Authors: Bobby Blotzer
Anyway, a few nights ago, I ran into Frankie Banali, the drummer for Quiet Riot. We were at a club called "Howl at the Moon" over in Universal City. It's a hangout for a lot of the guys from the 80s, and a great time. Especially on Wednesday nights. I'm in there, just sort of soaking up the room, when Frankie walks in. It's only been a couple of weeks since they found Kevin in Vegas, so the wounds of his death were still really fresh for me, but Frankie was a bit of a wreck.
Keep in mind, Frankie and I were caught on opposite sides of this feud. It's not that we couldn't stand each other, as much as we simply defended our own camps. We didn't get along, even though none of this bullshit started with us. So, when he came up to me and started talking, I was a little taken aback.
We immediately started talking about Kevin's death. It was clear that Frankie was pretty much devastated by it, and I really felt pain for the guy. It was hard to have that talk, just because of all the emotion involved. He told me that he would never take Quiet Riot back out on the road. Not in any form. That made sense, I guess. We'll see how the future financials for Quiet Riot work out without DuBrow.
With RATT, we had learned that something gets lost when you change your front man. It's like the face of the band changes, and people don't recognize you anymore, yet, you're still trying to be who you once were. That would be double so for Quiet Riot, because Kevin had been so outspoken and notorious that he was the identity of that group.
Frankie said he wanted to bury the hatchet. Which, I was willing to do, but I couldn't help but think that it took Kevin DuBrow killing himself with cocaine for us to get to this point. Frankie and I went back all the way to 1979. We were two very similar drummers with similar styles and influences. We always knew we were both pretty equal in ability, so, there was always somewhat of a rivalry based just on that.
When he came up and started talking to me, it was the olive branch that could have and should have been extended years before. Honestly, either of us could have done it at any time. So, hopefully, that whole thing is behind us, and there's a friendship to build on there. It's just unfortunate that it took someone dying to make something like that happen.
I've always respected Frankie as player, and I know he respected me. We told each other that in the early days. When we hit it in 1984, I was buying a house, and I knew he had just bought a house off of the "Metal Health" album. So, I called him up, and was like, "I've got no idea how, or even a concept of what to do when it comes to buying a home. Do you have any tips?” It was a two-fold thing. One, I needed his advice, but two, it was sort of announcing that RATT was there, too. We were in the same vein again.
Then, I ran into him after the 1984 tour at some bar in Universal. This was after Kevin had been running his mouth about everybody on the scene. I was like, "What are you going to do about your singer, man?”
He just exploded! "You fucking worry about shit in your camp, Bobby! I'll worry about shit in mine!” He was real heavy.
I just put my hands up. "Don't shoot.” Frankie was getting pretty weird about the whole thing. We were never the same after that.
When I would see him, it was still pretty cool for a while. We'd see each other occasionally, and it was still hugs and shit. Then, on a website called Metal Sludge, he did a 20 questions kind of thing, and they always ask you to rate other players, on a scale of 1-10, you know?
When they asked him to rate me, he goes, "I'm not going to even answer that. Because Blotz knows I think he sucks just like he thinks I suck.” I'm like, "What the fuck? Where's he get off going out on me like that?” I considered e-mailing him about it. But, again, I'm not an innocent peach in this. There have been a few times where I've said shit, and he's said shit. Although, it was almost always about Kevin DuBrow, not Quiet Riot itself.
We toured with them in 2005, and I saw how Frankie had become. He was unscrupulous. I thought he was just brutal. There was a side of Frankie that I didn't know and didn't like. The "bro" side was still there, only it was laced with a crocodile smile. It was the kind of smile that promised to hurt you if you turned your back.
When we patched it up a few nights ago, he said, "This is business, bro, but I always knew where your heart was. I want to bury the hatchet with this right now.”
I didn't really understand that, coming from him. It's almost like he was saying, "Blotz, you're an asshole with the way you do business.” But, whatever.
"That's good with me, Frankie. Just remember that none of this bullshit started with me. We didn't perpetuate it.” And, that's where I left it.
