The Heroin Diaries

by Nikki Sixx

  * * *

  UNUSED LYRIC

  South Street Sam sells it by the box Half-price murder and double-price rocks Easin’ in 20, he’s looking 85 He’ll be pushing up daisies By the time he’s 25

  * * *

  MAY 18TH, 1987

  Van Nuys, 9 p.m.

  DAY NINE COKE AND DOPE FREE

  I ran into Jason today while I was shopping on Melrose and basically ignored him. He saw me and came over and asked why I hadn’t called him lately. I just said that I had his number if I needed it, but I was planning not to use it. The parasites are panicking because their free meal is over!

  NIKKI: When I read these diary entries, it boggles my mind how much power I had when I finally decided to quit. I don’t know if it was fear or greed that eventually got me to that point but whatever it was, it seemed to be working…temporarily…

  MAY 19TH, 1987

  Van Nuys, 11:20 p.m.

  DAY TEN COKE AND DOPE FREE

  Had a meeting with management earlier. They want to hire a jet for the tour so we can leave right after shows and base ourselves in a city for a week or so at a time while we play all of the nearby dates.

  Doc said it would save us money, but I’m not stupid…I know the real fucking reason. They are terrified of me and Tommy and Vince heading off to clubs and getting wasted after every show…they think they can keep an eye on us this way, and we can’t get up to too much bad shit up in the air every night.

  I see their plan, but I went along with it…it might even be what I need. I said we would only do it if the jet was painted black with a big naked chick on the side. Doug went pale but said he’d see what he could do.

  They seemed amazed that I had color and had gained some weight. I’ve even been lifting a few weights in my garage.

  NIKKI: My suspicion of our management’s strategy was entirely correct. Their plan was an honorable one, but overlooked one major flaw: being based in a city for seven nights at a time, rather than one night, would give us plenty of time to track down all the local services and supplies that we shouldn’t be tracking down.

  DOC McGHEE: It was always way easier to tour Mötley Crüe on private jets than on buses. We could get the journey done in one hour rather than five or six, and on buses they were a fucking mess. They were always running around drunk or biting people. And considering the state Nikki was in at that stage, we wanted to have him somewhere we could keep an eye on him.

  MAY 20TH, 1987

  Van Nuys, 9:30 p.m.

  DAY ELEVEN COKE AND DOPE FREE

  Been down in the garage lifting weights and riding my exercise bike every day. It’s nice that for once my muscles are aching for a good reason. One bad thing about coming off drugs is putting on weight. Which is worse? Being strung out or fat?

  MAY 21ST, 1987

  Van Nuys, 11:30 p.m.

  DAY TWELVE COKE AND DOPE FREE

  Not much to do again today except a few phone interviews for the album. All the journalists are the same. They all ask identical questions as though they’re the only person to have ever thought of them. I hate the press almost as much as they hate me…ha ha…but really, when are they going to ask about the MUSIC? What’s the meaning behind the song “Nona”? Or did I know that Girls Girls Girls was an Elvis Presley album? Duh…

  I’m really happy to be off dope. I can’t believe I finally did it–on my own, no less. To be on a journey that you see no ending to, and then you finally get where you’re going, feels soooo good. Like the insanity has stopped. I’m really happy.

  Pete is still strung out and I hear King is too. I can’t be around anybody who uses junk, I just can’t…even if they’re my best friends.

  MAY 22ND, 1987

  Van Nuys, 11:20 p.m.

  DAY THIRTEEN COKE AND DOPE FREE

  T-Bone has just left. My head is still buzzing from talking to him. He had a dream last night that he was playing the drums upside down, and he wants to turn it into reality. So he’s told management he wants them to design a kit that can spin around like a gyroscope while he’s playing it…they’re looking into it.

  Tommy is so enthusiastic and I hope it happens, but rather him than me. When I’m trying to survive a hangover, the last thing I’d want would be fucking spinning upside down. I hope the front row likes the taste of projectile vomit….

  P.S. You know what’s weird? I don’t even know where Vince or Mick lives.

