I had a birthday coming up in a month, I would be 14 years old. It was time to do something about becoming a musician! I went to the local music store, Guitar Trader, to check out what this venture would cost. That way, I could begin my journey into rock star status. I walked into the store and it was one of the most memorable moments of my teen years. As I entered Guitar Trader, there were mountains of speaker boxes and walls of guitars that seemed to go for miles. There was an energy in the air that I had never felt before that moment. I was overwhelmed by the scent of new items, you know... fresh plastic, polished metal, new paint and crisp carpet! If you are a musician, you are very familiar with this smell. The walls of Guitar Trader were covered with the latest rock bands like Black Sabbath, The Scorpions, Def Leppard, Ozzy Osbourne, Ronnie James Dio, Great White, Iron Maiden, Blue Oyster Cult, and Saxon. Most of the posters were signed “To Guitar Trader, thanks for everything.” I envisioned myself in the near future signing my rock band poster in this very room...
I wandered about the sea of guitars dreaming of the day I could shred on one of these axes! I found the perfect guitar to fit my needs. It was a black and red flame, SG style guitar made by Takamine. It was marked at a selling price of $199.99. I would do anything to purchase this dream guitar. My mom would give me $1.00 each day for lunch. To purchase the guitar I saved every last one of these dollars, along with my $5.00 per week allowance for mowing the lawn. I was already a thin, lanky kid, with no meat on my bones. Not eating lunch only made me even skinnier. In the 80‘s, thin and weak was the perfect look for Rock N Roll. My hair was growing longer, and I was 5’ 8” tall and I weighed 135 pounds. I talked mom into purchasing a pair of parachute pants, several red and blue bandanas, and an Iron Maiden concert shirt. My look was now complete! I just needed a guitar and some lessons and I would be on my way.
I would walk to Guitar Trader everyday after school to stare at my future guitar. Everyday, I would tell my parents that I really wanted to start playing guitar. I would bring photos of the perfect guitar back to our home and share the idea of purchasing the guitar with my parents. They seemed semi-interested in me playing guitar, but said nothing about helping me purchase one. It was now one week before my birthday and of course I returned to Guitar Trader to stare at the Takamine guitar. Guess who I saw in the guitar store? It was my mother! She was speaking with one of the sales representatives off toward the back of the store. I did not want her to see me so I hid behind a Marshall Stack. I thought for sure she was going to purchase my red and black Takamine that I have been pining over for months. I was so excited, I was beside myself. I could not hear what the sales person was telling my mom, but I could see that things were going terribly wrong. I could see them laughing and shaking their heads yes, while they pulled down a cheap acoustic guitar. This guitar that the sales person was selling my mother, had a giant baseball bat neck, nylon strings that were several inches off the fret board, and some sort of phony wood grain finish. Aaahhh crap!!!! What was she thinking!
My 14th birthday arrived and of course I received this “not so exciting” guitar. I tried to act surprised, but I am sure it showed. I got the lecture; “Before an expensive guitar was purchased, we have to make sure you are going to stick with playing first, and you will have to take lessons from a professional. You will also have to learn music theory and be able to read music.” In my head was, “Yea, yea, blah, blah, uh, ok... man this is going to hinder me becoming a rock star!” I smiled and said, “Ok, I’ll do it.” Mom set me up with local music mogul Ken Dormer, from the band Rockola. Ken was a local music hero, so I did not mind taking lessons from him. The lessons did not last very long. After a few months of boring scales and music theory tests, I finally had the balls to tell him, “Ken, this is all cool and everything, but I want to learn the song Iron Man, by Black Sabbath.” Ken must have liked my aggressive take on playing guitar, because after that, all we did was learn cool songs by various artists. Mom caught on, and decided to change my guitar teacher. She spoke with another teacher named Tom Bebe, from the local San Diego band named Assassin. Tom told my mother whatever she wanted to hear like; “Oh yes Mrs. Solberg, we will teach Chris how to read music, teach him music theory and all the important aspects of playing an instrument.” As soon as my mother walked out the door, Tom winked at me, laughed and said, “Your mom is pretty cute... do you think she bought that shit about theory and stuff?” Tom and I never spoke a word about theory or reading music again. He would teach me “rock songs” and “riffs” that the professionals play, and I soaked it up.
