by Nikki Sixx
JULY 3RD, 1987 DAY OFF
Hotel, Biloxi, 5:20 p.m.
I tossed and turned again all night. No drugs. I should have taken something to sleep but I’m trying to be good…
I just got the new Rolling Stone with us on the cover. Of course they had to take a swipe at us. The cover says:
HEAVY METAL: IT’S LOUD, IT’S UGLY, IT WON’T GO AWAY
I guess if I wanted critical acclaim I’d have picked music that doesn’t ruffle any feathers…so maybe it’s a compliment? Because we are loud, ugly and won’t go away. Mostly ’cause they want us to.
NIKKI: When that issue of Rolling Stone came out, I was hugely offended. I really thought this would be the time we finally got the praise we deserved for our music. Looking back, I can’t believe I took it so seriously.
JULY 4TH, 1987 BARTON COLISEUM LITTLE ROCK, AR
Backstage, 6:10 p.m.
I’ve been thinking a lot about Nona. She will have passed away a year ago next month. How life changes. She really was a mother to me. I only have good thoughts of her…she always had a smile and put food on the table. She was really into fashion so she would put patches on my clothes or make me bell-bottom pants when I started to emulate my rock ’n’ roll heroes. In Jerome, Idaho, you might as well have a pink Mohawk as go into a store and ask for bell-bottoms…at least in the men’s department of JC Penney…
Hell hath no fury like a small town boy with a dream.
* * *
RAISE YOUR HANDS TO ROCK
Sometimes I feel turned around And upside down And sometimes maybe I drink too much But my heart’s still in touch
I remember standing tall telling you I’m gonna be a rock ’n’ roll star When someone said, Sit down boy You already are
* * *
BOB MICHAELS: There was never a July Fourth that I didn’t think of Nikki after one particular year–I think it was 1984. I went over to his house and he was stoned, and he fired a huge bottle rocket out of his garden. It set a forty-foot palm tree on fire and it fell onto a 1965 Mustang convertible that went up in flames. Nikki thought the whole thing was just absolutely hilarious.
JULY 5TH, 1987 MIDSOUTH COLISEUM MEMPHIS, TN
Hotel, 1:40 a.m.
Great show…sold out. We were jamming on Dancing on Glass and some guy threw a bindle onstage to me and motioned to his arm like he was shooting up. Nice. Anyway we’re spending the night tonight. I have a great story about a girl, a banana and some leftover fireworks…but I’m tired. Off to bed…on my own.
I think the guys are going out to a strip club. I just know I’d get in trouble if I go. I’m gonna work on some music tomorrow and I don’t want a hangover. Once I start, I can never stop…so I’ll stop now…
DOC McGHEE: Nikki was actually more manageable than usual on the Girls Girls Girls tour. He wasn’t as aggressive as he usually was. He didn’t want to go out to clubs so much–I guess because he was sunk into his fucking heroin den. In a way I was almost grateful. When the other maniacs were doing their fucking crazy shit, I could think at least Nikki is in his room–he didn’t kill anybody today.
JULY 6TH, 1987 DAY OFF
Hotel, Memphis, 7 p.m.
Day off…nothing too exciting. Reading a book called Nigger by Dick Gregory. It’s killer. It’s about one of the first black comedians and all the prejudice that happened to him in the ’50s and ’60s. I can relate to prejudice. When my mom was dating Richard Pryor people gave us so many looks and comments…a bit like the ones I get in the hotel gift shop downstairs when I still have my stage makeup on and my stinky sweaty leathers. It’s like I’m a leper to people in the Midwest. Maybe I’m just a nigger?
NIKKI: I remember my mom dating Richard Pryor. He was always nice to me. One of my most vivid memories was living in a ninth-floor apartment in Hollywood. I used to take Ceci down to the parking lot to play–we didn’t have a yard because we were right on Sunset Boulevard. Mom hadn’t been home in days, and we were playing when Mom and Richard pulled up. They were both smashed and my mom fell out of the car and hugged me, and they both said hi, then went upstairs. I stayed in the cement underground that was our playground. It didn’t occur to me until years later what kind of scars that sort of stuff left on my childhood…and it never even came to my mind that Richard was black and my mom was white. I’ve never cared about unimportant shit like that.
