Tales Of A RATT (26 page)

Interestingly, the Detonator album was poised to be our Dr. Feelgood. RATT was right on Motley's heels. But, our timing was just a bit too slow.

But the shine fell off that Feelgood penny really fast.

The Nineties hit. Seattle music became huge, and we felt the pain of it almost immediately.

From what I've been told, for all the money Mötley made, several of those guys were really close to going broke. I heard Tommy was in a real predicament when our manager, Carl Stubner took him over. He was two million dollars in debt, and then Carl started all that Tommy campaign shit. I heard that T-Bone made close to $20 million. T-Bone just bought a house for $6.5 million. It's out of this world to contemplate, but I'm happy for the guy.

I remember hearing when Nikki sold his house. Nikki's house was right below Tommy's there in North Ranch. When I went up and stayed with Tommy and Heather, after the "Nobody Rides For Free" shoot, T-Bone was showing me Nikki's house below. It was a 12,000 square foot mansion, and looked like a Four Seasons hotel. His plant lady, that came by his house a couple of times a week to look after his landscaping, was $2000 a month.

That's what my mortgage was!

It was a very flamboyant lifestyle. Lots of private jets and shit like that. Now, I had went on private jets several times, with Tommy and Heather, Alan Niven, and such. But, I couldn't spend my hard earned money on that sort of shit. I just couldn't.

Good thing, because we were all about to hurt, and the higher up you were, the further the distance you had to fall.

The famous shoes that Ozzy shit in.

Me, Stephen, and Ozzy hanging at the Rainbow 1986.

The late Jeff Naidu from Rocket 88(left), Herman Rarebell Scorpions drummer (center), Me.

Me, Tommy, Vince, Stephen racing for Dodge, 1988.

I think back on Robbin, and try to pinpoint where everything went wrong for him. Back when Detonator was happening, Robbin went through rehab. He had gotten some of his tracks done for the album, but not all of them. He was just so out of it. Just fucking smacked out. Drinking and drugs. So, he checked into rehab and we kept working on the record. Warren finished up the guitar tracks for him.

When he got out, we did a twelve-city club tour as a warm-up for the arena tour. He came out on that thing straight. Some guy from AA was out there with him, sort of a baby-sitter, I guess. He was very preachy about it, and of course, we were all drinking and doing our normal thing. But, he seemed okay during that.

Then, when it came time to go to Europe, he started drinking a little bit. Not a lot, but some. By the time we got to Japan, he had started hiding and drinking. He was smacked out of his head, even though none of us saw him break out the kit.

He was out of his mind on stage. What sunk the deal for him was in Tokyo at the Sun Plaza when he didn't change guitars for "Lack of Communication" and "Lay It Down". Those two songs are completely different tunings. You can't just put a regularly tuned guitar on it. It has to be an open D tuned guitar. So, you can imagine how that all sounded. It was a collection of completely different chords.

During the Detonator video shoots, Stephen went through Robbin's suitcase and found a gun, syringes, cocaine and all sorts of shit. He was supposed to be clean, and clearly wasn't. I can see it now, when I watch the Detonator Video Action.

During his interview portions of it, he's completely smacked out. I didn't know what you acted like when you're on that shit, but once I knew what he was like on it, I can look back at that footage and see it.

And that was the end of it. We had to let him go. Robbin never played with RATT again.

He didn't tour on the 1991 arena tour with us. And, as soon as he was gone, then the roles flipped, and battle lines were drawn within the band. It became Bobby and Juan vs. Stephen and Warren. It was only a matter of time before the whole house of glass shattered.

It became a war.

One day we show up to rehearsals for the American leg of the Detonator tour and there's a Hammond B3 organ sitting in the room.

Juan and I had rode over together, and we were like, "What the fuck's that?”

The guy at the studio went, "That's your new keyboard player's.”

"What new keyboard player?”

"I don't know. Some dude that Warren…I thought you guys hired a new keyboard player.”

"No, we didn't.”

Warren gets there, and goes, "Yeah, we're going to use some keyboards on the tour.” Juan and I were like, "What the fuck?” He'd hired this high school buddy of his to play keys for us.

This ridiculous B3 had flowers, and sunshine stickers, all sorts of psychedelic shit all over it! I couldn't believe they were bringing this into RATT. It didn't fit. It was a horrendous combination. The guy stayed for a bit, but we kept him shoved off to the side and hidden off stage.

It was ridiculous.

Warren assuming the role as music director for this band simply wasn't happening. So, we got Michael Scheneker to fill in for Robbin. That worked out pretty well, because he and DeMartini were a good complement to one another.

