Sixx Nikki - Motley Crue: a Visual History: 1983-1990

Some people are repulsed at the sight of blood. Most run in horror when the throat of a well-deserving victim is slit, the blood glazing like molasses slowly down his neck and soaking the favorite shirt he had put on that morning, having no idea it was for the last time. Yet you can catch these same people peeking thru their fingers for a glimpse of the diabolical deed, then only to scamper back off into their boring, mundane, half-assed lives and rant about their high morals and lower-than-low, white trash religion. I like to think of those people as heartless heartless because they have no desire to kill, conquer, mutate and/or devastate in the name of making a difference on this earth. They live with their noses firmly plugged and held high so as not to smell the fear disguised as piss that runs down the inside of their pant leg. But its OK for them to watch the six oclock news while sitting around the dinner table, firing off opinions like missiles into the enemy camp. The enemy, of course, is anybody they dont understand, and theyre gonna be sure you understand that they are different. But its funny how even if theyre trying to make a point, they have no real desire to take a stand. Theyre sheep, scared lambs who will never be on the lam, worthless, weak, and probably repulsed by their own lives, if they would just stop long enough to notice.

And then one day mom yells to dad, who yells at the kids to turn that fucking music down. Its the devils music they say, over and over like a chant. And then it happens the kids yell back. For the first timeyesthey find something to make them not feel helpless, like their parents, or their teachers, or the talking heads on TV that hypnotize mom and dad to sleep every night. Musicangry, loud, rude musicechoes down the halls of high schools and on the streets of hell knows where, and it could be heard, Theyre here to destroy the world, and were gonna help them. That was day one, and one day at a time, we did just that, tearing away at the safety net that was intended to save our lives. We just prefer the excitement that, if we fall, were gonna hit the ground at 123 mph, face first. Thats what makes us so special: low IQ, high rpm, and the middle finger firmly shoved in everybodys faces.

Now that Ive introduced the situation, I guess I can write in first person. My name is Nikki Sixx. I am one of four. The other three are Vince Neil, Tommy Lee, and Mick Mars. We are collectively known as Mtley Cre.

We were established in 1981, Jan 17th, to be exact. Some say it was the beginning of the end, and I tend to agreethe end of all bands looking, smelling, and in fact stinking all the same. Of course that would return shortly, even on our own watch, as the copycats and record company rats tried to figure out our secret ingredient. To be honest, the secret is so highly toxic that I usually suggest those wanting to try it be careful of the dosage, cause with us even a low dosage is an overdose, and usually equals death, something that never scared us off. In fact, even though it eludes us, we embrace it.

I first met Neil Zlozower in 1982 and I liked him right away. He was one of us. He, too, was a pirate. He knew all the other pirates, gypsies, and vagabonds that came before us, who dressed like rock stars and werent willing to act right. And so it began, the documentation in pictures, a visual aid to a life misspent, doing the wrong thing in the name of rock n fucking roll.

This book is important. It captures the truth, not a band dressed up by a stylist, groomed by the latest hottest hairdressers and designers. No record company publicist telling us what was okay or not okay. Just four guys, doing whatever the hell we wanted to do, and one man with a camera, capturing it, play by play, the good, the bad and the ugly

I feel honored to have been such a part of Neil Zlozowers list of achievements, even if the award going to him will probably be Motherfucker of the Year.

Nikki Sixx