How to Be a Man

by Duff McKagan

  P. J. Harvey, To Bring You My Love: This record took Harvey to another level after her gritty stint with Steve Albini.

  Heart, Dreamboat Annie: These ladies have rocked as hard as anyone—and for much longer than most. I once witnessed manly-man Phil Anselmo sing along to a whole Heart set in Atlantic City: dude even teared up more than a few times. Phil is a real man, and Heart is the real deal to this very day.

  Hellacopters, Super Shitty to the Max: This band’s kick-ass dirty rock and roll from Sweden perhaps saved a brand of music from extinction.

  Jimi Hendrix, Axis: Bold as Love: I found this in my older brother’s stack of records when I was eight. It was sitting all alone without a cover. I put it on and imagined that all things were possible (and realized that I had saved this music from a death of scratches). I still have that disk, and I’ve found a cover for it.

  Billy Idol, Rebel Yell: The punk-rock singer makes it big! Billy Idol has been an important person in my life for as long as I can remember. Musically, he’s always been an inspiration. But, in my dark days, he was a source of strength. He remains a good friend and mentor to this day.

  Iggy and the Stooges, Raw Power: How can you lose here? “Search and Destroy” and “Raw Power” are two of the most dangerous rock songs of all time. This record sets a good tone for a new rocker. It’ll shake out all of that bad taste in rock music. This record should act as a barometer.

  Iggy Pop, The Idiot: I wouldn’t be the one to say this is Iggy’s best record (because there are so many good ones), but this collection of songs may be the fairest representation of the man at a creative high.

  Etta James, The Essential Etta James: I didn’t get into Etta until Black Flag’s Dez Cadena introduced me when I was about thirty-two. She is the soul of soul.

  Jane’s Addiction, Ritual de lo Habitual: I pick this record simply because “Three Days” is among the most mind-blowing rock epics ever recorded.

  Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, I Love Rock and Roll: My old band, the Fastbacks, opened up for JJ and the BH in a tiny club in Seattle just weeks before the single “I Love Rock and Roll” skyrocketed to number one in America. She was cool when she was playing clubs, and she remained cool through it all.

  Elton John, Yellow Brick Road: Such an epic collection of sounds and musicianship. Many a rock road trip has been made easier for me by listening to this record on repeat.

  Joy Division, Closer: I loved this record at first listen as a teenager. Still do.

  Killing Joke, Killing Joke: This is a sinister and mesmerizing study in just how good a band can be. Before there was a label attached to electronic music, Killing Joke invented a genre and mastered it in the same breath. And, yes, this is a breathless record.

  KISS, ALIVE! She’s a Capricorn and I’m a Cancer! While we’re on the topic of KISS, let me tell you something you don’t know about Gene Simmons. He’s a kick-ass dancer. Backstage on a tour of South America with a bunch of top-flight talent a couple years ago, Sebastian Bach plugged in his iPod to a rather large boom box and cranked up some Boz Scaggs followed by Sly and the Family Stone. Gene suddenly appeared and started dancing . . . really well. He did some disco dancing, the mashed potato, the twist, the hustle, and some good ol’ stripper dancing. We all stood rather agape at this spectacle. The God of Thunder has real and bona fide SOUL. Who knew!?!?!

  Korn, Korn: This band’s debut was as groundbreaking as anything since Chuck Berry sang “Maybellene.” Jonathon’s creepy and quirky voice on top of drop C tuning took dark to a different place.

  Mark Lanegan, The Winding Sheet: If you have yet to get a chance to hear any of Mark’s solo records, do yourself the big favor now. The ferocity that is his voice and cracked soul is sure to mesmerize. Trust me on this one. The Winding Sheet is a good place to start.

  Led Zeppelin, The Complete Studio Recordings: Why mess around with just one of Led Zeppelin’s records when you can get the whole deal in one go? This multi-disc musical tome includes live recordings that you’ll be glad you have once you go completely Zeppelin crazy. These guys created the soundtrack to my life in the ’70s, and they continue to be a major part of my musical diet. Seeing these guys at the Kingdome was definitely one of the true rock moments that I have drawn upon in my professional life. I can’t possibly say enough about the rhythm section of John Paul Jones and John Bonham. Shit, man, when Bonham’s drum solo started, I smoked a joint, went to the hot dog line, waited in line, got my hot dog, came back to my seat, and ATE my hot dog, and Bonham was STILL doing his drum solo! Perhaps not as eloquent a picture as I was trying to portray here, but funny nonetheless!

