Legendary former Guns N’ Roses manager Alan Niven didn’t mince words when it came to late Stone Temple Pilots and Velvet Revolver frontman Scott Weiland, stating that he didn’t “see Scott’s worth” in regards to fronting Velvet Revolver on a new edition of Rock Talk with Mitch Lafon. Alternative Nation reporter Mike Mazzarone transcribed Niven’s comments.
“Well in the interests of transparency and honesty, my partner and I went to see Velvet [Revolver] with Scott [Weiland] when they came through Arizona the first time.
Curly A.K.A. Slash, myself, and Heather went into the hotel bar and this was the first time that Heather had actually met Slash and she was horrified because we sat down at the table and I [inaudible] across the table and the first thing out of my mouth was:
‘What are you thinking!’
Curly [Slash] goes ‘I know, I know’, I just didn’t get it at all. I just did not see Scott’s worth.”
Alan Niven has released the following statement via Mitch Lafon:
TELLING THE STORY
A CAUTIONARY TALE For
THE AGING MUSICIAN
“Rock n’ roll is dead, Niv. There’s only the telling of the stories that remains.”
Every fuckin’ molecule in my body wants to deny Tom Zutaut’s observation. I have loved the medium and the activity with all my heart for all my life. Well, most of it. There was a time I wanted to throw all my studio tapes and discs off the deck and into the gulley below the house – let the Javalinas pound the past into the desert dust with their filthy hooves.
Your body grows older, in spite of the fact your spirit does not age. You learn to be a little more gracious and to appreciate that many are still interested in the events of your distant past. You agree to talk to media, after years of giving them the cold shoulder. You are well aware that it helps those who are of the moment and who you support. You ain’t gonna Buck that.
The lack of anything really substantial coming through since 1990 drives the demands of the media in the direction of the old dogs. They need to fill all that screen time, all those pages, with something gloriously sensational – even if it is just the past. Moreover, music that passes the test of time has a contemporary relevance, even when your own participation, your own body, is owned by the relentlessness of time. Perhaps you might even admit it’s fuckin’ cool to have your memory memorialized.
In the case of Guns n’ Roses, they have been parsimonious with interviews – Axl is vulnerable to the truth and the others are vulnerable to his grip on the purse strings. Accordingly the media go for the second bananas to peel away the skin of mythology and reveal something true and actual.
You are flattered anyone still cares. You feel obliged. You try to fuckin’ recall. The mag gets sold, the T.V. show gets sold to America, the frantic click bait is concocted.
Tom participates in the filming of ‘The Dirt’.
A producer representing themselves as employed by ITV contacts you. Would you be prepared to talk about “The Breaking of the Band”? For a few bucks.
Sure. Why not? ‘Breaking The Band’? Unwanted urchins climbing out of the gutter grates from under the street to eventually stride the stage at Wembley? It’s a cool story that features headlining in the UK when the record company had only sold 7000 units of the record. We sold more tickets than that on the tour. That’s fuckin’ ballsy in anyone’s analysis. We bucked the system and won. A viewer might even be encouraged by the idea you can beat the system, confound the industry establishment. Fuck The Man. That’s motherfuckin’ rock n roll right there.
Fast forward to the film date.
First, lets cement some history. By definition Guns n Roses were ‘broken’ by February of 1988. The album would go gold in March, platinum on April 7th 1988. Consequently any question posed that concerned any event after February of 1988 was way off topic.
And they kept on coming.
No fuckin’ questions about ballsy strategy, no questions about daring and brazen risk taking. No mention of a resolute determination to go over, round or under the industry roadblocks.
Instead they kept digging deeper and deeper into my entire relationship with the band, and then began to ask about Axl’s childhood. At which point my partner closed it all down. Got herself between me and their prying, intrusive, lens. I am not going to speak to that.
“How much do you need for a few minutes in a forty five minute program?” I asked. The response was another pushy, off topic question.
“That’s it,” demanded my partner, a Fury of Blonde Anger, having sensed the con faster than I. “Shut it down!”
It transpires they had already done some episodes, hidden away on U Tube on Reelz. None of this was mentioned in the prep phone calls. Why would they reveal their garbage production and garbage intent?
Anyways.
The caution? If you have a story to tell, know its valuable. Let me leave you with this thought – the screen media are the new record company. They will fuck you just as hard and smile while they do. Just as the record company did, while taking 85 to 90% of royalties generated. Meet the new crooks, same as the old crooks.
Don’t feel flattered. Don’t feel obliged. Don’t feel you owe it to the fans. Keep them on point and feel like you got paid some of those You U, Netflix or HULU dollars. Enough to know your worth.
