And it wasn’t Mellencamp.
We’re from Indiana, and Louisiana, and there’s anger and anguish in this album, yeah?
Before Nirvana.
Pearl Jam. Soundgarden. Alice in Chains.
This was the sweet spot of the death throes of the hair band.
This was beyond “Welcome to the Jungle.” And it was nothing like “Sweet Child o’ Mine.”
It wasn’t “Smells Like Teen Spirit” or “Alive” either.
It stood alone.
In that world, it was important to stand alone.
You found that place, you had the talent to back it up, that place was your place.
Forever.
We found that place.
Now, I don’t know how Tom maneuvered that gig so a scout could come out and see us in our element, even if we were new to that particular scene.
And we’d been on the road years, workin’ our asses off.
But that shit there.
[Taps arm of chair with one finger]
Yeah.
That was straight-up serendipity.
Daniel played that album for the label with the band there, and I’ll never forget their fuckin’ faces.
[Smiles broadly]
Oh no, I’ll never forget that.
The big dude, three-piece suit, sitting back in his chair behind his big desk, smoking a cigarette that was rolled in black paper, I’d never seen anything like that.
“Night Lies” finishes, he reaches out, wears a goddamn pinkie ring with a big-ass diamond in it.
Hits a button on his phone.
Then he says, “Linda,” or whatever the fuck his secretary’s name was, “get the Roadmasters on open for Bobby Sheridan and the Mustangs.”
Bobby Sheridan.
Big name back then.
We heard that, we thought we’d hit the mother lode.
[Chuckles]
Bobby, decent guy, at first.
Didn’t know what was about to hit him.
[Off tape]
There’s quite a bit of animosity between the Mustangs and the Roadmasters.
The Mustangs, yeah.
The Roadmasters, we’re above that.
[Laughs]
You outplayed them.
[Gets up, moves to the stereo cabinet, opens door. Pulls out album. Comes back. Flips album to show cover of Night Lies. Sepia. The band walking down a deserted road, their backs to the camera, McCade the closest, Josh Hardy the farthest. Flips cover, sepia of band closeup, head and shoulders, all in a line, leaning on each other one way or another, except Hardy who’s standing removed.]
That went gold, eventually went platinum and beyond.
But in the beginning, we sold twice that many posters of that cover, sister.
[Laughs loud and hard]
Preacher had a great ass.
[Returns album and resumes his seat. Sits back.]
[Quietly] But yeah, fuck yeah, we outplayed them.
[Grins]
Practice.
[Off tape]
There’s been a good deal of speculation that “Dirtbag” was about Nick Pileggi and what he did to your sister but no one in the band has confirmed or denied that.
It’s all in the name, sister.
[Stares steadily]
It’s all in the name.
[Off tape]
It’s known that Lyla comes back to the band around this time. Is that correct?
[Nods]
Chicago.
We’re on tour, opening for Bobby and the guys. Before the tour launched, they’d released “Give Then Take,” there’s a lot of push behind it, it hits the charts. Gets up to number eleven.
They follow that up with “The Back of You,” that hits seven.
And we are, [draws out] fuckin’ hell.
We are on fire.
Preacher walks onstage every night and he’s a man with a goddamned mission to make every girl cream her panties and every guy contemplate suicide because they aren’t as cool as him.
I mean, I don’t know if this was a conscious thought, but this is what he did.
I knew he could command a stage but there’s a big difference between a bar or a club and an arena, you know? You gotta have some serious shit to command that kinda space, you know?
I was right, way back when, when I saw him walk into my garage, the way that big man moved, looked, held a guitar.
I was right.
And he was right.
It is not vain to say it.
Preacher was right.
I was a rock star.
That was why he put me in the middle. He never said it, but that’s why.
Him to my left.
Tim to my right.
Lead is usually in the middle.
Preacher never moved from his spot except to come to the middle and sing with me in my mic. But that was rare.
That was also why every song he wrote was all about the bassline.
Even before I started writing with him, Preach was all about the bassline. There was nothing ever simple about a Roadmasters’ bassline. It was always complex.
He gave that to me because he knew I could do it.
He gave that to me because he knew it’d make me shine.
We had our little fiefdoms.
I don’t know how other bands did it, I’d seen a lot of acts, and I watched how they worked the stage, but I didn’t know how they did it among themselves, you know?
And I never asked because I didn’t want their thing to mess with our mojo.
Dave had his space. Tim his. Preach his. Me mine. And yeah, Josh behind Tim, he had his, he just didn’t know how to use it.
You watch footage, we interacted with eyes and smiles, nods of heads.
And we each ruled our little fiefdom.
It worked.
We weren’t running around the stage.
We weren’t each trying to reach out to every inch of the audience.
We also didn’t just stand at our mics and sing.
We engaged.
And that’s it.
What no one could put their finger on, but we knew.
Critics. Fans.
They couldn’t say what it was.
But that was it.
We didn’t need to run around, and we didn’t need to get up in each other’s space.
We were tight.
A team.
A squadron.
We did not come to you, you came to us, and you took what you got depending on where your seat was.
And it was our job, together and individually, to make you love it.
But tell me this, Tim’s doin’ one of his edgy, punk-like solos and Preacher McCade walks out from behind his mic and stands close to the edge of the stage, his side to the audience, his eyes glued to Tim, where do you look?
He’s not part of the audience.
He’s king, man.
And he doesn’t want you to look at him.
He’s also not showin’ you where to look.
He’s telling you where to look.
That’s command.
He gave that to Tim. To me. To Dave. And fuck him he says different, but watch the footage, it’ll tell you, even to Josh.
I did too. I gave that too.
We did that because it was our band.
And it was ours to give.
Right. We’re in Chicago and Bobby’s already done with us.
I mean, it’s his tour, and he starts to get boos when we only do one encore and his band comes out? And we’re doin’ fuckin’ encores as the lead-in act?
[Shakes head]
He should have worked that. He could have worked that. He could have fed off that.