Duff McKagan - Its So Easy: And Other Lies

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Copyright 2011 by Duff McKagan

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Touchstone Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

The names and identifying details of some of the people described in the book have been changed to protect their privacy.

First Touchstone hardcover edition October 2011

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Designed by Joy OMeara

Manufactured in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

McKagan, Duff.

Its so easy : (and other lies) / Duff McKagan.

p. cm.

A Touchstone Book.

1. McKagan, Duff. 2. Bass guitaristsUnited StatesBiography. 3. Guns n Roses (Musical group) I. Title.

ML418.M2A3 2011

787.87'166092dc22

[B]

2011013545

ISBN 978-1-4516-0663-8
ISBN 978-1-4516-0665-2 (ebook)

For Marie Alice McKagan

He went on and on down the road, finally coming to a black woods, where he hid and wept as if his heart would break. Ah, what agony was that, what despair, when the tomb of memory was rent open and the ghosts of his old life came forth to scourge him!

Upton Sinclair, The Jungle

CONTENTS

PART ONE
KNOCKIN ON HEAVENS DOOR

PART TWO
JUST AN URCHIN LIVING UNDER THE STREET

PART THREE
LOADED

PART FOUR
ID LOOK RIGHT UP AT NIGHT AND ALL ID SEE WAS DARKNESS

PART FIVE
A GOOD DAY TO DIE

PART SIX
YOU SHINED A LIGHT WHERE IT WAS DARK, ON MY WASTED HEART

PART SEVEN
FALL TO PIECES

PART EIGHT
YOU CANT PUT YOUR ARMS AROUND A MEMORY

My friends and old band members may remember some of the stories I recount differently than I do, but I have found that all stories have many sides. These are my stories. These are my perspectives. This is my truth.

August 2010

DJ Morty is standing behind a table in the backyard. The anemic last rays of a late-afternoon California sun stream over the adobe roof tiles of the single-story house I share with my wife, Susan, and our two girls, Grace and Mae. In front of the DJ table is a small patch of polished wood plankinga portable dancefloor we rented along with a few little tables and chairs.

Morty scans the tracks on his laptop, fiddles with his MP3 console, and double-checks the cords connecting it all to the amp and speakers. Hes getting ready for the party. Ive met Morty a few times at other events around town; I often end up feeling like the middle-aged dork at hipster shindigs, and sometimes the most comfortable thing to do is chat about music with the DJ.

Today, though, as the afternoon fades to evening in Los Angeles, Im even more out of place than usual. Or at least less welcome. Grace is turning thirteen today and were throwing a party. Grace has already told me and her mom to stay completely invisible. Her exact words: Youre not invited.

Ah, the joys of parenthood.

Still, Susan and I are going all out for the party. Birthdays at this age are a big deal. I remember when turning eighteen was considered a milestone, but even at that age my celebration had been limited to a few good friends and family members. Partly its to do with socio-economic differences between my childhood and my childrens. These days we live in a far more affluent area than the one where I grew up. When you can afford more, you do more, and the kids in a neighborhood like this develop a set of expectations. So in addition to the DJ, theres a photo booth and a henna tattoo station.

Another reason weve gone all out is that we suspect this could be the last time Grace, the older of our two girls, will want to celebrate at home. Oh well.

Planning this party was bewildering at times. When I called the photo-booth rental company, the first question they asked me was, What will the theme of the photo paper be?

Huh?

Yeah, the machine spits out stripsfour little passport style photos on each strip. You can have writing along the side.

I got up to speed fast. The strips of passport photos will read Graces 13th Birthday Party.

Now the day of the party has arrived and Im making sure everything is ready. The woman at the henna tattoo table has her book of patterns set out and is comfortably settled into a chair. I take her a glass of water. I hungrily eye the food table, where the makings of a delicious Mexican feast are being laid out. The caterer is even dredging up tortillas, made from scratch, out of a kettle of oil. Theres also an ice-cream bar. I love ice cream. This is going to be a kick-ass party.

DJ Morty puts on Princes Controversy and cranks the amp up to party volume. I yell to Susan. When she joins me in the backyard, I drag her out onto the little dancefloor and start to shimmy. Little known fact about the original members of Guns N Roses: we dance. Everyone knows Axls serpentine slither, of course. Far fewer people know that Slash is also a world-class Russian crouch-down-and-kick-your-legs-out dancer. And me, well

Dad! Grace yells.

I stop in the middle of a move and turn to look at her.

People are going to start arriving any minute!

Shes mortified. Already.

Yes, yes, yes, I can deal with this. Shes just growing up.

As Graces friends start to show up, Grace again makes it clear that she has forbidden us from coming out to the backyard during the party. Apparently parents are an embarrassment at this age. Whatever. Peeking out the back door as the party gets into gear, I see little packs of boys and girls hanging out, smiling, and laughing shyly. Some of these kids are starting to look like adultsone of the boys is almost my height.