!” I ask him frantically. “My fingers aren’t moving! Are they broken? I can’t feel my face either! It’s like that time when Stevie and I sniffed glue when we were kids and our faces were numb! Stevie! I can’t feel my hand or my face!” I yell.

A disembodied voice comes from somewhere behind the sofa across from us. “Did you sniff glue or something?” it asks and a girl giggles.

“No! Quit fucking that chick back there and geft out here and help me!” I yell in the direction his and the girl’s voices came from.

“I’m busy, let Duff get you some ice or whatever he said he was going to do! It’s just the smack man! Or maybe it’s the coke, I don’t fucking know! You’re fine!”

Duff gets up to get me an ice pack and I see Izzy and Axl looking at each other with an evil grin on their faces. Axl points at something behind me and Izzy jumps up and walks back over to the counter where he was sitting and grabs Axl’s polaroid camera from where it was sitting next to the stereo he had jacked up a few minutes ago and hands it to Axl who runs to the sofa that Stevie’s behind, leans over the back and takes a picture! Steven yells, the girl yells, and Steven jumps up, still naked, and tries to swipe the picture from Axl who runs over to Duff who takes it and holds it over Steven’s head!

We’re all dying laughing and hooting now and Duff tells Steven “That’s going on the wall of asses!” Give it up Popcorn; you’re like a foot shorter than me man, you’re not getting it back!” Duff laughs.

“What’s the “Wall of Asses?” the reporter asks.

“It’s a wall on our bus,” Izzy pipes up. Oh great, now he wants to talk. “Anytime someone gets caught fucking in a shared area we take a polaroid of their ass in action and put it on the wall! Steven’s ass is up there the most cuz he can’t seem to follow the rule about no fucking where we can hear you!”

“Man, there’s so many times I’ve had sex on that bus and you haven’t heard me!” Steven pouts still jumping up and down, his ass shaking as he does it.

“Stevie! You’re still fucking naked dude! Come one man! Don’t make us look at that! Go back behind the couch before we go blind from the whiteness of your ass dude!” I yell.

“Fine!” he says jumping back over the couch. “But I’m getting that picture back!”

“No you’re not,” Axl says. “Once the ass is photographed it goes on the wall!”

“I can only wonder why it’s up there…” Steven mutters and I shake my head at his stupidity. Steven, you idiot! Axl’s going to kick his fucking ass.

“What did you say fucker?” Axl hisses. Everyone in the room goes dead silent.

“I said, wonder why it’s up there,” Steven repeats from wherever he is. Axl shrieks and goes flying over the back of the couch too and hauls some groupie up off of the floor who’s trying to pull her clothes back into place and pushes the chick out the door! Steven manages to duck under Axl’s arm and grabs the girl’s hand and runs down the hall before Axl can beat the shit out of him!

“Get back here you asshole!” Axl yells and tries to go after him but finds himself being restrained by Duff who passes the angry little hornet over to Izzy. Izzy wraps his arm around Axl’s waist and Axl fights to get away from him but Izzy, either very tolerant or more than likely just as numb as I am acts like he doesn’t even feel Axl squirming around and pounding on his arm. Finally Axl runs out of steam and quiets down. “Fuck you Izzy! I’ve wanted to kill that little shit since he ate the rest of my pizza earlier!”

“Maybe later darlin,” Izzy slurs and lets go of Axl who’s starting to shoot him daggers.
Duff heads back over to me and hands me some ice in a baggy for my hand. “Ok, enough, let’s go back to the hotel bar man, you two can fight it out on the way over there and maybe they’ll have some vodka since Izzy threw mine across the room “accidentally.”

“It was an accident, but don’t worry Duff, I drank some out of it, so I used it once before I threw it back I mean away…” Izzy hisses and Duff lunges at him and Axl and I have to keep them from killing each other until security jumps in a minute later.

Axl drags Izzy off down the hall and I pull Duff up from the floor and stumble backwards into the sofa. “Stop letting him get to you; he doesn’t even fucking know what he’s saying when he’s that wasted,” I tell Duff.

“Stop making excuses for him Slash, he’s being an asshole on purpose, he has been the whole night!” Duff fumes.

“Yeah, he has, but tomorrow morning he won’t even remember,” I try and soothe him.

“Well I will!” Duff growls.

“You might, you might not,” I laugh. “I probably won’t.” I look over at the reporter. “Want to finish this tomorrow?” I ask him. He agrees and Duff and I tell him goodnight and head out into the hallway.

We stumble down the hallway holding each other up and then collapse into the limo that’s driving us back to the hotel. As soon as the door shuts Duff pulls me onto his lap and then ducks his head to kiss me. He doesn’t let up for a while but when he does he sighs and says “Fuck I’ve wanted to do that for hours!”

