Alice in Chains

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Alice in Chains Page 1

by David de Sola




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  For Ñañi and Titía

  Our music is a way to express things that we wouldn’t talk about—things that are that heavy and that dark. These are feelings that everybody experiences. That’s why people relate to it.

  —Jerry Cantrell

  The historian’s task is not to disrupt for the sake of it, but it is to tell what is almost always an uncomfortable story and explain why the discomfort is part of the truth we need to live well and live properly. A well-organized society is one in which we know the truth about ourselves collectively, not one in which we tell pleasant lies about ourselves.

  —Tony Judt

  Introduction

  It is the tale, not he who tells it.

  —STEPHEN KING

  THE PAST THREE YEARS have seen a revival of interest in the Seattle grunge scene that dominated music in the early 1990s. Anniversaries of landmark albums, deaths, and actual or pending inductions to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame have all sparked an interest in the people and place that made the music of that era. Of Seattle’s “Big Four,” Nirvana dominates most of the attention, in large part because of the life and talent of Kurt Cobain, as well as the post-Nirvana success of Dave Grohl and the controversies involving Courtney Love and the Cobain estate. Pearl Jam also draws a great deal of attention and has the distinction of being the only one of the four bands that has continuously kept going for almost twenty-five years as of this writing. Soundgarden broke up, and Chris Cornell carried on as a solo artist and as part of Audioslave, before regrouping in 2010.

  But the story of Alice in Chains is the most interesting for several reasons: how Layne Staley emerged as one of the most influential vocalists of his generation, inspiring legions of imitators; their prolific output despite the relatively short period of activity—three studio albums, two EPs, and one live album during the period between 1989 and 1996; how it was the first band out of the gate in getting a nationwide following, heavy airplay on MTV, and a gold record; and also as a cautionary story of how a talented band nearly lost it all and not everyone lived to tell the tale.

  At the end of the day, it comes down to the music, which lives on in people’s hearts, homes, on the radio, in films and television shows, and on the Internet. Mozart and Beethoven died centuries ago, but people are still listening to The Marriage of Figaro and the Ninth Symphony. Alice in Chains has withstood the test of time and aged well in spite of the difficult circumstances with which the band had to deal. The fact that the band continues to record new material and perform live is a testament to the enduring power and quality of their work.

  In the summer of 2011, I was in between my first and second year of graduate school at Georgetown University and working at 60 Minutes. Between work and school, I had a lot on my plate, which required a lot of late-night reading. During one of these reading sessions, for no particular reason, I put on Dirt, which I hadn’t listened to in a very long time. I’d had it in some shape or form since 1992 or 1993—first on cassette, later on CD, and now as an MP3.

  I played it all the way through and was reminded of what a good album it is. At that point, I did a little bit of online research. I’d heard that the band had regrouped with a new singer and released a new album. I looked online for any biography or book about them, thinking that someone must have written something in the years since Layne Staley’s death, and found nothing along the lines of what I was looking for. It was at that point that I first got the idea of writing this book. I suppose my reason for writing it is similar to George Mallory’s famous response to the question of why he wanted to climb Mount Everest: because it’s there.

  I started working on the book in August 2011 as soon as my work and school obligations were done. I took the first of several reporting trips to Seattle to do on-the-ground research. Three years, dozens of on-the-record sources, and hundreds of pages of public records later, I finished what is the first biography of Alice in Chains.

  Officially, the band’s story began at what is now a giant hole in the ground in Ballard—the site of what once was the Music Bank, where one day in late 1987 the four founding members met and jammed for the first time. I wanted to go back further, to find out how and why the four of them got to that place at that time and what they did individually and as a group in the years after.

  I should make it clear what this book is and is not.

  This book was done without the cooperation of the band, their management, or their record label. It was challenging, but not impossible, to get around their policy of not commenting. I don’t like the terms authorized and unauthorized biographies for different reasons. To me, authorized biographies carry a connotation of official public-relations spin, in addition to the blessing and cooperation of the subjects. That is not what this book is. On the other hand, unauthorized biographies sound like the content is sleazy, gossipy tabloid trash. That is not what this book is, either. Although drugs are part of the story, I didn’t want this book to be Requiem for a Dream with a Seattle grunge setting. I also didn’t want this book to read like a typical rock band biography. The approach and writing were more influenced by the works of Walter Isaacson and Bob Woodward than Stephen Davis or Mick Wall—no disrespect to Mr. Davis or Mr. Wall.

  This book is the improbable, funny, tragic, and ultimately triumphant story of how Alice in Chains came to be and emerged as one of the most influential bands of the Seattle grunge scene. It is also the culmination of more than a decade of experience in journalism and academia, and I’ve tried to adhere to the high standards I’ve encountered in both.

  PART I

  1967–1984

  I never planned out my life. Shit just happens.

  —Layne Staley

  Chapter 1

  You can’t freaking sing!

