by Mick Wall
By the time Friday, 1 April, rolled around, it was no longer a secret that Guns N’ Roses would make their first appearance onstage since the reunion was announced, an official announcement being made that morning that a reconstituted GN’R would be playing that night – not at the Whisky, but at the Troubadour, the same club where they had made their live debut back in 1985. It was instantly the hottest ticket in town. And it wasn’t the only big news. As predicted by Billboard, the band would be kicking off a 21-date US tour, dubbed – with knowing irony – the Not in This Lifetime tour, referencing one of Axl Rose’s old quotes from the days when a reunion looked like it would never happen.
Hours before the announcement went out, clued-in fans were queuing outside the old Tower Records shop – now a Gibson Guitar show room soon to be fitted up with all manner of Guns memorabilia. By 4 a.m., there were already more than a hundred people waiting in line for one of the 250 $10 tickets. On the night, it seemed like all of Los Angeles had descended on the 400-capacity club. The 250 ticket holders were matched by music industry insiders and a sizable celebrity faction, including the actors Nicolas Cage, Jim Carrey, Bradley Cooper and Kate Hudson, Eighties’ comedian Andrew Dice Clay and musicians Lenny Kravitz and Lana Del Rey, plus countless liggers and hangers on. Even before the band came on, the atmosphere could have charged the whole of the West Coast. Then, just after midnight – an hour later than advertised but a lifetime earlier than anyone could have anticipated – Guns N’ Roses finally hit the Troubadour stage. Slash and Duff, both in shades, were first out, flanked by Frank Ferrer on drums, Richard Fortus in Izzy’s place, Dizzy Reed there as always, and a mysterious new member, Melissa Reese, also on keyboards – a model and musician who had previously worked with ex-GN’R stickman Brian ‘Brain’ Mantia. Followed by – yep, it’s him! – Axl Rose, looking the closest to his ‘old’ self that he had done for 20 years.
Any doubts about the legitimacy of the 2016 model of Guns N’ Roses were answered within seconds. Axl was unrecognizable compared to the wheezing, ungainly figure he’d been for the last few years: lean, in-your-face and sporting a full head of shoulder-length hair, he was as close to the whirling dervish of old as you could expect a man in his mid-fifties to be (those sources who said he’d been hitting the gym were clearly on the money). Slash and Duff, by comparison, looked exactly like they always did: the former a human cartoon in lived-in T-shirt and top hat peeling out all those instantly recognisable riffs, the latter a human sinew anchoring the chaos around him.
The ferocious opening one-two of ‘It’s So Easy’ and ‘Mr Brown-stone’ instantly transported the crowd back in time 30 years, followed by Axl bellowing, ‘Do you know where the fuck you are?’ as Slash stood on a stage monitor and sliced away at the riff to ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ like an assassin doing his dirty work. Any notion, though, of this being a pure retro trip were dispelled three songs in, when Slash and Fortus cranked into a razor-wire version of ‘Chinese Democracy’ – yet more proof that maybe the mutual respect was back. Inevitably, they leaned heavily on the hits: ‘You Could be Mine’, Dylan’s ‘Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door’ and McCartney’s ‘Live and Let Die’, and the undying ‘Sweet Child o’ Mine’, which found several members of the audience sobbing, plus a few deep cuts: ‘Double Talkin’ Jive’ from Use Your Illusion I, covers of The Damned’s ‘New Rose’ (from The Spaghetti Incident?) and The Who’s ‘The Seeker’. There was even a second Chinese Democracy track, ‘Better’, in which Slash silenced the doubters. No, there wasn’t a lot of interaction between Slash and Axl up on the stage, but then there never truly was.
In the main, the performance answered some key questions. There was no Izzy, not even for a fleeting appearance, nor was Steven Adler behind the drums (it turned out Adler was lined up to play, but had injured his back). But to the 400 crazed people in the crowd, the ‘who’ and ‘what’ of it hardly mattered. Guns N’ Fuckin’ Roses were back with a bang that echoed around the world.
There was just one cloud to this silver lining. A week after the event, the day before they were supposed to play their first official comeback show in Vegas, Axl announced via Twitter that he had broken a bone in his foot after slipping from the stage at the Troubadour gig. ‘This is what can happen when you do something you haven’t done in nearly over 23 years,’ he tweeted, posting a link to a short video of his doctor explaining the damage and, more crucially, assuring fans that the show would go on. ‘He’s having a set designed for the stage so he can perform for everyone still,’ the doc said.