“Well, by all means don’t let me stop you!” I tell him and lean up to kiss my tired, irritated, but adorable blonde boyfriend. “I love you Duff,” I sigh against his lips.

“I love you too Curly Sue,” he breathes into my neck as he sits back and looks up at me. “Why won’t Izzy sleep with Axl?”

“How do you know Izzy’s not sleeping with Axl?” I ask him.

“Because if either one of them had gotten laid they wouldn’t be so fucking at each other’s throats! I mean I know why but jeez they could at least blow each other or something to relieve some tension…

“We didn’t sleep with each other for a while either after…” I trail off.

“No,” he sighs, “but we didn’t outright ignore each other or fight or hit on someone else instead either! He’s really starting to piss me off Slash; I so wanted to just plant my fist right in the middle of his face a little while ago!”

“I don’t know why he won’t sleep with or do anything with Axl; I’m guessing it has something to do with Axl talking to Erin. But I don’t know for sure because we haven’t talked much lately because I have no idea what to expect out of him when he’s wasted and I don’t trust him not to set me up and jump me right before you walk in or something. It’s gotten weird between the two of you and I don’t like it. Izzy’s pushing everybody’s buttons and I have no idea how far he’ll take that at the moment. But I don’t want to talk about him, want to relieve some tension?” I ask him.

“Mmmm maybe, what’ve you got in mind?” Duff asks.

“Well, it’s a long ride back to the hotel and I’m already in your lap, we’d just have to get naked to make it more fun,” I tell him and lean in to kiss him again, grinding my hips against him. Duff scrambles to comply with getting naked and when we’re both out of our clothes Duff slicks his cock up with spit as I move back over-top of his lap. I reach down and line him up with my opening and slowly sink down onto his cock.

It hurts a little not being stretched out but the way Duff’s eyes roll back in his head makes it worth it. He groans and says “Fuck Curly Sue where did that come from?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted to make you feel better; is this better? I ask him.

“You’re joking right? Your ass is always tight, this is fucking incredible and hot! Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” I whisper and he pulls me down to his lips. His hands move to my hips and I start to move and his hands guide me into a rhythm that feels good for both of us. I lick one of my hands and wrap it around my cock and Duff just watches me; transfixed by the sight of me sliding up and down his dick and stroking myself at the same time. Soon he starts thrusting up into me when he pulls me down onto him and I let out a groan of my own as he hits my sweet spot which encourages him to thrust harder.

“Oh fuck you feel good baby, you going to come from riding my cock baby boy?” he asks as he kisses up the side of my neck, never breaking his rhythm. “I can’t believe you just sat down on my dick and now you’re touching yourself, so fucking hot baby…” he murmurs and his tongue glides over my ear and I whimper.

“Duff, I’m close,” I whisper and grip my cock harder and he thrusts up into me harder every time I slide down onto him. He moans and bites his lip and one of his thrusts drives right into my prostate. I let go before I even plan to and the hand I have on his shoulder grips him tightly and I feel his fingers dig into my hipbones and my ass and he lets out a shout and thrusts inside of me hard, going rigid and then pulling me down onto his cock hard with each upward thrust. “Duff!” is the only word I manage to get out of my mouth in between my own body’s hard spasms. When we’ve both ridden each other to absolute completion I slide off of him and lean down and kiss him. He kisses back lazily, smiling with his eyes closed.

“Tension relieved?” I ask.

“Fuck yeah…I love you baby boy,” he sighs, opening his eyes and smiling up at me.

“I love you too Duffy,” I answer.

“Slash,” Duff says quietly.

“What baby?” I ask him.

“Promise me you won’t fuck Izzy again if he asks you,” he whispers.

“Duff! Where did that come from? I mean I know where it came from but baby did I do something to make you think I wanted to?” I ask him.

“No, but you didn’t before either,” he responds.

Ok, that’s true but not fair. I haven’t even been alone with Izzy. I know he’s just scared though; I would be too probably if things were reversed.

“Look at me,” I ask him softly and he raises his eyes up to meet mine.

I look into them and tell him “I’m not going to sleep with Izzy ok? I already made that mistake once and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you like that again. I love you and only you and I think we’ve come far enough since then that we have a pretty good understanding of the way we both work and the reasons behind a lot of the things that we do; doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt sometimes but I’d like to think that at this point in time you wouldn’t marry Mandy trying to protect me and I wouldn’t sleep with Izzy to get back at you or because I was afraid you wouldn’t love me when I got back so I’d just sabotage it before you even got home. I won’t hurt you like that again ok? Nothing is worth ever seeing that look on your face again! Ok?”

“Ok,” he says softly and cups my face in his hands and pulls me down to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby. We’d better get cleaned up, we’ll be at the hotel soon,” I tell him and slide off of his lap.