  MAY 23RD, 1987

  Van Nuys, 11:50 a.m.

  DAY FOURTEEN COKE AND DOPE FREE

  Days like today are beautiful. There’s nothing to do, nobody is on the phone, the sun is out, the doors are open. I’m lying on my back patio right now writing to you, soaking up the sun, listening to Aerosmith and Bad Company.

  I’m not strung out and that feels good. I feel like I’ve finally got the monster under control. I’m excited…what a perfect day.

  MAY 24TH, 1987

  Van Nuys, 5:45 p.m.

  DAY FIFTEEN COKE AND DOPE FREE

  Today we went to look at the plane we are hiring for the tour, but it seems management “forgot” to tell them about the little adjustments we need–the Mötley Crüe accessories.

  So I patiently explained to the guy that we need it painted black, and we need a naked girl painted on the outside. He started stuttering that they couldn’t paint it black and I just gave him a look and said, Oh, that’s a shame, we can’t take it then. He said he’ll see what he can do, and get back to us. We agreed on a compromise–the girl can be riding a bomb on the side of the plane.

  Fuck–sometimes people don’t seem able to handle the simplest requests! No is not a word I think should be in the dictionary when it comes to creativity.

  P.S. I did it…totally clean…amazing. I’m not even the same person I was two weeks ago. I’ve been playing so much music, practicing, writing, getting all the ideas together for the tour. Shows, planes, hotels, food, stage clothes, new basses, amps…yes…I’m back!

  Band reh today. I’m so excited to play. Pete wants to go out after but I can’t hang out with him anymore. He’s on methadone but still I have to stick to my guns. I feel sorry for him ’cause I am his only friend and he knows why we can’t hang out anymore. Junk ruins lives and friendships. I hope he gets clean too.

  MAY 27TH, 1987

  Van Nuys, 11 p.m.

  Last night I went to the Cathouse on my own. I always know plenty of people there. I had loads of Jack and tequila shots but no more than a few bumps. I fucked a girl in the bathroom and brought another one home, but this morning I can’t remember her name and I can’t wait for her to leave…

  Girls do their best, but they’re never gonna take the place of drugs, ’cause drugs don’t talk back.

  Short reh today but we sounded good…I was a bit hungover and that felt bad after feeling so good for the last two weeks.

  DEANA RICHARDS: After Nikki moved to Los Angeles I hardly heard from him. He would occasionally call me, very late at night or in the middle of the night, demanding money. I would gather up all I could and send it to him, and then I would never hear from him again unless he got in really bad trouble.

  When Mötley Crüe started getting big, I was proud of Nikki but I could see what a toll it was taking. I was so scared for him because I knew it was killing him. It was obvious he was taking drugs and I tried to talk to him twice about getting help, but he wouldn’t even discuss it. He said he didn’t have a problem–I had a problem.

  Then later on, when he was married for the first time and I went to see him in Los Angeles, he told me that the only reason he had started taking drugs was because I had been drinking and drugging for years. Well, I never took drugs–and I didn’t start drinking until after Nikki left Seattle and refused to come back.

  * * *

  SELLING MY SOUL WOULD BE A LOT

  EASIER IF I COULD JUST FIND IT.

  * * *

  MAY 29TH, 1987

  Van Nuys, 11 a.m.

  Just woke up. Phone was rin
ging. It was Gene Simmons, reminding me that we’re getting together to write music today. Glad he called, ’cause I’d forgot…

  10 p.m.

  Gene came over in his new black Rolls. When he was leaving and backing out the driveway he got too close to the wall and was freaking out ’cause his car was about an inch away from getting scratched to fuck. Me and Pete just laughed–it serves him right for what he said about my lyrics.

  Oh yeah–Pete came over this afternoon. He looks better than I’ve seen him in a long time. He’s almost clean–no junk, just getting dosed.