  Marilyn Manson, Portrait of an American Family: I first saw these guys open for Danzig around 1995. Sure, sure, Alice Cooper did this thing in the late ’60s and early ’70s, but Manson and his band were straight creepy and hailed from Florida’s swamplands—citing mass murderers as their influences. Dark. Essential.

  Johnny Marr, The Messenger: Once in a while you get to talk to someone or have an experience that positively readjusts your own view of things. A conversation I had with Johnny Marr (the Smiths, the Cribs, Modest Mouse) on the occasion of the release of his solo debut, The Messenger, was one of those experiences for me. This is a man whose position in rock-and-roll history is secure. A man who could dine out on his considerable back catalog for the rest of his life.

  But he’s restless. He’s not done. This is a man who put out his solo debut when he was forty-nine years old! Johnny Marr is an inspiration, a kid in the candy store of life grabbing as much as he can.

  Johnny didn’t want to talk about whether or not his “old band” was getting back together again, and neither did I. We’ve both been through that before. I wanted to know where his songs came from, where his unmistakable sound came from. I wasn’t disappointed.

  “My family was obsessed with records,” he told me. “So as a little boy, my favorite toy was a little toy guitar. So I had a thing for the guitar much younger than all of my mates. I would think about the shape of it and all of that—it wasn’t for the fame and fortune or getting girls or anything, I really just loved this little wooden guitar as a boy. I would always be upgrading that.”

  This is a man dashing headlong into the still-mysterious and exciting arena of writing new songs and playing with musicians who inspire him. He is as excited about plugging in a guitar now as when he was fourteen years old. When Marr talks about being as inspired to make music today as he was as a kid, there’s honest excitement in his voice—not the blasé and predetermined excitement of some veteran trying to simply “pimp” a new record. Johnny Marr is an original, and a damn fine gent.

  Marr lived in Portland during the Modest Mouse run. He jammed with that band because he was completely mystified about what and who influenced them. His wanderlust for musical exploration leads him just as strongly now as when he was a teen taking trains across Manchester to jam with some dudes he didn’t even know.

  Moving back home to Manchester in 2010 with his wife and family, Johnny got a large dose of the gravity and familiarity of returning to a place of comfort and invention. The songs for The Messenger were born on his trip home. Johnny Marr is the anti–guitar hero: an inventor, an explorer, and a guy who seems to fully “get it” as far as his place in the mix. He is a regular guy with an irregular past—and an uncommon ability to make great music.

  Curtis Mayfield, Superfly: Curtis Mayfield is one of the unsung heroes of the early ’70s civil rights movement. His social commentary by way of song painted a vivid picture of the black inner city. “Freddy’s Dead” is the best of the best.

  Metallica, Master of Puppets: Impossible to pick just one Metallica record, but this one rocks the hardest from front to back.

  Mother Love Bone, Mother Love Bone: This bittersweet record got me through some tough times when I found myself on the losing end of vice.

  Mötley Crüe, Too Fast for Love: This was a rock record that all of us punkers could identify with back in ’81. On the h
eels of Motörhead’s Ace of Spades, TFFL opened up more possibilities for what was next to come.

  Motörhead, Ace of Spades: When I was a youngster and Motörhead’s Ace of Spades came out, all of us in the Seattle punk-rock scene instantly recognized the weight of the band and Lemmy Kilmister, its bassist, singer, and songwriter. They embodied all that was good and great about rock and roll: snarling vocals and to-the-point lyrics. Drummer Phil “Filthy Animal” Taylor pounded the FUCK out of the drums; Fast Eddie Clarke complemented it all with his no-nonsense and very LOUD guitar playing. Motörhead always seemed more punk than metal because they were always in on the joke. Too many other metal bands took it all much too seriously back then.