DEANA RICHARDS: I was working as a croupier in Lake Tahoe when I met Richard. I was working dealing blackjack one night, and I looked up from the table and into these eyes, and–BAM! I had never been out with a black man in my life, and I didn’t even notice that it was a black man standing there. I just looked into those eyes and that was it.
I saw him a few nights later and it hit me again, and then a friend arranged for us to meet up. We met and went out and ended up backstage at a show talking to Bill Cosby. Then when Richard went back to Los Angeles, we used to fly back and forth to see each other–we were deadly serious about our relationship.
Richard was a very deep, intense man who was terribly hurt by the world. We used to go down to the beach a lot and he’d run through his routines and I’d suggest things he could change. He was always running around the beach with his arms up, yelling, “Will you let me be me?” He said I was the only person who had ever appreciated his soul. I certainly appreciated his spirit.
Nikki was about five then and Richard loved him–he thought Nikki was so cute, just “It.” But this was the early ’60s, and Richard and I would encounter racism. We’d go into restaurants and people would look at us really weird, and the waiters would refuse to serve us. Richard was very outspoken so he’d always say something and cause trouble, and then we would have to leave.
Eventually I moved to Los Angeles to be with Richard and left Nikki with my mother and sisters. I was going to send for him when I was settled, but when I got to LA, everything fell apart–Richard got arrested for beating up a hotel desk clerk and went to jail. Everything went to hell…and when I finally got Nikki back, it was hell on him too.
JULY 7TH, 1987 MUNICIPAL AUDITORIUM NASHVILLE, TN
On the jet, 2:30 p.m.
Every time I try to get Neglektra to do something exciting they always complain. They don’t wanna spend the money…fucking lame. I used to think this was the cool label because they had Queen. Now I can see the truth…they probably fucked up Queen’s career too…
When you’re hot they act like they love you (they do love the money we make them)…but when you need the support, there is no love to be found. Bob Krasnow is so in the Stone Age. Eventually we need to get rid of this record company. All they do is put our albums out…there’s little or no promotion and we still sell millions of albums and sell out tours.
It’s not just the label…it’s management too. They just don’t know how to motivate the label or threaten them. Imagine the damage we could do if Elektra did more than throw it against the wall and hope it sticks.
MY RECORD COMPANY THEORY
1. They’re the bank for the music.
2. They distribute the music.
3. They print and press the music (and charge back a huge %).
4. They should never own anybody’s music just for doing 1, 2 and 3.
5. You never see this happen in other businesses.
P.S. We do all the work, write all the music…they loan us money…we have to pay it back, and they own us? What the fuck is wrong with the music business? No wonder they like us fucked up on drugs. If we’re out of our heads, we won’t see how they’re taking advantage…it’s slavery.
P.P.S. See what happens when I don’t get fucked up? My brain starts to work again.
IAN GITTINS: Mötley Crüe eventually regained control of the master tapes of their albums from Elektra Records. Both Nikki Sixx and the band’s current manager, Allen Kovac, are legally bound from discussing the circumstances that led to this coup and the terms of the deal, but it is generally accepted that Elektra surrendered control of the masters in exchange for
Mötley waiving royalty earnings that were due to them. As Mötley Crüe is still releasing new albums and touring massive arenas a decade later, it seems fair to surmise that Elektra may very well be deeply regretting that particular decision.
NIKKI: We had to sign a non-disclosure agreement so other artists couldn’t find out how we did it. I can tell you this: Elektra chief executive Sylvia Rhone fell for it hook, line and sinker.
Rule Number Three:
NEVER-ALLOW EMOTIONS TO GET IN THE WAY OF BUSINESS
TOM ZUTAUT: As smart as McCartney, Jagger, Bono, Page and Plant may be, none of them own their masters that they signed away as kids to a record company. Nikki signed his masters away to Elektra as a young kid filled with hopes and dreams, yet as an adult he was shrewd enough to irritate then-head of Elektra Records, Sylvia Rhone, by behaving like a kid again to get her to give them back to him. Big music corporations rarely make mistakes like that, and it’s no accident that it’s Nikki who got his masters back. That’s Sikki Nixx for you!