  NIKKI: Gene Simmons and I wrote a song together one time but when I showed him the lyrics he said they were “too radical” and wouldn’t get played on the radio. Later, I used the same words on the “Girls Girls Girls” single and radio had no problem playing it. He was always a weird guy. I remember the first time he came over to my house. I did a line and took a quaalude and was drinking, and asked Gene whether he wanted anything. He said he didn’t do drugs or drink. I asked him what he did instead. He said, “I fuck.” So I asked him, “What do you do after you fuck?” He said, “I fuck again.” And I asked him, “Why????”

  Because Rule Number One:

  CHICKS = TROUBLE

  JUNE 1987

  MAYBE HAVING THESE DEALERS FOLLOW US IS A BAD IDEA

  JUNE 1ST, 1987

  Van Nuys, 12:50 a.m.

  Rehearsals were a kick today. We’ve decided to hire background singers for the tour. As we progress as a band we’ve naturally started to use more background vocals but it can be hard to cover them live (and boring to be stuck on the mic all night), so we’ve decided to use female background singers like the Stones. We’ll be auditioning girls all week at rehearsals. Should be interesting.

  The band needs less reh this tour than usual. The old stuff is tight and the new stuff isn’t far off. I think the new stuff is simpler and more bluesy at times. It just falls in the pocket easier. There’s the usual excitement about tour production going around like a virus. I love this part…the part where the visual meets the music.

  We’re having the stage show evolve…more on that later. My ears are ringing. Off to bed…working out in the morning…

  NIKKI: When you’re sitting on a plane 40,000 feet up in the air, looking out the window, dreaming of your future and how bright it appears to be, or maybe just watching the drops of rain being pushed into different designs from the force of air at 400 mph, well, life feels good. It feels safe, your seat belt is on and your feet are up. Then the oxygen masks fall, the plane jumps, snaps and jolts. People start to scream, babies burst out crying, people start praying all in time to the overhead announcement that we’re gonna crash. Right then, as your life flashes before your eyes, you hear yourself say, “God, if you get me outta this one, I’ll stop [insert lie] forever.” Right then the nose of the plane pulls up and the captain says, “Wow, that was a close one, folks. We’re OK, we’ll be landing in thirty minutes and we’re all safe and sound…sorry for the scare…”

  That’s how getting hooked on junk is, and when the kick is over you can’t believe you ever got on that plane in the first place. The question is, Will you ever fly again?

  JUNE 3RD, 1987

  Van Nuys, 10:45 p.m.

  We met about ten singers today. Some of them could sing and some of them could dance. The ones that could sing couldn’t dance, the ones that were pretty couldn’t sing, the ones that were ugly sang like Janis Joplin. What a nightmare!

  We have more tomorrow. This one girl was dancing in front of us grinding on the mic, and then went over to Mick and was singing in his face. I had to look down and away so I didn’t burst out laughing. I almost pissed my pants laughing after she left…good times.

  Mick is playing his ass off. I haven’t seen that fire in him for a while. I think the break did him good.

  JUNE 5TH, 1987

  Van Nuys, 11:20 p.m.

  We finally picked our background singers–a girl named Emi and one named Donna. I told the band the first rule of the tour–nobody fucks the background singers. These tours have enough dramas and problems without us importing dysfunctional relationships right into the fucking heart of them. But it was amazing to hear the vocals on top of all the guitars and drums. It took it to another level…badass!

  Of course, I foresee problems. I mean, chicks = trouble.

  A lot of phone calls today with management about last-minute details for the tour. If we have one more meeting at reh I think I’m gonna lose my cool. They seem to think since we’re all together it’s their time to trap us, and we end up not getting to reh as much as we should.

  I dunno, maybe that’s not a bad thing. An over-rehearsed rock band can sound sterile.

  DOUG THALER: We auditioned the background singers at the practice facility in Burbank. One of them was Emi Canyon, and looking back I should have known from the start we’d have trouble with her. When she came to the audition she had only been married for six months, and she was already telling us she wanted to go on tour to get away from her husband.

  Nikki laid down the law about nobody sleeping with the backing singers, and the band all agreed, which was highly ironic, given that Vince had already tried his luck with both of the girls at the audition and been knocked back. But when Emi later turned her attentions to Mick, it was a very different story.