What happened next was proof that Axl Rose in 2016 was a world away from the Axl Rose of yesteryear. Where once the show would have been blown out without a second’s thought, he knew the eyes of the world were upon him like never before. Rather than scupper things before they’d even properly started, Axl came up with a plan that bordered on genius.
In the summer of 2015, the Foo Fighters’ frontman, Dave Grohl, had fallen from the stage at a show in Scandinavia, breaking his leg and leaving him unable to perform standing up. Inspired by the TV show Game of Thrones, Grohl commissioned his own ‘Iron Throne’ of guitars, allowing him to perform sitting down. It was that very same throne that he now offered to loan Axl.
Despite the bizarre spectacle of Axl seated for the entire performance – not that it prevented him from changing hats at different intervals, the items brought on by various under-clad young ladies – the Las Vegas shows that followed were a full-blown triumph. With Axl seated regally on his throne, it was left to the rest of the band to bring the party, which is precisely what they did. If the Troubadour was warts-and-all, this was GN’R on the scale everyone was used to seeing them. It all boded well for Coachella.
But there was one more twist to come. A few weeks earlier, Aussie rock legends AC/DC had announced that their singer, Brian Johnson, had been forced to step down mid-tour due to career-threatening hearing problems. Rather than cancel their shows, the band announced that they would reschedule their US tour later in the year with a guest singer.
Almost immediately, rumours began to swirl that it would be Axl stepping into the breach. On paper, it looked ridiculous. Why would a man who had dedicated his life to Guns N’ Roses moonlight with one of the few bands who were as big, if not bigger? Not least at the very moment he was engaged in putting his own situation back together? While sitting down!
Nothing about it made sense – with so much riding on the Guns N’ Roses reunion, surely this was not the time to be gone fishing? But the rumours began to gain weight. The US DJ Jason Bailey claimed ‘a very good source’ had told him that Axl would indeed be joining AC/DC. A few days later, photos emerged of Axl leaving a venue in Atlanta – the same city where AC/DC’s tour had ground to a halt. He was reportedly there to rehearse with the Australian band. Then, on the very morning of the band’s first Coachella show, AC/DC released a statement confirming Johnson’s exit and announcing they would indeed finish off the tour they started – with Axl taking Johnno’s place. ‘We are fortunate that Axl Rose has kindly offered his support to fulfil this commitment,’ they said simply.
So it was true. Axl would be pulling double duty with Guns N’ Roses and AC/DC. The most reclusive rock star on the planet was suddenly its highest-profile one. Depending on how you looked at it, the timing of the announcement was either lousy or a PR masterstroke. With Guns N’ Roses set to play one of the world’s biggest festivals a few hours later, it instantly undercut the impact of the reunion. If Axl could be lured away to AC/DC this easily, just how dedicated was he to GN’R? On the other hand, it cranked up the interest surrounding what was already the most hyped reunion of the decade even further. Whatever Slash and Duff were thinking, they weren’t letting on. Word was, they’d already reconciled themselves to staying out of whatever craziness Axl got himself into on this tour. As long as he still turned up on time – or near as damn it – for their shows, everything would be cool, baby. That’s what they told themselves anyway.
When the
band took to the stage at Coachella that evening – just seven minutes late – it was with all the requisite blood and thunder they could muster. Once again, Axl ruled the roost from his chair, as a crowd of close to 80,000 people – many of them too young to have seen Guns N’ Roses first time around – finally got to see what all the fuss was about. They had one more surprise up their sleeve. ‘Since I can’t run around for you,’ announced Axl from his throne, ‘we’re gonna bring out a friend, put a little life into things for us.’ Suddenly, Slash was joined by AC/DC’s guitarist Angus Young, clad in his trademark schoolboy uniform. Young launched into an electrifying version of AC/DC’s ‘Whole Lotta Rosie’, a tune that Guns N’ Roses themselves had covered in their early days. If anyone had any doubts about either the politics of the situation or Axl’s ability to step up to the plate as AC/DC’s frontman, this dispelled them.