My guitar playing accelerated quickly with Tom’s help, and soon I was starting my first rock band with Danny Powell, Ryan Brewer, Mike Hamilton, and Mike Passmore. We named the band Fortress. We played a few shows as Fortress, changed the name to Alliance, played a few more house parties, and I will say... I began to like the rock scene a lot. Alliance was doing very well; we could fill a local Clairemont home with 60 people and walk away being the neighborhood rock stars. I could not get enough. Playing live shows became such an addiction, that I was not happy unless there was 100 people at the party. Then, I was not happy unless there were 150 people at the party. At 15 years of age, I was becoming a music addict that could not cure my thirst for attention.
We started to book shows with local rock bands Bastille, Santa Claus, and Shock. Shock was the hot ticket at the time, and this would satisfy my need for attention when we played with them. They could bring in hundreds of people to any party or club, with no effort. Shock’s singer, Jerry Jones, was a frontman that everybody wanted to get their hands on because he could really move a crowd. Steve Spangler (later nicknamed Spanky by Vinnie Vegas), was amazing and could play just about any riff you could dream up. Then, there was Mike Kiner. Mike was my age, 15 years old, and could pound the shit out of the drums and keep an awesome beat! Mike Kiner went to San Diego’s own Madison High School, just like I did. Mike and I began to talk and hang out at school since we had music in common. Mike asked me one afternoon if I was happy being in my band. I told him that I had never been happier, and was having the time of my life. Mike smiled and paused for a second. He asked me a question that would change my life. “Do you want to audition for a band called Street Angel, led by Vince Votel?” At the time, I was not familiar with Vince Votel, or Street Angel. Mike explained that Votel was a local “Rock Hero” and every band that he performs with has great success. I told Mike I would consider the audition. Mike came by after school and brought a demo tape of Street
Angel to my house, so I could learn a song or two.
My father had built me a semi-sound proof studio so my current band could rehearse and not annoy the neighbors too much. I had the members of Street Angel meet me in the Mable Way garage studio (nick-named studio 415) one afternoon. As soon as the band pulled up in the rickety, old, milky white Dodge van, they poured out and scattered about the driveway with an attitude as if they owned the world. Vince Votel needed no introduction as he walked up to the open studio door, holding a Mickey’s Big Mouth beer in hand, long blonde hair waving in the wind, his forehead lightly dripping with sweat. He nodded his head in my direction saying, “What’s up there Dukey?” I thought to myself, “What the hell is this this guy talking about? Dukey? Is that a word?” As for guitarist David Eric Angel, well... he looked as if he was “ice skating” up the driveway, taking long strides, not really steps, as he
slithered up to the door. Dave had his head slightly cocked to one side, his long blonde hair in his face, wiping it away to give me a quick peek at his eyes as he lowered his mirrored sun glasses to the tip of his nose. Dave greeted me with a smirk and said; “Hey... what’s up dude?” Mike, I already knew him, but he appeared different with Vince and Dave. There was an attitude that came with the group that I was really into! Of course, I had to pass the audition first!Vince grabbed the demo tape that he brought over, waved it in the air and asked, “What “O” Jimmy Coco Puff?” Where is the box to play the jams?” I was thinking...
Is Vince speaking a different language? What is he talking about? What “O”? Jimmy Coco Puff? Shit! Is he asking where my stereo is? I was nervous at hearing the babbling of odd words and strange conversations that came from Vince and Dave. As Vince Votel continued speaking, David Angel, was holding a beer and yelling “Brains!” as he stumbled about the studio. Dave continued his antics by tilting his head back and gargling his beverage. I have never been around such an entertaining, but strange group of guys. They were intimidating and weird to me at first, but I liked their vibe. Vince explained I could borrow the tape so I could learn some of the songs over the next few days. The cassette tape was composed of a mix of songs that were obviously recorded on a 4-track recorder, and a couple of songs produced in a professional studio somewhere in town. The first song I remember was called “Nothing’s Free.” Votel let the song play to the end, stopped the tape and said, “three chords... you can play that so lets go!” The band walked out to their truck, opened the side door, and began to remove their music equipment. Mike told me that we would “jam” the song, and maybe another before they took off for the evening. I was really confused, and frustrated because I had only heard the song once. Now the band expected me to play it for my audition? Before I could absorb what was occurring, we were playing “Nothing’s Free.” We finished the song, and as fast as they set up their music equipment, they were taking everything down and taking the equipment back out to the van. I thought to myself, “Shit! I must have screwed something up.” Just as that thought was crossing my mind, Mike walked over and asked me if he could keep his drums set up for the next rehearsal. I was puzzled, because I thought they were quickly packing up to escape and never come back. It was quite the opposite. Vince said, “Welcome to the band Cupkake!” Just like that, I was in the band. I had thought it was strange that Vince called me Cupkake, but I shrugged my shoulders and could care less... I was now a guitarist in Street Angel. I accepted the position on the spot without considering how my other band Alliance would feel about my departure.
