"There’s a dead rat hanging in my face, a guy playing a flute and this topless lady belly dancing." Ex-members of Papa Roach, Trivium, Faith No More and Opeth on what it's like being in a major metal band before it blows up

It's a long, hard road to success. For the thousands of bands who try, only a few will actually reach the top-tier of the rock and metal world and even amongst them, band line-ups can look like revolving doors as members come and go.

We all know Dave Mustaine used to be in Metallica, but how many more musicians are out there who took part in a massive band's early years and left before fame hit? Hammer caught up with some musicians who played in metal's best bands in their earliest years.

Anne Mikolajcik (Papa Roach guitarist, 1993)

"Like any good band story, it starts with a party in a garage. I grew up in Fairfield, which is the next town south from Vacaville in Northern California. I had a friend who went to Vaca High. She said, ‘Hey, there’s this band who are looking for a guitarist, you want to go hear them?’ I was 16 or 17 and I’d been playing guitar for a couple of years. So off we went to this party in the middle of nowhere, kind of out in the country, and this band were playing in somebody’s garage. That’s how I met Papa Roach and ended up joining them.

“I’d been in a couple of bands before that, but Papa Roach were different. At the time, their music was a bit more funky rock – the Chili Peppers and Faith No More were big. And they had a trombone, so there was a ska influence too. It was a really cool time to be in music.

“They’d played a talent show in March 1993, so people knew who they were, and they had a full set of songs already that Jacoby [Shaddix] had written the lyrics to. We’d practise in Dave’s [Buckner, original drummer] garage. One time I picked them up from school and my car broke down a couple of blocks from Dave’s house. I was waiting for my dad to come to fix it, and we just jammed into the night. That was awesome.

“We lined up a gig at the grand opening of a Mexican restaurant in Vacaville. We played on the patio. About three days before the gig, they said, ‘Let’s add Fire! [a Jimi Hendrix song later covered by the Chili Peppers]’. I had three days to learn it. At the gig, Dave counted it in and they started playing this total punk version of it. I was like, ‘Oh shit…’ I managed to hang on in there, though.

“I was never a stellar guitar player. They were always really kind to me, but I don’t think I was going to be in the band forever, plus I was heading off to college. Jacoby was really ambitious even then, looking for anything to boost their visibility – he’d be trying to get big gigs in Sacramento. I just said, ‘Hey, I’m heading off to college, you guys go and do your thing, I’ll do mine.’ There was no big blow-up.

“I went to college, and eventually ended up becoming a science journalist and an editor. I’ve never actually listened to one of their albums in full, though I’ve heard their songs and I follow them on the news. My son’s a drummer. I told him I was once a member of Papa Roach, and he thinks it’s pretty cool.”

Brad Lewter (Trivium vocalist/guitarist, 1999-2000)

"Originally I was just jamming with my friend Jarred Bonaparte [guitarist] and we met up with Travis [Smith, drummer]. The name Trivium originally came about because we had three members. My mom got out the dictionary and I stumbled on Trivium. I thought it made sense because of the original Latin term meaning a three-way meeting of roads, and then in its medieval usage in the foundations of academia. It didn’t make a lot of sense when we brought on Matt Heafy as our fourth member, but the name had already stuck.

“We first saw Heafy at a middle school talent show with some friends. I think they were playing Self Esteem by The Offspring. Travis and I wanted somebody who had some technical chops for shredding. Heafy seemed like a good choice, so we approached him and it was a good fit. Our first show was a battle of the bands at our high school. We played my now-wife’s 16th birthday party, and the cops showed up when someone made a noise complaint. We played a couple more shows, including Club Firestone in Orlando.

“Heafy and Travis were really determined. They’d be woodshedding, where you just sit and go over the same riff over and over again, whereas me and Jarred had other things away from the music. Heafy had that laser focus, and it had to be perfect. His dad was very active in management and promotion and I didn’t know if I wanted to be on that train.

“There were some regrets about hopping off when I did – seeing them on MTV or touring with Metallica – but it wasn’t for me. I’m more of an introvert. I’m an animator, and so I would sit in my comfortable space in a dark room in front of a screen. I’m now a professor of animation at Ithaca College. I am still friends with Heafy and his wife on social media, so I see the updates, and that’s not the kind of life I could sustain.”