The second Coachella appearance a week later lacked the surprise factor of the first, but it was important in one key way: the band arrived on stage precisely on time. Something that boded well for the upcoming tour. But, then, the Axl of old was gone. This was the new, improved W. Axl Rose: punctual, forgiving, humble. At least, that’s the way it seemed for now. ‘It’s going to be a much different tour than it used to be,’ Arlett Vereecke predicted in Classic Rock. ‘It’s going to be a totally different situation this time because everybody is sober. Axl is still having a drink here and there, but Axl was never a big drinker before. Duff and Slash are totally sober. It’s going to be interesting to see how long they can actually get along, all being sober.’
More pertinently, sources close to the band suggested that the band – or at least some of them – had already entered the studio to work on future material even before the reunion was publicly confirmed. ‘I know they’re doing some recording,’ confided Vereecke. ‘They’re definitely doing something there in the studio. Axl hasn’t been there, but Slash is definitely in there and it’s not for anyone else.’
How Guns N’ Roses’ future pans out is anyone’s guess. A band that once thrived on unpredictability still has the capacity to fly off the rails. This tour may be rooted in the past, but the people involved aren’t likely to get hung up on nostalgia for too long. ‘There has to be an element of creativity,’ says Alan Niven. ‘Guns N’ Roses is about a spirit, about individuality. It can’t just be purely fiscal. It must be about legacy. After all, you don’t see many hearses with luggage racks.’
In the wake of Coachella, Axl found himself in the peculiar position of being the most in-demand and high-profile rock star on the planet. After years of intermittent public appearances onstage and off, here he was pulling double duty with two of the biggest bands out there. The once famous recluse was now everywhere. The fear was that the Guns N’ Roses reunion would be reduced to a sideshow by the announcement that he would be replacing Brian Johnson in AC/DC. To compound matters, the first batch of ten European dates would take place less than a month after GN’R’s triumphant comeback. Suddenly, the reunion of the century had been superseded by something nobody could have predicted.
Not everybody was blown away by the idea of this Frankenstein’s Supergroup. Roger Daltrey, the bullish singer with The Who and a friend of Brian Johnson’s, couldn’t have been more sniffy. He griped that AC/DC had treated his friend badly, not least in the way it was announced. When he was asked if he’d go and see the Axl-fronted AC/DC, he snorted dismissively. ‘Go and see karaoke with Axl Rose? Give me a break.’ It was a view shared by many longstanding AC/DC fans. At least, until they got a chance to check out exactly what Axl and Angus would be like together onstage. The press swiftly – and sneeringly – dubbed this ungainly hybrid ‘Axl/DC’, and bemoaned the way Johnson had been unsentimentally dumped on the scrapheap. They wondered how one of the most livewire bands would cope with a man who was confined to a chair onstage and off. It would, predicted the Cassandras of the music press, be an unmitigated disaster. Meanwhile, ageing rockers fulminated on Facebook about how Angus Young was ruining the legacy of a once-great band, about how they would be boycotting these gigs, about how Bon Scott would be turning in his grave (ironically, oblivious to the fact that Axl Rose was the biggest Bon Scott fan around). People began clamouring for refunds – they wanted AC/DC, not Axl/DC.
For possibly the first time in their career, AC/DC picked up on what was going on outside their walled bunker. In early May, the tour’s promoters announced that they would be offering money back to anyone who wanted it. ‘The band made a decision to offer this,’ said a spokesman. ‘As they care about their fans and wanted to do right by them, they instructed local promoters to offer refunds.’ While it was hardly a ringing endorsement of Axl/DC, it was also a masterstroke in damage limitation – though the band must have gulped nervously when it was announced that 7000 people had asked for their money back for a show in Belgium. In the UK, it was reportedly even worse. Rumours began to circulate that half of the people who had bought tickets for the show at London’s Olympic Stadium had asked for a refund.
But the opprobrium directed towards AC/DC, and Axl in particular, was more than balanced out by the sheer novelty of it all. It’s not often that the biggest rock’n’roll band in the world outside the Rolling Stones rope in the most talked-about rock singer ever. This was genuinely once-in-a-lifetime stuff. At least, it was unless things weren’t as they seemed in the Guns N’ Roses camp. Rumours circulated that the fences hadn’t truly been mended between Axl and Slash, and the pair were barely interacting, let alone speaking. After all the hullabaloo of a month earlier, the Guns N’ Fuckin’ Roses comeback was in serious danger of fizzling out. Certainly the singer seemed more dedicated to making the Axl/ DC project work than keeping momentum going with the band he’d just put back together. For a man who spent the best part of two decades keeping as much distance between himself and the press as possible, he was suddenly inescapable. Fan-filmed footage appeared of him hobbling through airports or leaving hotels, even talking to members of the general public. All of this without getting into a single fight with anyone.