I gave the guys in Alliance the news and that went over like a lead balloon. I felt bad, but I had to give Street Angel a shot. After all, I had never in my life felt such energy from a group of musicians. As I got to know the band, I realized one thing: Vince called a lot of people Cupkake. Vince calling every other person he met Cupkake, it was kinda strange, but that was right on par for Votel. That is why he stood out, he was cut from a different cloth. Not much time had passed before Votel would call me Captain Cupkake, due to my fascination with the cereal Captain Crunch. I guess there was still a little bit of kid left in me. The “Captain” was soon dropped and I was again called Cupkake. Vince eventually stopped calling everyone else Cupkake and began introducing me on stage as the one, the only, Cupkake. And there it was...the nickname that stuck for the remainder of my music career.
Street Angel played backyard parties every single weekend for months on end. I will boast that we were on top of the world, and it was time to take the second important step... studio recording. We hired a local hot-shot producer named Vince DeSanti to complete our recording project. We spent an entire weekend recording four songs. Those four songs would be on the radio just one week after we finished recording them. Votel called me and said that our songs would be on San Diego’s 101 KGB FM around 2 p.m. that very day. Sure as shit, we were played...the music never sounded better to me. I had done it! I broke radio silence! Every musicians dream. The rotation on the radio continued, with all four of our recorded songs. There were days I would be driving home from Madison High School, and I would hear our band being played on the radio. I would be out with friends partying at the sandy beaches of Fiesta Island, on a hot summer night, where everyone had their car stereos cranked on the same station. It was never long before I would hear our songs full blast, echoing across the waters of the beach. Could it get any better? Yes! We were invited into 101 KGB FM to do a radio interview and have even more of our songs played on their station! More! I always wanted more. We always wanted more. No matter how much success we had, we were never satisfied.
The next step was to make a semi-professional music video. Enough said... We did! The “Cheap Date” video was made. What next? More, more, more! Heavier advertisements, more band fliers, bigger shows, more people. We had the sickness of self gratification. The band would travel to Hollywood with two full fan buses in tow. We would repeat the process several times by performing in numerous sold out shows on the Sunset Strip. Street Angel landed a show with an up and coming band going through an identity crisis. The name of the band was Hollywood Rose. The band was changing band members like most people were changing underwear. Hollywood Rose, temporarily became Hollywood Guns and Roses which switched quickly to LA Guns and Roses and then finally to LA Guns. How do I remember this so well? While I was making our fliers, the changes occurred a half a dozen times. Yes, finally a few weeks before the big show, the band was, and remained LA Guns. I guess the story is simply this... the members of Guns N Roses and LA Guns at one time all played together, and then broke up to create the separate bands.
The big night was here and Vince Votel decided that we should really stand out during this show. We all agreed, and asked each other what we should do. Well, Vince told us that we should wear our Hawaiian shirts and white pants and keep the “Glam” look going, even though we were opening up for a hard rock band that might not stand for that look. We did just that, and to the crowd, we were one hell of a success! To LA Guns, we were the ass-holes making a mockery of the metal scene. We had full facial makeup, bright red lipstick, and everything “glam” that we could wear. LA Guns was wearing black leather with spikes and chains. We could not have stood out anymore than we did. It was a bitchin’ show with hundreds of people thoroughly entertained by our music and antics!
A few days passed and the hunger to have more success was insatiable. The summer was rapidly approaching, we had continuous prime time radio play with four different songs, and we were playing shows with hundreds of fans, every week. I never asked Vince Votel how he was able to book the next big show. We had the only opening slot for an up and coming band called Warrant. This would be the biggest show to date... even bigger than LA Guns. The Warrant show was scheduled to be held at San Diego’s North Park Theater, capable of holding a thousand people. Keep in mind, I had just turned 16 years old and was still in High School. This type of success was not imaginable to most people, much less a 16 year old. I thought this success and fame was normal. At sixteen, you form a band, join another band, get on the radio, play big shows with major touring acts... all normal right? Shit!!! I took those days for granted!! We played the Warrant show, and had a great time, with huge success. At this point, I was a full fledged, cocky little shit, and felt that I could do no wrong. The stage, the people, it was all almost too much to possibly imagine. The Warrant show was completely sold out, and packed with screaming fans. We were on top of the world, imagining a world tour just around the corner. After the Warrant show, we were told that we had a slot to open up for a new act on the rock circuit called Bon Jovi. This show would be the show of all shows, to be held at the San Diego Sports Arena, seating 12,000 people. So how do you knock a cocky little sixteen year old shit off his high-horse? Well, first the Bon Jovi show got cancelled, and then Vince Votel and Mike Kiner leave Street Angel to join a Hollywood glam band called Ruby Slippers, that’s how!