SYLVIA RHONE: Would I like to take part in this book? I don’t think it would be appropriate.
JULY 8TH, 1987 THE ARENA ST.LOUIS, MO
Hotel, St Louis, 4:30 p.m.
Need to go to the gym. Been having a few drinks (a half-bottle of Jack) every night but that’s mostly it. I’m pretty proud of myself. But dear diary, I’m so bored. I can smell trouble lurking…is that why I agreed to let Vanity come to Minneapolis??
JULY 9TH, 1987 DAY OFF
Hotel, St Louis, 10:55 p.m.
Another night in the same hotel. I met two girls in the lobby last night. We had a little ménage à trois. I was doing lines of blow off this one girl’s ass…now THAT was fun. Fred came down to my room and said, Damn, Sixxdog, what are you doing? I said trying to beat the boredom, and he said, “It looks like you’re doing a pretty good job.” I love Fred. So I asked him if he wanted a bump and he said sure. I tapped out a bump on this other girl’s ass and Fred snorted it, said, “Thanks” like it was an everyday thing and left.
God, do we lose sight of what’s real out on the road, or what?
FRED SAUNDERS: We had laminates made for all that production staff on the Girls tour with special codes. We started doing it because the hotel lobbies were always swarming with kids so we couldn’t say the band’s names on our walkie-talkies: if we’d been overheard, there would have been a riot! So we gave everyone numbers:
1. Doc McGhee
2. Doug Thaler
3. Rich Fisher
4. Me
5. Vince
6. Nikki
7. Mick
00. Tommy
Then it spread to cover other things:
20. where are you?
100. krell
101. hotel
129. gig
268. tour bus
714. groupie
747. pig with lipstick
So we might say something like, What’s your 20? Well, I’m with 6 who has a 747 and some 100 on the 268 on the way to 129. It stopped people eavesdropping and was a bit of fun as well. Sometimes the band would talk like that all the way from the gig back to the hotel…I mean, from the 129 to the 101.
JULY 10TH, 1987 KANSAS COLISEUM WICHITA, KS
Hotel, Wichita, 4:10 p.m.
What’s with all the black girls chasing me down these days? Ever since Vanity started talking to the press, they’re all coming on to me. It’s like a fucking epidemic…
Tommy and Vince have been squabbling again. Those two can drive me and Mick crazy. But the band’s sounding really good, and that’s all that matters in the end…
7 p.m.
Whitesnake is supporting us now. They are so boring. I hate their new corporate music as well. David Coverdale was in Deep Purple so you’d think he was cool as fuck. But no, yesterday he told the crowd he had diarrhea…can you believe that shit? (joke!) And the fucked-up thing is he DOES have it. I walked into a bathroom after him and he told me not to go in the can ’cause he just sprayed water out his ass. Then he goes onstage and whines to the audience about it!
Every time I meet rock stars, I seem to lose faith…are there any left? Earth to Johnny Thunders, please wake up and put the Dolls back together…please.
That chick Tawny Kitaen that Tommy used to bang is out here with David Coverdale. I hope Tommy fucks her while Diarrhea Boy is onstage…
FRED SAUNDERS: What was Whitesnake like on the Girls Girls Girls tour? They were a joy to work with. They were just totally professional. Mr. David Coverdale is the Richard Burton of rock.
JULY 11TH, 1987 KEMPER ARENA KANSAS CITY, MO
Backstage, 7 p.m.
After the show last night we left for the airport at 1:30 a.m. Some days, when I sit in the plane looking over the skies, I wonder when this tour is gonna end.
I forgot–Vanity is coming in tomorrow–or is it tonight? I think she’s been trying to stay off drugs so maybe it won’t be a disaster–I guess she means well.
FRED SAUNDERS: Whenever Vanity came out to meet the tour, I wouldn’t see her or Nikki apart from at the shows. I think she liked coke and heroin–well, certainly coke–as much as Nikki did; they would just go and lock down behind the bed in their hotel room and do huge quantities of drugs.
JULY 12TH, 1987 VETERANS MEMORIAL AUDITORIUM DES MOINES, IA
On the jet,
1 a.m.