  When I moved down to LA in 1984, it was the influence of guys like Lemmy, Phil Lynott, and, as I’ve already mentioned, Paul Simonon that steered me to choose bass, back when I was still a somewhat able drummer and guitar player. I was going to Hollywood to sort of “invent” myself, and I chose bass playing as the coolest of the rock-instrument triumvirate because, hell, it was the baddest choice back then (to me at least).

  And it wasn’t just my choice of playing bass that Lemmy and Motörhead influenced. Dare I say that without Motörhead, there would have been no Metallica, GN’R, Nirvana, Alice in Chains, NIN, or everything between and after. Yeah, they mean that much. For proof, check out the documentary Lemmy: 49% Motherfucker, 51% Son of a Bitch.

  There is a moment in the documentary where Dave Grohl states very eloquently what Motörhead means to him and the rest of us in the audience. To paraphrase, Grohl talks about the “humanness” of Lemmy. Boils and all, Lemmy lets us know that you don’t have to be perfect and beautiful and polished to a shine to succeed in this life. Motörhead makes me both exceedingly happy and somehow ashamed. The happy part is obvious in that Motörhead helps us all to exorcise some demons through the art form of balls-out rock and roll. But also, watching the movie and seeing Lemmy progress throughout the film, it dawned on me that this guy has always just stuck to his guns and never bit in to a trend or a new technology, recording-wise. Most of us just sort of naturally change with the times: our style of dress, our take on life and love, the bars we go to, and all. Lemmy has changed nothing, bringing to the fore the fact that he just had it right from the beginning.

  Nashville Pussy, Let Them Eat Pussy: This Kurt Bloch–produced masterpiece shoved a middle finger up the ass of all the band’s pretenders. Greasy and bloody and fun, for sure.

  The New York Dolls, Too Much Too Soon: This record became the bible for bands like the Pistols, the Damned, and the Clash.

  Nine Inch Nails, The Downward Spiral: This is one of the most musically brilliant records ever made . . . ever. Trent Reznor melded technology, melody, anger, tenderness, and mystique into a continuous and digestible epic. The guy somehow finds a way to constantly get better and expand his art to this day. Incredible.

  Nirvana, Nevermind: Since Nirvana was GN’R’s label mate at Geffen, I was able to get a prerelease cassette of this record. I remember driving around LA cranking the fuck out of it. I wore out my cassette and had to get another one. I used to brag to anyone who would listen that these guys were from “my town” and that soon the rest of the world would realize that people didn’t live in tepees in Seattle! Borrowing and perfecting all of the best from the punk-rock bands before them and then adding an angled angst and song craftsmanship of their own, Nirvana simply owned it all, turning on a world full of youth who could relate.

  N.W.A., Straight Outta Compton: There are few timeless rap records from this era, but N.W.A. was more than just a band for the time. They had a message and found the sound to carry it forth. Bad as all hell.

  Outkast, The Love Below: I played bass along to this record every night before we played on VR’s first full summer tour (’04). What an amazing journey this record takes the listener on. Here is to more of this from Andre 3000!

  Pearl Jam, Ten: A record that made personal politics and caring for others okay. Pearl Jam somehow fused kick-ass rock with a Seattle-ness and a PC ethic.

  The Police, Ghost in the Machine: They had us at “Roxanne,” but then this gigantic record came out, and the Police became a worldwide sensation.

  Prince, 1999: A by-product of the fact that I grew up in a very large family and spent much of my teen years in group environments like bands and sports is that I never had a chance to get comfortable being by myself. This caught up to me as I transitioned into adulthood.

  In 1982, when I was eighteen, I went through a sea change in my life. My mom had sold my childhood home, I no longer lived with either of my parents, and I felt unrooted. I could feel the beginnings of the breakup of my first real relationship with a serious girlfriend. There were also drugs cascading into Seattle, and I was losing a lot of close friends to the pull of narcotics. I felt alone for the first time in my life.

  I was a guy who played different instruments in different bands, and a friend of mine who was a big fan of Prince early on turned me on to Controversy and Dirty Mind. He thought I might relate to the genius multi-instrumentalist from Minneapolis. The records were groundbreaking and forward thinking. I was hooked.

