I became “the metal guy” at Elektra and in the industry. During 1986, I signed Metal Church. They were a heavy metal band originally formed in San Francisco before they relocated to Aberdeen, Washington. I bonded with the guitarist and lead writer of the band, Kurdt Vanderhoof, not only because he was a brilliant songwriter but when we learned we were both gay, we connected in an even more profound way. At that time, there weren’t many out, gay musicians, especially in the world of heavy metal.
I thought Metal Church was great. They had generated a lot of interest in Seattle and the metal community. Their first independent record was the self-titled Metal Church. They had a powerhouse vocalist named David Wayne, who was up there with Judas Priest’s Rob Halford. He was a real contender. I loved working with him. Unfortunately, he passed away from complications after a car crash.
Elektra licensed and distributed their first album, then recorded their second album, produced by Mark Dodson, called The Dark. Their third and final release for Elektra was Blessing in Disguise. It featured their new vocalist, Mike Howe. They went on to record for a few other labels, and my personal favorites were their albums The Human Factor and Generation Nothing.
In 1986, I went to see Metal Church when they opened for Metallica at the Odeon in London. I was completely drunk and someone from Kerrang magazine put me in one of those shopping carts and wheeled me to the gig. While I was there, I started head banging to Metal Church and I cracked my head open. I don’t remember anything that happened after that. The next thing you know, I woke up in Kurdt Vanderhoof‘s room and my head was stuck to the rug from all the blood that had gushed out. It was almost comical, except when I picked myself up, the scab that had developed overnight was ripped off and fresh blood spewed out all over again.
I was also interested in Flotsam & Jetsam. All of the band members then—Eric A.K., Edward Carlson, Kelly Smith, Troy Gregory—had such magnetic personalities, and Michael Gilbert, their lead guitarist, was no exception. I’ve always had affection for him and his killer stage presence. They had recorded one album in 1986, called Doomsday for the Deceiver for Metal Blade Records and I was very impressed with it. It was the only album that featured Jason Newsted. I had gone to see them at Rockers Nightclub in Phoenix, Arizona. I loved them immediately—they were part of this new breed of bands that fell under the title of “Thrash,” and that was a sound I totally related to.
At this point, I had wanted to sign them, but unfortunately everything was getting a bit chaotic. There was a definite problem. Lars had asked me about a recommendation for a new bass player for Metallica and I had suggested Jason. That meant he would be leaving Flotsam—which he eventually did. I still signed them and in late 1987, we started production on the album No Place For Disgrace, produced by the band and Bill Metoyer. It was ranked number four on Loudwire’s “Top 10 list of Thrash Albums not released by the Big Four.”1 Although my professional relationship with Flotsam was brief, I have nothing but love and respect for their hard work ethic and the quality of music they continue to create—Ugly Noise, being one of my favorites, and they raised the bar last year when they released their 2019 album, The End of Chaos.
Later in 1986, I was asked to A&R the group Dokken. Dokken was formed in 1979 and had released a few albums through Elektra, starting in 1984. The band members were Don Dokken, Mick Brown, Jeff Pilsen, and on lead guitar, George Lynch—a charming, magnetic metal-god of a guitar player. He was revered by many other musicians throughout the world. Eventually, we also recorded a few albums with George and his band, Lynch Mob.
In early 1988, we went on tour in Japan to support Dokken’s fourth album, Back for the Attack. We went to Tokyo, Nagoya, and Osaka. It was a full-on headlining tour and we ended up recording it live, with plans to release it as an album when the tour finished. We hired a Japanese Mobile Unit studio to do the work, but when the company I was referred to faxed me their contract, I was shocked to see how much they planned to charge Elektra. Not only were they being paid to do the recording work, they demanded an outrageous fee on top of that. I couldn’t believe it, so I called them and asked them to explain themselves. Without a moment’s hesitation, they said the additional cost was for “smoother communication.” They were one of the top-notch recording units in Japan, and we had to use them, but they were robbing us blind.
The live album of the tour, Beast from the East, was released in 1988 and was nominated for the Grammy Award for Best Metal Performance in 1990.2
While we were doing the gigs in Japan, we had a few really drunken nights. Once, George and I went to a very popular nightclub called The Lexington Queen. We were hootin’ and hollerin’ and drinking up a storm. The Lexington was also a place where U.S. army guys went to party.
At some point in the night, I had my eyes fixated on some army beefcake. He did not appreciate my attention, and a brawl ensued. In trying to protect me, George got our asses thrown out of the club. We laughed uncontrollably and staggered around Tokyo, drinking more and more.
George knew that I loved the British pop band Dead or Alive. Somehow—we either walked or took a taxi—and we ended up at a gay disco on the 35th floor of a huge skyscraper. We were insanely drunk at that point and went over to the DJ, who spoke a little broken English, and asked him to play “There is Something in My House” by Dead or Alive. We jumped out onto the empty dance floor and went wild. I think we were the only ones out there.
After that, it was all a blackout to me.