  —KEN ELMER

  LAYNE RUTHERFORD STALEY was born on Tuesday, August 22, 1967, at Overlake Hospital in Bellevue, Washington. His parents, Phillip Blair Staley and Nancy Elizabeth Layne, were living in the town of Kirkland, located along the eastern shore of Lake Washington.1

  Layne’s birth was announced in the “Born Yesterday” section of the next day’s edition of The Seattle Times. Under the subheading “To Mr. and Mrs.—” the section is an alphabetical listing of every child born the previous day in each hospital in the greater Seattle area. The final birth listed under Overlake Hospital reads, “Phillip B. Staley, 10146 N.E. 64th St., Kirkland, boy.”2

  Phil and Nancy, who were twenty-nine and nineteen at the time, had been married by a minister nearly six months earlier in a ceremony witnessed by Paul R. Staley, the groom’s brother, and Margaret Ann Layne, the bride’s sister. The previous summer, Nancy had competed in the Miss Washington Pageant as Miss Bellevue. When Phil and Nancy’s engagement was announced in January 1967, Nancy was a student at the Cornish School of Allied Arts.3 She was the oldest of Robert L. Layne and Ann J. Becker’s three daughters. Her parents were both gradua
tes of the University of Washington, where they were involved in the fraternity and sorority scene on campus.

  Phil was the oldest of Earl R. and Audrey Staley’s four sons. He went to Denver University, where he was a member of the Sigma Chi fraternity. A car salesman by profession, Phil had the car business in his genes going back two generations.4 His father, Earl R. Staley, had been involved in trailer manufacturing and related industries since 1935, when he was just twenty-one years old. Phil’s grandfather, Earl B. Staley, was born in Kansas in 1884, from which the family relocated to Denver, according to the 1900 U.S. Census. Earl, who worked in the automobile and truck industry, began his career in Denver in 1903, working in various capacities in the field until he relocated to Seattle in 1907 after accepting a job as service manager for the Pacific Coast Automobile Sales Company.5

  In September 1970, when Layne was three, his mother gave birth to his sister Elizabeth Audreyann Staley. His affinity for music showed at an early age. Layne told Rolling Stone his first memory was of looking up at a musical carousel hanging over his crib.6

  According to his other sister Jamie Elmer, Layne was known for being very focused as a child. “He would really be into whatever drawing he was doing or art project. He was really focused. I remember [Nancy] saying that [if] he was really focused on … drawing something or playing with Legos or Tinkertoys [and] she’d put a sandwich in front of his nose … he wouldn’t even notice. He was so into whatever art or craft he was doing at the time.”

  She also described Layne as being very close to Liz. “I don’t ever remember hearing stories of them not being close. And definitely because of them having the same parents and being full brother and sister, there was a closeness between the two of them that was pretty apparent and special and different than with the rest of us.”

  After seven years of marriage, on October 30, 1974, Phil filed for divorce. The filing does not provide a specific cause, stating only that the marriage was “irretrievably broken.” Through his attorney, Phil proposed a settlement and child-support plan. Because Nancy never went to court or filed a motion to contest the documents filed by Phil, his attorney successfully argued that the court issue an order of default accepting Phil’s proposal.7

  James Kenneth Elmer was an appraiser working for a bank where Nancy was working as part of a public relations campaign. Jim went to a Christmas party in December 1974, which Nancy also attended, where they were introduced by a mutual friend. Jim isn’t sure if he’d call his initial reaction love at first sight, but said “It was certainly interesting. I certainly took notice.”

  It was a fairly quick courtship—a matter of a few months. The first time Jim met Layne and Liz was at Nancy’s mother’s home. “One evening, we were going to go out. The kids were there. At that age, they’re just real delightful. Nothing spectacular happened, but that’s when I first met them.” Jim didn’t think the kids understood the idea that he was dating their mother at the time. His impressions of Layne: “He’s a sensitive child, smart kid. Certainly loved his sister and mom.” As the relationship became serious, they talked to Layne and Liz about it.

  On June 13, 1975, two months after Nancy’s divorce from Phil was finalized, she married Jim Elmer. Nancy would eventually take her new husband’s surname. At the time, Layne was two months shy of his eighth birthday. In addition to Layne and Liz, Ken, Jim’s son from his first marriage, was added to the mix. Of his parents’ divorce and his mother’s remarriage, Layne would say years later, “No deep, dark secrets there. I remember sometimes wondering where my dad was, but most of the time I was too busy running around and playing.”8

  Ken’s parents had divorced when he was three years old. A few years later, they both remarried within one or two weeks of each other. Under the visitation terms worked out by his parents, Ken had a schedule where he would see his father every weekend, as well as during summers and holidays for extended visits. “Layne and I got together and got along very quickly. Liz was a year younger than me, so she was about four, he was probably seven turning eight, and I was five turning six. So it was a good age. I remember we picked on Liz quite a bit in life, but that’s what older brothers do,” Ken said.

  Jim offered a similar recollection. “I think they became reasonably close. You’ve got three little kids. You’re always going to have some type of dynamic and so forth. But by and large, we did things with the three of them and kept everybody involved.”