Even though Robbin and I had been pretty tight all through our days in RATT, I'd had my ups and downs with him; especially with the limelight hogging.

Stephen and Robbin really tried to dominate the spotlight, and Marshall Berle was only encouraging it. He'd have them as the focus of all the interviews and any broadcast opportunity. It really was becoming intolerable for everybody else.

Warren was always our lead guitarist, and Robbin was the rhythm. In the beginning, they tended to switch off a lot, and were billed as co-lead guitarists, but as Warren aged, Beau Hill really started to utilize his lead guitar skills. Robbin started, little by little, to be pushed to the side and out of the lead guitar parts. I think he probably resented that. But, honestly, it was what was best for the band.

When we would be working up new songs, a lot of times, the band would look at Robbin and go, "Why don't we let Warren do the solo on this?”

Robbin's soloing was very melodic and smooth. But, we wanted the razor sharp, flaring edge to the guitar solos. We needed a guitar god. Robbin didn't like it, but he went along.

Robbin's last days with the band were in Japan.

There was a really popular movie out when I bought my boat called Rambo: First Blood. When it came time to name the boat, I was trying to think of names for my boat. My nickname is Blotz, so that had to be part of it.

I couldn't help myself.

Ramboat: First Blotz. That was what I named it.

When I bought my boat, I was this crazy ass rock star; this really flamboyant, attention stealing kind of guy. I had my boat in a slip in the Portafino Marina at Redondo Beach. Keep in mind that the Portafino Inn was where we lived when Pete first moved us out here. Here I was with a 30' yacht, a Cabin Cruiser parked in a slip there.

It's funny, thinking about that, now, I never really thought about that during the entire 7 years I had the boat there. I had come full circle, to an extent.

In any case, that boat was my own floating bar. It was incredible. I was so proud of that thing. Every chance I got, we would all pile in it and haul ass to Catalina Island.

A lot of my best stories are in that boat.

I remember, this was in the summer of 1986, the guys in Def Leppard were in town working on "Hysteria", and we were doing a lot of hanging out. I had been playing them the "Dancing Undercover" record, which wasn't done yet, and they were playing me "Hysteria", which was still in the roughs.

It was all drum machine, which confused the hell out of me. I was like, "Why isn't Rick playing?” I didn't know this, but "Pyromania" was originally done up on a drum machine. It wasn't Rick Allen playing. Normally, when you record a record, they rhythm boys (drums and bass) will come in and lay down their tracks first. Everything else would be built on top of that. But, not with Rick! This was just how he worked. With Mutt Lange, the guys would all come in and lay their guitars down to a drum machine, and Rick would lay his tracks last.

It was completely backwards from anything I was used to, and confused the fuck out of me. But, anyway. Whatever works, right?

I took Steve Clark, Phil Collen, Tommy Lee, and our good buddy Krigger, who was Ike Turner's drummer and also in Gregg Giuffria's band, on my boat for a trip to Catalina. Krigger's nickname was KRELL GAR, LORD OF KRELL! A nickname that I'm sure says it all to you. Robbin used to say his name in this super deep voice of his like it was Darth Vader announcing the arrival. We love Krell Gar! All hail the mighty KRELL GAR!

On a side note, that was one thing we absolutely loved about Robbin. The guy had this deep, booming voice, and he kept telling us he wanted to do voice over work. He had all of these character voices he would drop on us, completely without notice. It was so damned funny when he did! We would laugh our asses off at him. The guy did the best Jabba the Hutt, since Jabba the Hutt!

And now, back to our regular programming… Those guys all showed up, and we're all heading over to Catalina on a beautiful, glassy, sunny day. We were pulling off the cliffs of Palos Verdes, with all the mansions overlooking the ocean. It's an incredible, impressive sight.

We left the slip about 11:00 in the morning, and anyone who boats out here knows that in the morning, the water is always calm. Completely flat. It's like cruising across a giant sheet of glass. It's really great to ride in.

Anyone that goes out there just looks around and thinks, "Thank God I'm on Earth.” It's mind blowing how beautiful it is out there.

So, "26 miles across the sea, Santa Catalina is a-waiting on me", as the song goes. It's 26 miles from the point of Palos Verdes to Catalina Island. It's a little longer going from Redondo to Avalon, because it's at the other end of the island. Probably 39 or 40 miles from our slip.

On that trip, we come across this massive schooner. The thing had five or six masts. It was a giant! It was over a hundred feet long, and had tons of people on board. We just circled this thing over and over looking at it, completely blown away at the size of this fucking thing! No joke, it might have been 160' long.