I've never envied his position in having to deal with Kevin. We both had our "singer demons" to contend with, so I'm not shining myself in a better light. But, it couldn't have been easy for Frankie. We just got mired up in it, and sooner or later, that shit has to get to you.
The night Frankie and I spoke, it was the first time he had been out since Kevin's death. He was pretty down. The guy was in mourning. That was obvious. Plus, his gig just went away. He still has the rights to the band name, and there's ways he can make a living off that, but he made it clear to me that touring was over. Touring is where they made their money. It's not a good time for him. Not right now. All of which made me think, "Thank God for RATT.”
The morning that the story had broken about Kevin's overdose, my phone started ringing with text messages at 4:00 AM from people back east who were already up and heard it. The whole thing affected me in a very strange way. I despised Kevin! I couldn't stand the way he was!
I couldn't help but think, "Jesus, dude. How could you be such a fuck up? You fucked it up for yourself, and everyone who loved you! What the fuck was wrong with you, man?”
It was anger. I'd watched this guy ruin his life for almost 30 years, and ultimately ruin everyone else's life around him. But, I could have done that, too. I could go out, get drunk, and kill somebody on my way home. It happens all the time. It happened to Vince Neil, and Vince was a good friend.
I would never do that, though. I drive perfect when I drink, as ridiculous a statement like that is to make in this political climate. Flipped out "mothers against anyone who drinks" political climate. But, it's true. I'm focused when I'm behind a wheel. I've never been close to an accident while drinking. But, it still was possible.
Every time I think about drinking and driving, I think of Sam Kinison. "It's not that we WANT to drink and drive! It's just that we don't have another way to get our fucking car home!”
I heard another comedian say once that 33% of all road deaths are caused by drunk drivers; but, that means 67% of them are pulled off by fuckers who are completely sober! Take that for what you will (by the way, send all your hate mail about these statements to my manager. He'll love that!).
Hopefully, we've put all the vicious, vindictive Quiet Riot vs. RATT shit to bed. I would like that. And, while Frankie and I aren't going to be picking out curtains together, we might be friendly again.
We'll see.
We went out with Motley in 1984, while on the Cellar tour. That was...that was when history became legend.
Our history with Mötley Crüe is colorful, to say the least. But of all those guys, Tommy Lee is my bro! Tommy and I go way back. Back in the day, we hung out a lot; Did a lot of dirt bike riding, things like that. We don't see each other as much, these days. Being who we are, life simply gets in the way. But, when we do get together, it's like we see each other every day. T-Bone is rocker family.
Heather Locklear's sister, Laurie, was married to this guy Terry Ahearn, who I still see from time to time. Terry, Tommy, Vince and I used to go dirt bike riding, along with Mickey Diamond who was a champion motorcross rider. We used to have a lot of fun together like that.
Tommy and I were out together the night he met Heather. We went to see REO Speedwagon, and we were hanging out at the Forum Club, which was an elite type of place at the Forum where you had to have a VIP Pass to get in. We were at the bar, hanging out with all of our friends who were there, when I saw Heather Locklear and Scott Baio walk in.
I was like "T-Bone, check that out. It's Heather Locklear.”
Tommy went, "Aw, dude, she's fucking hot! She is so hot! We have the same dentist!”
"That's awesome, bro. Really.”
Tommy's all giddy, and he's already loaded with liquid courage, courtesy of Mr. Daniels.
He flashes this troublesome grin he has, and goes, "I'm going to go talk to her, dude.”
I was like, "Don't even go over there, bro! Not right now. She's with Baio.”
He's like, "Naw, man, I'm going to do it right now. I'm going to call my dentist and get her number.”
And, he did. He called me a few weeks later and went, "Guess who I'm going out with?”
I'm like, "You motherfucker!” So, I couldn't wait to hear about the first time he fucked her.
Took him a while, too. It was something like three months before he closed the deal. I don't know who was more impatient about it, T-Bone, or me.
Over the years, Jeni and I did a lot of hanging out with Heather and Tommy. There was one time where Heather, Tommy, Jeni and I were out on the town all night, then went back to their place and spent the rest of the night partying.
She was great; a really great girl. Great to hang out with, and a fantastic personality; she had a fun sense of humor, just everything a guy could ever want in a girl. I loved her to death, and she was so unbelievably hot, too!
