A NIGHT OUT

CR presents the second in an exclusive series from Alan Niven's forthcoming book Sound N' Fury.

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My name is Alan Niven. I am going to tell you some stories. Random rock'n'roll stories. Populated by an interesting cavalcade of characters. Among them are Guns N' Roses. I took them from the gutters of Sunset Boulevard to Wembley Stadium. I took Great White from the backwater clubs of Orange County to Wembley Arena. Along the way we all joined the parade of misfits and madmen that strut and fret their hour upon their stage.

Every story paints a picture. Of personality. Of an event. I hope that at least they will amuse. At best they might contain the germ of wisdom’s insight.

“Hey, Albert Collins is playing tonight. Wanna go with me?” I readily accepted Slash’s invitation.

As a general but imperfect rule, I did not party with band members. To retain respect there has to be some degree of separation. Besides, I was a family man, I had kids. Our house was a coke-free zone. At least when I was home.

Izzy and I would spend time together on the road. He always had an idea for an adventure – “Hey Niv, wanna rent an airboat and go looking for gators?” Or “Niv, there's this place in Lower Manhattan called the Hellfire Club. Will you take me?” I took him to the JuJu shop, Barringtons, in New Orleans. After the Donington tragedy we hung out together in London. We rented Harleys in Lafayette and explored the country roads. We took our own bikes through the hills behind Malibu. I took him to dinner at Studley Priory, England, where they filmed A Man For All Seasons. You get the picture. Socialising with the others, however, was not that commonplace. Of course, [Great White's Jack] Russell was an entirely different story.

But a night out with just Curly was a rare treat.