  JUNE 12TH, 1987

  Van Nuys, 9:30 a.m.

  I just realized I haven’t written in here for a week…maybe ’cause I’ve just been getting on with life, like other people do? Reh has been going great, I’ve not been drinking more than half a bottle of Jack a night. Even Jason has given up on calling me. This is like a health kick. Maybe there are two things I do when I’m falling apart–write in this book and phone Vanity, ha ha…

  Now for the hard part–holding it together on tour.

  JUNE 15TH, 1987

  Van Nuys, 11 a.m.

  So today I’m packing for the tour. I’m making a list (and checking it twice)…

  Now for the killer question–how long before I can dump the psycho girlfriend? All will be revealed. Follow me…

  JUNE 16TH, 1987

  Sheraton Hotel, Tucson, Arizona, 2:30 p.m.

  Got into the hotel from LA an hour ago. We’re all going down to the arena in a while. Can’t wait to see the stage set. After all our bombastic sets in the past and all the cheap imitations that have followed our every move, our direction is simpler this time. It’s raw, stripped back, but huge…a lot of the power will come from the lights, pyro and our wayyyyy too big PA.

  We shoot the Rolling Stone cover tomorrow and I want to see what’s around there for the shoot. Since I’ll be doing my best to keep my nose clean on this tour I’ll try to write a lot every day. Someday maybe I’ll have kids, and they can read these diaries…or no, maybe not.

  The Rolling Stone writer is hanging around asking us questions. I wish he would leave us alone. He doesn’t know shit about rock ’n’ roll. The same typical stupid questions: how many girls do we fuck? How much do we party? No questions about music, spirit, lyrics, soul, no questions about the Dolls or Angus Young, just the same old bubblegum magazine bullshit…

  JUNE 17TH, 1987

  Sheraton Hotel, Tucson, Arizona, 1:40 a.m.

  Wow, the set turned out amazing. It’s exactly what we intended it to be. It has so many levels and different looks. Tommy’s solo is insane, the drums flip all the way around. In fact, I think he’s insane…Thank God!

  I have to tell you, if you ever have to come to Tucson in June…don’t. It’s fucking hot. I mean the kind of hot where rattlesnakes won’t even come out. You walk outside in the day and a wave of heat slams you in the face. It feels like you’ve stuck your head in a fucking oven.

  All the usual suspects came around tonight. I said no to all but two lines and a few shots. I’m not starting off the tour with a hangover. I can’t believe I’m off junk–what a horror story that was. But I have to watch it ’cause the junkies just seem t
o sniff me out. The word’s on the street that I’m clean and they don’t like it.

  I want to help out Slash and give his band some shows. They’re not worth any tickets but I believe in them. Cool new band but the singer can be an asshole–but what’s new? I can see him and Vince bumping heads.

  It’s good to see Fred again, with his perfect hair and Grizzly Adams beard, covered in tattoos. He always wears this devil’s smirk which somehow yields him more pussy than the guys in the band. As soon as Fred walks into the room I know we’re REALLY back on the road again. Everybody is hired, the plane is on the runway, trucks and buses are all warmed up, and the hanger-ons are floating outside the arena.

  So let the madness commence…because I know it will…

  FRED SAUNDERS: I was tour security for Mötley Crüe ever since the Shout at the Devil tour. When Doc McGhee first hired me, he said the band was so wild I should do whatever it took to keep them in line. In fact, he said he’d give me a bonus every time I hit them. I told him he’d got himself a deal.

  I hit Mötley a lot. I once broke Tommy’s nose in Indiana, I broke Nikki’s ribs and I beat the shit out of Vince many times, because…well, because he’s an asshole. I think I even hit poor Mick once. That was just to complete the set.

  Nikki was always the strongest of the guys. He was the brightest and had the biggest ideas. Vince had just got lead singer syndrome, and Tommy was a typical drummer–he’s always 100 mph and everything is fine by him. Mick just always wanted to drink his wine and not be bothered with anything. So it was always Nikki’s moods that shaped what happened with Mötley.