That night, she was up showing Jeni her jewelry chest. It was this wacky looking pirate's chest full of jewels and baubles. She was showing it off.
Tommy and I were downstairs in the kitchen trading shots, snorting lines, and telling stories of how much we both hated our lead singers! Meanwhile, outside, it's turning blue. The sun is about to come up. Then Tommy, in mid sentence, kinda looks through me and just falls forward.
It was almost like a joke. You know, when you're cutting up, and you're going to act like you're falling forward onto your face, but at the last second, you don't? It was just like that. That's what I thought he was going to do, but at the last second, he didn't stop. He hit, face first, right in the middle of the kitchen floor!
BOOM!
He landed with a big crack of a thud, and never moved!
I went upstairs, "Uh, Heather? Guys? Tommy's, like, out of it down here.”
We picked him up and managed to get him over to the couch. The whole thing was a little scary. I'd not seen anyone that fucked up before. Even when I was touring with them.
That turned out to be shades of dark things to come for T-Bone, and the rest of us in the 80s music crowd. It seems that drugs and alcohol had their crosshairs on us, and it was only a matter of time before we were shot down by them in some fashion or form.
But, that's something for another chapter.
On a fun note, New Year's Eve in 1987, Jeni, Heather, Tommy and me all took a leer jet to Vegas for New Year's. And, in typical Tommy fashion, he got the pilot to do barrel rolls!
Only T-Bone! That dude is a breed unto himself.
Oddly, on the list of groups that we opened for on that tour; Motley, Night Ranger, ZZ Top; there was only one that gave us any grief. Billy Squire. Not Billy himself, but his production people. They were just a pain in the ass.
We were already headlining arena shows by that time, but we had agreed to do a tour with Billy Squire as the headline. It was a little awkward. I don't think anyone anticipated us taking off so fast, so when the tour was booked, it wasn't a big consideration.
By the time it made it's way around, we were already huge. The Squire leg was less money, less stage space, and a huge pain in the ass. But, management insisted we do it, because they didn't want us developing a bad reputation of leaving tours hanging.
Our first night with Squire, there were no lights. There was very little space on stage for us to use, and Squire had this huge, round thing in the middle of the stage that made it even tighter.
By that time, we were the big band on that tour. Squire was big, but we were blowing him away in the merchandise sales every night. Squire was cool about bringing out the new up-n-coming bands on tour with him. He had us, Def Leppard, and others, that he had run tours with.
We tried to do something similar to that when we were headlining. When we took Poison out with us, no one knew who they were. But as they started to break, we had discovered a formula that works really well. The opening act actually helps the bill.
We got along with the Squire guys pretty well, all things considered, but the tour was a tough one. We should have been headlining, and everyone there knew it. It made for tense relations, because, clearly, RATT-mania was in those crowds.
I did a lot of partying with the late, great Bobby Chouinard, who was the drummer for Billy Squire. He was a great guy.
Bobby passed away a couple of years ago from a cocaine overdose. I can't say I'm completely surprised by that, considering the amount of blow that I witnessed him go through. The guy was ALWAYS on that shit. It was one of those things that eventually catches up to you.
Bobby Chouinard will be sorely missed.
These days, my rituals are set. I'll show up to the gig about an hour before. I'd drink about 3 Coors Lights and start to warm up by stretching, and playing along with my favorite CD's. I'll just tap along on any surface, because going and getting a drum pad would just be too fucking easy! I always use the bus as my dressing room. Especially today. Robbie Crane and I would be in there getting ready. After the show, if I drink, it's red wine. Sometimes I like to throw a Jagerbomb with the guys every now and then, but not very often. My days of hard liquor consumption are behind me, for the most part.
We finished the U.S. leg of the Cellar tour in December of 1984. We all went home for Christmas, which was really great. But, before we could call an end to the tour, we had to hit Japan.
We were all really tired by that point, but nothing prepared us for the Japanese fans. They were maniacal! It was complete "RATT-a-mania", and we were mobbed everywhere we went! Plus, the culture is out of this world, so, it was a whole new experience for us, after 15 months of nothing but whole new experiences!