This unlikely charm offensive even extended to a short promo video released a few days before the Axl/DC tour was due to kick off in Lisbon, Portugal. Perched uncomfortably on high chairs in an anonymous backstage room somewhere, Axl and his new AC/DC bandmates Angus Young and the bassist Cliff Williams attempted to sell the upcoming tour to the world. All three looked like they’d rather be somewhere else as they tried manfully but ultimately unsuccessfully to big up the dates. ‘Lisbon, here we come,’ croaked Angus Young, like a man who had only just been told they were playing in the Portuguese capital in a few days’ time. ‘We’re really excited to be here in Portugal. We’re here to give you a great rock show, so we hope to see you there.’ Axl’s contribution was even less edifying. ‘Absolutely,’ he added, forcing a smile for the camera. ‘We’re very excited to be there.’
If anything, the 30-second clip showed that AC/DC should never be allowed near a film camera. But, in a peculiar way, it was revolutionary – it was unlikely that they would have ever done anything like that with Brian Johnson. Or that Axl would have countenanced anything similar with Slash and Duff. But then there were still tickets to sell. A great many of them, for both bands.
Much more revealing was Axl’s interview with the BBC. Talking about how the AC/DC gig came about, he explained: ‘I called the day I read about it in the news, that there was a situation going on with Brian’s hearing. I called a guy who’s their production manager right now … because I knew there was going to be a problem with having dates on sale and dates sold and stuff like that. So if I could help and if I was able to do it and they were interested, I’d love to help. And that’s how it started. I wasn’t looking at it like, “I’m singing for AC/DC.” I was looking at it like, if I can, and they think I’m able to do it.’ The new, improved Axl even found time to crack a joke. ‘It started out pretty good and it’s gradually gotten better,’ he said. ‘I’m hoping to make it through the first
show before I get fired.’
Axl/DC had decamped to Lisbon for two weeks of rehearsal before the first show, on 7 May. Fans outside the venue recorded Axl and his new bandmates running through AC/DC classics such as ‘Back in Black’ and ‘Highway to Hell’. People were grudgingly forced to admit that it sounded great, even through thick concrete walls. Come the day of the show, though, the omens didn’t look so good. The Passeio Marítimo de Algés on the banks of the Tagus River had been pelted with torrential rain all day – even the Big Guy Upstairs was apparently not keen on the idea of Axl/DC. But less than an hour before show time the rain cleared up, the clouds dispersed and the sun began to beat down. ‘It’s turned into a nice sunny day,’ were Axl’s first words to the 50,000-strong crowd. ‘Nice to meet you.’
What followed was a revelation. Not only did Axl banish any doubts, but he did so with such conviction that Brian Johnson was swiftly forgotten. This wasn’t so much karaoke as the ultimate fan-boy dream made flesh, with Axl the happy camper at the centre of it. Even seated on his ‘throne’, his charisma and energy seemed to galvanise Angus Young. As Axl yelped and hollered his way through a set that mixed AC/DC staples with the odd surprise – namely ‘Riff Raff’, a song they hadn’t played live in decades – Angus seemed to slough off the years. This wasn’t just the Angus show. This was the Angus’n’Axl show.
The reviews were unanimously glowing. ‘Rose, who is familiar with both malevolence and misanthropy, delivers those songs perfectly, giving them fresh menace,’ said the Guardian. ‘Performance hinted at the new union’s potential to be one of the touring hits of the summer,’ added Rolling Stone. The tour rolled on, and those fans who asked for refunds were suddenly regretting their decision. Within ten days, Axl was out of his chair, back on his feet and adding more songs AC/DC hadn’t played in years – or, in the case of the Bon Scott-era classic ‘Touch Too Much’, had never played before. Whatever the initial reaction had been, the fact was that Axl had unexpectedly given AC/DC a new lease of life – while at the same time lifting his profile higher than it had arguably ever been. Nasty, foul-tempered Axl now seemed just a memory, to be replaced by good-time, high-five Axl. ‘For the first time in my life I’m looking at the guy and he looks incredibly happy,’ says Doug Goldstein, ‘and therefore I’m incredibly happy for him.’