  “Layne was always a gentle kid, a kind kid—smart in his own way. Not school smart, but certainly incredibly intelligent, as we learned later in life,” Ken added. Layne played T-ball in elementary school, Jim said, but didn’t show much interest in sports as he got older. Ken recalled watching Seattle Seahawks football games with his father on TV, during which Layne would get bored and leave the room. Academically, Jim described Layne as “a reasonably good student. I don’t think he was straight-A, but he seemed to like school. He had his group of friends.” He also noted, “I don’t remember any drama with him being in school until he started to grow up.”

  Though Layne’s serious interest in music wouldn’t develop until a few years later, one noteworthy event happened in October 1975, when Elton John was on tour and was scheduled to perform two nights at the Seattle Center Coliseum. Jim wanted to go to the show. He doesn’t remember how this came about, but he took Layne to what would be his first concert.9 As the lights went down before the start of the show, people inside the venue began smoking marijuana. Layne looked around, looked at Jim, and asked “Dad, do you smell that stuff?”

  As far as Layne’s impressions of the show, Jim said, “He was certainly not bored. He certainly enjoyed the music. It was sold out. You had a lot of people, well-behaved, there was excitement. He was just taking it all in at that age.”

  In the first year or two after Nancy married Jim Elmer, Phil would come by occasionally to see Layne and Liz. Eventually, Phil started spending progressively less time with them, leading to a major decision within the family.

  “In Liz’s case, she got to the point where she wanted to have a stay-at-home dad. While she and Phil got along, once he started to kind of disappear, she wanted a little more stability, and [to] know that she could count on somebody. We talked with her about being adopted and she liked that idea.” The Elmers went through the process so Jim could legally adopt Liz as his daughter, a decision Phil—who declined to be interviewed for this book—consented to. As a result, she legally changed her surname to Elmer. Layne felt very differently about the situation. According to Jim, “He was waiting for his dad to come back and didn’t want to be adopted.” He would use the Elmer surname through high school, but he never legally changed it like Liz did.

  Layne and Ken developed an interest in music during the late 70s and early 80s, according to Ken. “We both gravitated very heavily to that hair-band rock and roll: Twisted Sister, Ozzy, Scorpions—I mean, that’s all we listened to.” Layne’s tastes weren’t limited to the metal and hard rock of the day. At one point, Ken remembers Layne being a big fan of Billy Joel’s Glass Houses album. “I remember for a year or so, he was so into that that it was crazy. And that was at a very young age.” Jim remembers him liking Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours.

  When Layne was between ten and twelve years old, Jim took him and a few boys from the neighborhood to a Van Halen concert. “That’s where they really started to like the music, I think. We were down in the general seating area, without any seats, so we were down in that mosh-pit area. So when things started, I got off to the side. The two neighbor boys and Layne were about the same age, and they stayed down there.” He added, “I stayed down there with them for just a little bit, and even in those days, I was the oldest person down there. Some girl came up with her boyfriend and said, ‘You’re really great for being down here.’ I took that as a compliment, because it was action-packed. It was a great concert. I think they stayed down there for the whole thing.”

  Years later, Layne told journalist Jon Wiederhorn he rea
lized he wanted to make music for a living in the fourth grade. “I didn’t know what I was going to play. I started playing the trumpet, then cornet, then drums. I’d listen to my favorite rock bands on headphones and try to imitate them. But when I was fifteen I realized I was getting much better than when I started, so I decided I wanted to sing. At the time I was in a cover band with friends from high school.”10

  Jim’s parents owned a vacation home on Long Beach, Washington, and every summer Jim would take his family there for a week. Ken has many fond memories of Layne during these trips. Ken remembers spending time at the sand dunes or Marsh’s Free Museum. The last year they went, Layne and Ken wound up double-dating a girl from Marsh’s and one of her friends the entire week.

  A major milestone was the birth of Jim and Nancy’s daughter, Jamie Brooke Elmer, on January 20, 1978. At the time, Layne was ten, Ken was nine, and Liz was seven.11 In terms of parenting, Jim credits Nancy for joining a support group with other stay-at-home mothers focused on how to help or improve the parenting process. “That was extremely important,” Jim said. “I think that fostered a lot of good things in the state and certainly within our family, with the girls as they were growing up.” She began the classes within a year or so after Jamie’s birth.

  According to Rolling Stone, Layne took up drums when he was twelve. “Our friend had a drum set and offered to let Layne use it,” Nancy would later recall.12 According to Ken, “He started playing the drums, and he was a pretty good little drummer. But he just never had contacts or never really had that big group of friends to go and form a whole bunch of bands. You’ve just got those pockets of guys who are like that, and Layne just wasn’t like that.”

  The decision to switch from drums to singing was one of the most consequential of Layne’s life. Years later, he explained how it happened. “I was playing drums and I wanted to sing one song, and the singer said, ‘No, you’re a drummer. Drummers don’t sing.’ So we got in a fight and I packed up my drums and got in my van and drove straight downtown, traded in my drum set for a delay, a microphone, and a mic cord, and went home and started practicing. I was horrible at first, but I found my instrument.”13

 

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