  When 1999 came out later that year, I found a respite and safe haven between the grooves of the epic double album. It didn’t matter that the topics of “Little Red Corvette” and “Something in the Water” didn’t directly relate to me and my situations; it was the intent and drama and impossibility of how good this record was that made me start to think that maybe ANYTHING was possible in my own life, too. I could rise and get through all this messy teenage young-adult stuff, with a little help from this record, which became the soundtrack of my life through 1983. When I decided to move to LA on my own, 1999 (by then on cassette) became my traveling companion and best friend. Since then, many records by different artists have become the soundtracks of different eras of my life, but nothing has had such an impact and given me confidence and be-alone and stay-alone capabilities. I owe a lot to this record.

  Thankfully, my need and training for being alone has passed. I am a happy family man nowadays, and I find myself surrounded, all of the time, by my girls, dogs, and stinky rock bandmates. But Prince’s music remains a touchstone for me, and 1999 will always hold a special place in my soul. It gave me strength, and it gave me friendship. It made me work harder for the things I wanted to attain. It was the sturdy vessel that protected me in those choppy and scary waters of my coming-of-age sea change.

  Queen, Sheer Heart Attack: If “Stone Cold Crazy” were the whole makeup of this record, it’d still make this list. But every song of this record is the result of the forging of brilliant song craftsmanship and unmatched musical talent.

  Queens of the Stone Age, Rated R: This record single-handedly saved rock and roll in the early 2000s. This record would have stood up against most in any era, but the timeliness of Rated R was a welcomed relief from the drag and hum of the crap that was going on then.

  The Ramones, Ramones: Do I really have to say anything at all? The Ramones careened into the New York scene with nary a clue of how to play more than three or four chords. But they made those chords rip and count. “Blitzkrieg Bop” is one of the most solid rock songs ever written. The Ramones can never ever be overlooked for their importance in modern rock music.

  Lou Reed, Rock and Roll Animal: This record scared the shit out of me when I was thirteen. I imagined New York as this dirty and terrifying place with heroin on every corner. But something about “Sweet Jane” inspired a hope. Imagery like this is rarely found in recent times.

  The Refused, The Shape of Punk to Come: This is still one of the records I like to spin for the crowd before I take the stage. It’s a jaw-dropping collection of angry and varied music from a group of musicians who were simply masters of their art.

  The Rolling Stones, It’s Only Rock and Roll: When I wasn’t listening to 1999 during my move from Seattle to Hollywood, it was It’s Only Rock and Roll that kept me awake on my nonstop drive an
d kept me company when I was lonely down there in Hell-A. This cassette and my little ghetto blaster were both stolen out of my car a couple of weeks after the move. Ah, welcome to the jungle? (Sorry, couldn’t resist.) This record set the tone for what cool should sound like. “Short and Curlies”? Yeah, she’s gotchu by the balls.

  The Saints, I’m Stranded: Before the Sex Pistols made the genre popular worldwide, there was a little punk-rock band from Brisbane, Australia, writing the songs that would influence so many.

  Sam and Dave, Rhino Hi Five: Booker T and the motherfuckin’ MGs!

  Screaming Trees, Sweet Oblivion: Another great band with Mark Lanegan on vocals, the Screaming Trees put out a bunch of fine records, so get them all. Such a different feel and intent than what was the norm back in the early ’90s, and this record has withstood the test of time.

  The Sex Pistols, Never Mind the Bollocks: This record changed the way we all thought about rock music. NEXT!!!

  Slayer, Reign in Blood: Angel of Death!!! They don’t mince words and they don’t mince the rock.

  Slipknot, Volume 3: If you have time for only one song here, make it “Prelude 3.0,” a dark and beautiful epic song that showcases the power that Slipknot was just beginning to toy with.

  Sly and the Family Stone, Fresh: This album epitomizes what groove and funk are about at their primal best. Take special note of “If You Want Me to Stay.” KILLER!

  Soundgarden, Down on the Upside: This record was the culmination and pinnacle of all of the talent that this group of men pushed and pulled out of each other during their first era. I’m so glad they’re back for round two!

  Spiritualized, Ladies and Gentlemen, We Are Floating Through Space: A great groove album to just sort of mellow yourself out with. I put the title track on when things get a little too hectic in life.