My name is Alan Niven. I am going to tell you some stories. Random rock’n’roll stories. Populated by an interesting cavalcade of characters. Among them are Guns N’ Roses.
I took them from the gutters of Sunset Boulevard to Wembley Stadium. I took Great White from the backwater clubs of Orange County to Wembley Arena. Along the way we all joined the parade of misfits and madmen that strut and fret their hour upon their stage.
Every story paints a picture. Of personality. Of an event. I hope that at least they will amuse. At best they might contain the germ of wisdom’s insight.
“Hey, Albert Collins is playing tonight. Wanna go with me?”
I readily accepted Slash’s invitation. As a general but imperfect rule, I did not party with band members. To retain respect there has to be some degree of separation. Besides, I was a family man, I had kids. Our house was a coke-free zone. At least when I was home.
Izzy and I would spend time together on the road. He always had an idea for an adventure – “Hey Niv, wanna rent an airboat and go looking for gators?” Or “Niv, there’s this place in Lower Manhattan called the Hellfire Club. Will you take me?” I took him to the JuJu shop, Barringtons, in New Orleans.
After the Donington tragedy we hung out together in London. We rented Harleys in Lafayette and explored the country roads. We took our own bikes through the hills behind Malibu. I took him to dinner at Studley Priory, England, where they filmed A Man For All Seasons. You get the picture. Socialising with the others, however, was not that commonplace. Of course, [Great White’s Jack] Russell was an entirely different story.
But a night out with just Curly was a rare treat.
“Wanna go get a drink at the Palace?” he asked at the show’s conclusion.
“Sure.”
I lost him in the bar. I turned around and he was gone. I went up to the VIP room. No Slash. I checked the dance floor. Not there either. Not in the gents. Not in the foyer. About to call it a night and go home, I realised there was one place I had not looked. I went into the girls’ bathroom and there he was. Sat on the floor, against the wall, his eyes at hemline, nursing a bottle of Jack with a wicked smile stretched across his face.
“Well, you seem to be getting your evening sorted,” I observed. “I’ll head on home.”
“Nah. Let’s go up to the house.”
I should have realised he had something on his mind, given he was forgoing the short skirt parade.
I had a slight misgiving. His house is full of snakes. I hate snakes. They were behind glass in the john where he had replaced the drywall. The fuckers would eye you up as you took a jimmy riddle. Taking a crap was out of the question with a huge anaconda breathing down your back. I would rarely be in Slash’s home, so it was impossible for me to feel relaxed there.
One night, driving down Sunset, I was in great need of a piss. I pulled up to the apartment he then had and asked if I might take a leak.
“Bathroom’s through the bedroom to the left,” he called out.
The bedroom was in complete darkness. Stepping into it, I froze.
“Slash, have you got a snake in here?”
I could smell it.
“Yeah. Don’t mind Clyde.”
The last thing I wanted to do was take another step. All my bodily functions went on hold. I’d find somewhere else for relief.
There was the obligatory pile of Peruvian on the table. We talked. And talked. We inspected his model dinosaurs. He showed me a new guitar. Night turned to day and back to night. Friday became Saturday. Eventually we got to the matter on hand.
“I can’t stand some of the new material.” Slash was referring to the Use Your Illusion compositions. “I just don’t get some of Axl’s songs.”
We would eventually lose Stevie due to his inability to connect to long pieces like Coma and Estranged. In general, according to Slash and Izz, Stevie was having problems remembering his parts in playing the songs the same way twice.
![GUNS N' ROSES • Dust N' Bones [720p HD Full Album Version] ♫ gMiXx'D ♫ - YouTube](https://img.youtube.com/vi/4QnVlbLAEDE/maxresdefault.jpg)
“Well, you need to talk with Axl about this. I know Izzy has some misgivings, and I would suspect that Duff ’s punk sensibility would too. You guys need to sit down and discuss it.”
I had no desire to be a part of such a conversation. I knew Axl would see me as meddlesome. In his way. Increasingly, Axl was exerting control. It was his band, as far as he was concerned. I had always thought Izzy to be the key member. Dust N’ Bones remains my favourite track from this release. Driven by Izzy’s vernacular lyrics, it’s cynical. It’s simple. It grooves. Pure Guns N’ Roses.
“That’s not going to happen,” said Slash. “Y’know, my dad has a cupboard full of gold and platinum records, and he doesn’t have a pot to piss in.”
Tony Hudson was an artist, a designer. He was responsible for record covers by Neil Young and Joni Mitchell.
“I’ll make the compromises that keep the cheques coming.”
The words landed like bunker-buster bombs. At that moment I knew we were all at Axl’s mercy. He now had the reins, and whatever sense of democracy the band had once had was now gone. Keeping the money flowing would now be the priority, and to do so everyone in the band would bend a knee to Rose.
Later, disposing of me would allow him to gain the ownership of the name from the others. I had not realised this yet, nor seen it coming to that, but we were now in a state of Axl democracy and on our way to Chinese Democracy.
Disconsolate, I eventually made my way home by Sunday afternoon. I took X to come down. I took X to conciliate my mood.
Copyright © Alan Niven, 2025. Published by ECW Press, republished with permission. Sound N' Fury: Rock N' Roll Stories will be published on July 24.
