during “Paradise City,” their final song of the evening, when a stone hit drummer Matt Sorum.
That was the last straw. Axl and the band walked offstage halfway through the song.
I think his parting words that night, were, “Good night, and f*** you, assholes.”
The second show in São Paulo was postponed, due to heavy rains. However, Guns N’ Roses played the next night with the 120,000 fans in attendance standing in the mud. It was a mess.
Next was the final show of this South American leg in beautiful Rio de Janeiro.
Ah, a nice show. No stress.
Skip ahead to seven months later. The twenty-eight-month tour was almost over. We had just finished the European Skin N’ Bones tour, which had us all over Europe for more than two months. We were all tired, and we were all ready to come home.
The last two shows were actually added, as a way for the band to make one last chunk of change before shutting down for a while.
Back to Buenos Aires. Last time we were there nothing strange happened. Just did the two shows and left. But obviously they were gearing up for this one, because this was, by far, the most scared I had ever been on tour with Guns N’ Roses.
Before the first of the two shows, we all hung out in our hotel rooms, slowly getting ready. About 70,000 fans were already in the stadium, anticipating the band’s arrival. Axl was with Steve, getting his daily adjustment.
At approximately 5 p.m., a group of about fifty police officers from the city’s narcotics division descended on the hotel. They were looking for a large amount of cocaine, which had allegedly been stashed in one of the band member’s rooms.
They forced their way onto our secure floor and were met by our security team and Doug.
I heard on my walkie-talkie that something was going down, and it didn’t sound good. I came out of my hotel room, and there, by the elevators, were a ton of armed policemen talking to Doug and a few others.
I took position in front of Axl’s door. At that point he had no idea what was going on. He was eating dinner inside his room, while Steve was taping his ankles for the show.
The chief of police was demanding to see Axl’s room. But none of us were telling him which room was Axl’s. That was until the guns came out.
Now we were singing like birds. Not really, but this was not funny anymore, this was very serious. Real-life serious.
But before they went in any of the rooms, Doug did something very smart. He negotiated with them that we have an American representative go in the rooms with their team of policemen while the rooms were searched. We were all afraid of drugs being planted in our rooms.
I was prepared. While we waited for the American representative, I ran back into my room and called my mom and dad. From the hotel phone, which cost a small fortune. But I didn’t care—I seriously thought my freedom was on the line.
I knew that they would freak out, but it was better than the alternative—having to fly to South America to visit me in prison. I told them what was happening, and that if they didn’t hear back from me within the next two hours, I was probably being taken to jail somewhere in Buenos Aires.
I’m a parent now, and I pray I never get that call from any of my kids. My parents were freaking out, but I told them to calm down, and for them to call the police in New York, and the New York press if I didn’t call them back in two hours.
I hung up the phone and went back in the hallway.
Eventually the American representative showed up, and the chief of police and his posse started searching the rooms.
Of course, they wanted to start with Axl’s room. And because we now had an American representative, we showed them which room was Axl’s.
At the same time, down the hall they were searching Robert’s room, and they found some of Axl’s bath salts in one of his suitcases. Yes, the same bath salts that almost got Robert in trouble in Tel Aviv.
Robert, standing in the hallway
That was the last straw. Axl and the band walked offstage halfway through the song.
I think his parting words that night, were, “Good night, and f*** you, assholes.”
The second show in São Paulo was postponed, due to heavy rains. However, Guns N’ Roses played the next night with the 120,000 fans in attendance standing in the mud. It was a mess.
Next was the final show of this South American leg in beautiful Rio de Janeiro.
Ah, a nice show. No stress.
Skip ahead to seven months later. The twenty-eight-month tour was almost over. We had just finished the European Skin N’ Bones tour, which had us all over Europe for more than two months. We were all tired, and we were all ready to come home.
The last two shows were actually added, as a way for the band to make one last chunk of change before shutting down for a while.
Back to Buenos Aires. Last time we were there nothing strange happened. Just did the two shows and left. But obviously they were gearing up for this one, because this was, by far, the most scared I had ever been on tour with Guns N’ Roses.
Before the first of the two shows, we all hung out in our hotel rooms, slowly getting ready. About 70,000 fans were already in the stadium, anticipating the band’s arrival. Axl was with Steve, getting his daily adjustment.
At approximately 5 p.m., a group of about fifty police officers from the city’s narcotics division descended on the hotel. They were looking for a large amount of cocaine, which had allegedly been stashed in one of the band member’s rooms.
They forced their way onto our secure floor and were met by our security team and Doug.
I heard on my walkie-talkie that something was going down, and it didn’t sound good. I came out of my hotel room, and there, by the elevators, were a ton of armed policemen talking to Doug and a few others.
I took position in front of Axl’s door. At that point he had no idea what was going on. He was eating dinner inside his room, while Steve was taping his ankles for the show.
The chief of police was demanding to see Axl’s room. But none of us were telling him which room was Axl’s. That was until the guns came out.
Now we were singing like birds. Not really, but this was not funny anymore, this was very serious. Real-life serious.
But before they went in any of the rooms, Doug did something very smart. He negotiated with them that we have an American representative go in the rooms with their team of policemen while the rooms were searched. We were all afraid of drugs being planted in our rooms.
I was prepared. While we waited for the American representative, I ran back into my room and called my mom and dad. From the hotel phone, which cost a small fortune. But I didn’t care—I seriously thought my freedom was on the line.
I knew that they would freak out, but it was better than the alternative—having to fly to South America to visit me in prison. I told them what was happening, and that if they didn’t hear back from me within the next two hours, I was probably being taken to jail somewhere in Buenos Aires.
I’m a parent now, and I pray I never get that call from any of my kids. My parents were freaking out, but I told them to calm down, and for them to call the police in New York, and the New York press if I didn’t call them back in two hours.
I hung up the phone and went back in the hallway.
Eventually the American representative showed up, and the chief of police and his posse started searching the rooms.
Of course, they wanted to start with Axl’s room. And because we now had an American representative, we showed them which room was Axl’s.
At the same time, down the hall they were searching Robert’s room, and they found some of Axl’s bath salts in one of his suitcases. Yes, the same bath salts that almost got Robert in trouble in Tel Aviv.
Robert, standing in the hallway
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