David Isberg (Opeth vocalist, 1990 - 1992)

"I got sunburned in Thailand and I had nothing to do but to read books. One was The Sunbird by Wilbur Smith, and there was a city of the moon called Opet. I said, ‘When I come back home, I’m gonna start a band called Opet.’

“I met these guys putting up a flyer in a record store. They were looking for a singer and I tore the flyer down: ‘I’m here!’ We started rehearsing and decided to keep my name, but added the ‘h’ because it sounded more death metal!

“We were 15 years old, we really couldn’t play that well. I heard some tapes the other day from back then and thought, ‘Oh, that’s hilarious’, but it’s part of the legacy. I was going to incarnate Mikael [Åkerfeldt] in that line-up, but that ended up with me firing the others, and me and Mikael went on as a two-piece. I brought Mikael, and they brought another guy to play bass, which they didn’t tell me about, and I didn’t like him. They didn’t want to try Mikael, and I said, ‘OK, you start the new band, and I take Mikael.’

“Did we say we were going to be the most evil band in the world? We did, but we were into the Omen films rather than Aleister Crowley. We weren’t so interested in doing Satanic rites or sacrificing babies. I was hanging out a lot with Christofer [Johnsson] from Therion, and he said he was putting a gig on and did we want to play? It was sold out and we got up, very unrehearsed, with people that me and Mikael called in at the last minute. The funny thing is, things we played that night turned up on the debut album, Orchid, so we were onto something already at that stage.

“I left because things were moving too slowly. I got an offer to sing with Liers In Wait. They had a record deal and a European tour and I was 16 or 17 and didn’t know anything. I have no regrets, because I’m not sure that Opeth would exist today if I was still in the band. I had too many opinions for my own good. I was the band leader and Mikael was taking on the role as an orchestral leader and there were some clashes. I don’t think that would have lasted, so I gave the world a good band, and I left before it crashed.

“I’m still a good friend of Mikael and we do things together, go and see the shows and stuff like that. I started my band, Blood Of Jupiter, and when I’ve not been in bands I’ve been DJing. I had a friend who had a club and he asked, ‘Why don’t you come and DJ on the alternative floor, because you have all the records by the Sub Pop bands?’ I also had Happy Mondays and Primal Scream and stuff, so that’s how my DJ career started. I have two poetry books out, one in English and one in Swedish, and we put out a Blood Of Jupiter beer with Signature Brew in London.”

Wade Worthington (Faith No More keyboardist/backing vocals, 1979 - 1983)

"My first band was The Spectators, but that fell apart and then there was Sharp Young Men, which then became Faith No Man. I had this ad up in the local record store in Berkeley [in the Bay Area], and the first person to answer was [bassist] Bill Gould. We’d been at a frat party and seen [drummer] Mike Bordin play. We ended up at his family home. In the hallway there was a picture of him with this huge afro, and I think that’s why he got nicknamed Puffy at some later date.

“Bill got us a show at a club called Frenchy’s in the adjacent town of Hayward. I couldn’t hold a tune but I would sort of scream. We recorded a demo [as Sharp Young Men] at [future FNM producer] Matt Wallace’s garage at his parents’ house. That led to more gigs – I remember one show that was like an art gallery with a trapdoor and a ladder that was a deathtrap to get your gear down. We were standing outside, and these kids jumped out of a low-riding car and started attacking Mike. We jumped in the van and ran a red light and drove to Bill and Roddy’s [Bottum, future FNM keyboardist] apartment, which might have been Courtney Love’s place as well at that time.

“I was hoping to hide my shyness in my performances, but I didn’t like what I saw and I didn’t like my singing. I was trying to graduate and I wanted to do this trip with my sister, riding round Ireland on bikes, so I apologised and told them I was leaving. I let them use my garage while I was away and even let Roddy, who didn’t have a keyboard at that time, use mine.

“We did this show at this club called The Sound Of Music in San Francisco, and I played half the set then passed the baton to Roddy. I really thought they were going nowhere. I remember seeing Bill some time later and he took me to his rooms. There’s a dead rat hanging in my face, a guy in a loincloth and turban playing a flute in the corner and this lady, belly dancing topless.

“In the 90s I totally tuned out. I was working at a frame shop and talking about bands I’d been in, and mentioned Faith No Man. They said, ‘You mean Faith No More?’ I had no idea that they were popular. That was a big shock. I probably had regrets. Everybody wants to be famous but I’m very grateful to have had those experiences and I’m really happy for them.”