What the FUCK just happened?
I could not believe Votel and Kiner were leaving Street Angel for another band... what a kick in the balls! It felt like the entire world collapsed when that news got to me. I was depressed at first, but I got myself out of the funk by heading over to my staple hangout... The Sheppard’s place! John Sheppard was the drummer of the band Bastille who I hung out with all the time. John and his sister Tracy Sheppard always had the swingin’ place to hang out. This house was always the place to be, with beer flowing and fun to be had 24-7. The guys in Bastille were also very good friends and gave me su
pport when I was down from the Street Angel breakup. When a band breaks up, it is similar to a relationship breakup. It can be just as much of a heartbreak, and maybe even more. After a wild weekend of beer, shots, beer, shots, beer, more shots, and an overwhelming amount of drunken input from my peers on how to correct the situation, (and throwing up in one of the closets of their home... sorry guys), it all became very clear to me. I needed to start my own band! Not more than three days passed before I was placing an add in the local music paper looking for a bass player, and a drummer to start a new band. A day after the ad appeared in the paper, a bass player named Vince Meehan (Vinnie Vegas) called me regarding the ad. After a good conversation with Vinnie, I agreed that I would stop by his place located a couple miles from my home, and drop off a demo tape so he could audition for the band. When I arrived at Vinnie’s apartment, the second we met, we knew this was going to be a good friendship. Vinnie was cool from the moment we met. He was not obnoxious or flaky like most of the musicians that I had met time and time again. Vinnie was playing Guns N Roses, Appetite for Destruction on his stereo the moment I entered his living room. None of my friends had heard of Guns N Roses at that time, because Guns N Roses were so new to the music scene. I had purchased the G&R album (yes there were only records and tapes then!) and had been playing it so much, I was going to wear the grooves out of the record. Vinnie and I became instant friends. It was not long before Vinnie, and l had our new band taking off. We wanted a new, fresh name other than Street Angel. After all, we had to relieve David Angel of his position in the band because of some differences we had. After David was gone, we desperately needed a second guitar player, a drummer and a lead singer. I was able to recruit a local and long time friend that played guitar very well, and would make a perfect addition to the band. This person was Danny Powell (later known as Will Powell of Dying Regret). We then hired a drummer named Dean. He was a local well-to-do realtor that could play drums well, and had an Italian Mobster look that would fit the rock scene. As for a singer, we would have to endure a long and painful audition process and by the end of it, I was surprised to still be in the music business. Finally, we had found the person that could fill the shoes of our singer. His name was Cory Hubbard (later nicknamed Porridge) Now what do we call the band? We named the band fairly fast, because that is how Vinnie and I were moving... fast! We decided to call the band Point Blank. Vinnie designed a logo for the band which featured a naked girl in the crosshairs of a rifle scope. This band, in the beginning, was a suck-pile of shit! Dean would want to re-write the songs every other day, and then would rather party than finish one song. After a rough month with Dean, I finally had to give him the bad news that he was no longer in the band. Dean was replaced by a local drummer named Curtis Yarlbourogh who called himself Curtis Roxx. Curtis was an odd fellow that was not the best drummer I had ever played with, but he did know how to keep a solid beat. Plus, he never argued during the writing sessions. He got the job! Within weeks of our new Point Blank lineup, it was time to test the waters with a live show. I spoke with the owner of a favorite club located in Mission Valley called Club Mirage. I was able to get a show on a Saturday night, so we would have to fill the club with tons of fans if we wanted to come back and play more shows. After a few long weeks of posting fliers across the entire city, we played a sold out show to a wild audience. We would repeat this process until one night Vinnie and I decided that we should move to Hollywood and push our success to the next level. Summer arrived, I had graduated from High School, and was now on my way to moving on with my music career... Hollywood, here we come!!!
Hollywood: Rock Of Ages Page 16