Chinese Democrazy

I can't think of anything I've waited for quite like I've waited for the latest Guns N Roses release Chinese Democracy.

Let me set the scene. It's 1994. About two years ago I stopped caring that I occupied the lowest rung of the social ladder because I became comfortable with myself, because I had friends, because I became aware of things outside the sphere of my New England mill town existence, because the four chords of "Smells Like Teen Spirit" blew the fucking lid off of everything that I thought was possible to do with my life. Of course, like a lot of young people irritated with their lives and finding a balm via subculture I went too far in the other direction and lost appreciation for the simpler pleasures of life. A lot of stuff that I previously liked was now verboten under my new found self-imposed orthodoxy.

One thing never became uncool. Guns. And. Fucking. Roses.

What the Sex Pistols were for Generation X, Guns N Roses were for me. Sure, Nirvana appealed to my inner non-comformist. But Guns N Roses were always way more dangerous. Nirvana didn't sing songs about the day to day life of heroin addiction. Nirvana didn't look like they'd cut my mother's throat for a fix. Nirvana didn't have lyrics like "You get nuthin for nuthin if that's what you do / Turn around bitch I got a use for you / Besides you ain't got nuthin' better to do / And I'm bored." Christ, GnR's idea of a love song is fucking "My Michelle," a disturbing tale of heroin and cocaine addiction, suitcase pimps, and unconquerable desire. Despite epitomizing every reason why grunge had to happen and being some sort of strange equal opposite quantity of Nirvana, Guns N Roses never stopped rocking my socks.

But back to 1994. First of all, I feel like, if for no other reason than the almighty lulz I should share with you what I looked like when the last Guns N Roses release The Spaghetti Incident? (a collection of punk and hard rock covers and the only album to include 80s LA glam rock mainstay Gilby Clarke on rhythm guitar) hit the streets. Like a naked baby photo it's semi-embarrassing, but cute as fuck.



This was, as I have said, a point in my life where everything I liked two years ago "totally sucked." Metallica sucked. Iron Maiden sucked. Judas Priest sucked. And somehow through all that negativity and mindless conformity to a new standard, Guns N Roses escaped unscathed.

At a certain point between then and now waiting for the next GnR album became less of an anticipation like Christmas and more of a game like seeing how high you can let dishes pile up before you decide to actually fucking do them. I'll confess that until this morning when I heard that it was being released (only at Best Buy for some reason which is beyond my understanding) I had basically decided that it was never coming out. Every couple of years Axl would claim "No, really guys... this is the year." Every couple of years our hopes were dashed until we just gave up hope. Guns N Roses was done, and that was probably for the best as a revolving cast of characters including Replacements alum Tommy Stinson, NIN touring guitarist Robin Finck, shred prog guitarist Buckethead, to name only a few, slowly replaced the classic lineup leaving only increasingly bizarre frontman W. Axl Rose and keyboardist Dizzy Reed.

So it's fair to say that I've been waiting half my life for Chinese Democracy to finally hit the streets if only to see what Axl Rose has been driving himself mad over the last fourteen years. And to be frank, it's a very difficult album to review. In the first place, the hype about the record is impossible to live up to. It is arguably the most anticipated rock album of all time. It is possibly the most expensive rock record of all time. And through it all, it's hard to tell if Axl is trying to strike a balance between his new vision of the band and giving the old school fans something worth waiting for or if he can't decide to pursue the future or the past. The album has a schizophrenic quality befitting the stewardship of Axl Rose, arguably the most troubled frontman in the history of rock. Sometimes it sounds like the album after the two Illusions ("Chinese Democracy" and "Scraped"). Sometimes it sounds like dated Nine Inch Nails outtakes ("Shackler's Revenge", "If the World", and "Better"). Sometimes it sounds like a bad Queen song ("Street of Dreams").

One thing it doesn't sound like is a cohesive album. There are elements of all of the aforementioned bands, influences that Rose wears on his sleeve like his favorite old Devo t-shirt from back in Indiana. But there are also hat tips to the past which are not so much homage as they are pathetic attempts to recapture the old magic. You can't help but notice that the guitar work of Robin Finck in particular sounds as if Axl instructed him to "sound like Slash." Ditto on the drums and Matt Sorum. While the rest of the original lineup have moved on to other projects, most notably the recently defunct Velvet Revolver (featuring the guys who made Axl Rose something other than a fifth rate hard rock singer by giving him a band to front and featuring the only man who looks as good in a leather cop hat on vocals) Axl seems to be the only one still stuck in 1996, two years after Spaghetti. It's easy to get the impression that Axl has become a sort of rock n roll Gil Gunderson, sure that he's headed straight back to the top with just the right alchemical mix of the old sound, alternative rock influence, and big pop hooks.

Ultimately the joke is probably on me. I'm sure that Axl will get himself a fleet of new cars, an even bigger house, and a series of super model girlfriends to beat the piss out of for the crime of causing him to stub his toe by asking him to come talk to them for a second. But Axl, listen, and listen well. If you wanted to make a solo album you could have done it a lot easier, with less pressure, and without the pretension if you'd just fucking done it. This sham GnR masquerading as the real McCoy doesn't do anything but tarnish the reputation of the band and more importantly (to you and your overinflated ego in any event) your reputation as one of the most vitriolic forces to ever grace the world of rock n roll. In the final analysis Chinese Democracy isn't bad. But we should expect more from the band that made rock dangerous again.

I'll try and remember you as that beautiful, violent, angry, frail-looking thing in chest protectors and kilts that I fell in love with so many years ago and not the bloated dinosauric monstrosity that you've chosen to become. And forgive me if I don't bother to listen to the next overproduced nightmare you painstakingly craft out of the frustration of your fans.