We’re flying into Minneapolis right now for a day off. The band sounded like shit tonight, everyone was drunk. Mick’s on this Mars-ade kick…what is Mars-ade, you ask? Well, it’s a lot of vodka and a splash of Gatorade (for coloring) so basically it’s just vodka.
Hint: Never go to Mick’s side of the stage for water. I gulped some down last night and just about puked…it was pure vodka. I think he’s buffering his sorrow over that bitch he was with. I think a gun would cure his sorrow a lot better and faster. Shouldn’t murder be legal for gold diggers?
MICK MARS: I was mostly drunk at all the shows on the Girls Girls Girls tour. I would drink straight vodka onstage, and sometimes Nikki would come to my side of the stage, think it was water and drink it. So on top of his habit, he’d get really drunk. We were all fucked up–I don’t know how we got through a song, let alone the set. I’d fall off the stage quite a bit. We weren’t the best sounding band, but somehow people seemed to keep coming and keep screaming.
JULY 13TH, 1987 DAY OFF
Hotel, Minneapolis, 6:10 p.m.
We’re doing two shows at the Met Center. It’s always a badass gig. 17,000 kids each night, sold out…nice…home of the Minnesota Vikings…
I’m so bored being off junk. At least I’m still able to get drunk every night, and zombie dust rules. It’s my new best friend.
JULY 14TH, 1987 MET CENTER MINNEAPOLIS, MN
Hotel, Minneapolis, 3 a.m.
Tim is mad at me ’cause I made him drink Jack in front of the audience tonight. I got a little carried away and it got in his eyes and all over him. He’s not digging that I make him dress like a priest. Besides that the show kicked ass. I’m so tired of saying that…it’s more exciting when we suck. God bless the Sex Pistols.
Vanity came in but stayed at the hotel…cool. She is a nice girl at heart but she just drives me nutz. After the sex, I wish she would turn into a bottle of Jack.
TIM LUZZI: Girls Girls Girls was the tour of hell so I guess they needed a priest. I would go onstage every night in a priest’s robes and Nikki would grab my hair, tilt my head back and pretend to make me drink Jack Daniel’s. He would hold his thumb over the bottle so I didn’t actually have to drink, except for a few nights when he moved his thumb so loads of Jack cascaded down my throat. Maybe it was his revenge because I wouldn’t take heroin with him.
EVANGELIST DENISE MATTHEWS: The earth has been known for vomiting itself up because of the sin and idolatry it produces. That is just what happened to my body. I had a demented, careless vision of my future and it wasn’t very bright, but isn’t that what the limelight is–the green slime underneath a fi
lthy bathroom toilet seat?
NIKKI: I thought the Limelight was a club in NYC?
EVANGELIST DENISE MATTHEWS: Eventually it is idolatry, and that is what the Devil has led us to believe is the road to stardom, fortune, riches and the glamorous life, as if to fulfill our every desire. But then you wake up and find yourself lost and alone. We go from one person to the next looking for love and can’t find it because we haven’t healed our insides yet. We feel filthy inside and try our hardest to be pretty outside. Most people are walking around in a daze wishing they weren’t alive.
JULY 15TH, 1987 MET CENTER MINNEAPOLIS, MN
Backstage, 8:20 p.m.
After tonight’s show we fly straight to Chicago. I don’t see any end to this tour…
JULY 16TH, 1987 ROSEMONT HORIZON CHICAGO, IL
Hotel, Chicago, 6 a.m.
Did a ton of cocaine tonight with Tommy and Fred after the Met show and on the plane to here. Went to an underground club in Chicago at 3 a.m.…the usual whores and hangers-on. I loved it, but now the girls are gone, my ears are ringing and I’m coked out of my mind watching the sun come up. So I’m gonna rant…let me grab a couple Halcions and a cocktail…then I gotta get some sleep.
Sometimes I feel like we’re a dirt magnet. All the lawsuits and accusations are just a way for slimeballs to try and rape us for our money. People think we’re so fucking rich. If they really understood how much we spend on a tour like this (or any other) they would be blown away.
Out of 100% of the money made, tours like this bring in about 20-30% after all the costs (this shit ain’t cheap). Then we split it four ways, and then there’s that asshole Uncle Sam. So out of $10 million we bring home say $3 million. Split it four ways equals about $750,000, then tax that…gives each guy about $400,000.