Album Review: Guns N’ Roses – “Chinese Democracy” (2008 Leak)

They started on the Sunset Strip alongside the Poisons, Bon Jovis, Warrants and Faster Pussycats, and they even aped the image for a while to gain notoriety, but there was something genuinely different about Guns N’ Roses’ music — it was mean, honest, tender and catchy all at once. It wasn’t all about the flashy stage shows and Mick Mars-style random guitar shredding — Slash reminded us more of Jimi Hendrix or Keith Richards with his bluesy grooves. And singer Axl Rose had something all the Bret Michaels imitators (and, for that matter, Michaels himsef) didn’t: talent. He’s often perceived as a high-pitched screecher, but if you go back and listen to those records, you’ll hear a lot more than screaming; his voice is one of the biggest factors in why GN’R sounded so different from all the other bands.

GN’R wallowed in rock n’ roll excess, but didn’t fall victim to cheesiness or tongue-in-cheek performery. Bands like Poison were the reason good bands like Nirvana caused generational shifts when they arrived at the beginning of the 1990s; hair metal and sleaze rock had become laughable caricatures of the rock n’ roll lifestyle. The self-conscious silliness and exuberance of KISS had given way to the dimwitted seriousness of Mötley Crüe in all their homoerotic leather-studded swagger. I can’t lie of course – the Crüe were good for a handful of brash stadium anthems (can you resist humming along to the chorus of Dr. Feelgood?) — but when you consider such an average band was considered one of the “best” of the mainstream hard rock scene during the mid- to-late ’80s, you know the pop culture status of that era was spiraling down the toilet.

And that is why Guns N’ Roses were, before the grunge revolution, often seen as the “saviors” of classic rock music — picking up where early Aerosmith had left off with Rocks. They made the hair metal bands look like what they were: jokes. The press loved them, and they grew larger than life practically overnight — as did the bandmembers’ egos. We all know the story of how Axl Rose alienated himself from everyone in the group until he was, by 1996, the only sole member left. It was around this time that Rose recruited a roster of new musicians to fill time in the studio — Tommy Stinson (of The Replacements) and Robin Finck (Nine Inch Nails’ touring guitarist) for example — and, over the next ten years, an additional revolving list of names, including but not limited to Buckethead, Josh Freese, Paul Tobias, and Brian “Brain” Mantias. They all came and went at ease. A ton of producers cycled through the project — including Youth and Moby — but all deserted it as Axl’s behavior became increasingly erratic. (The full story is covered superbly right here.)

Why am I covering this huge backstory? Because it’s an integral part to understanding Chinese Democracy, and honestly, we’re only scraping the surface. There’s so much more here to provide a context to the music (and its long production time) — ranging from childhood abuse that forced him into alternative therapy to “the one true love” who walked away during his commercial peak to the alienation of his former bandmates to his status as an industry in-joke. All of this has built up against Chinese Democracy – and Rose feels it, and that’s why — after, what, fourteen years now? — he still won’t buckle down and release it. There’s too much at risk for him.

Songs have been leaking in various stages of completion since 2005, but 2008 has seen the first true full-length leak — a nine-track, 48-minute playlist that includes three never-before-heard songs (If the World, Prostitute and Rhiad and the Bedouins).

Axl was probably hitting the “Refresh” button frantically while browsing Internet fan forums on the day of the leak, but honestly? He has nothing to worry about — the most startling thing about this version of Chinese Democracy, regardless of how “finished” it may be, is just how well it works.

I assembled my own playlist (since the tracks leaked in random order), and I’ll review the album in this order. Before reading this review, though, you should probably know the answer to one single question — the question that still, to this day, splits fans down the middle; the question that sparks controversy more than any other in modern music: Do I think this band is still Guns N’ Roses, with only Rose left at the helm?

In short, no — I don’t. I have always been a fan of Guns N’ Roses, and I find it hard to view an ever-changing line-up of fill-in musicians to be “the” Guns N’ Roses. It simply isn’t the same band — maybe in a legal sense, but then again, we live in a day and age when people can sue McDonald’s for making their coffee too hot, so even the law isn’t very logical anymore.

The reason I’m not afraid of praising this album, and the reason I am willing to ignore my issues with Rose’s behavior, is for one simple reason: despite the absence of former bandmembers, it is still Axl Rose behind this project, who — I feel — is vastly talented in spite of his flaws (both personally and musically) and who has the potential not to “change rock music forever” with this album (as some fools have come to expect) but, simply, to deliver a solid record. Am I sad that Slash is gone? Of course. But it’s not the huge hindrance for me that it seems to be for some fans. I’ve just come to accept it and realize nobody’s perfect, and just because Slash isn’t here doesn’t mean the music will automatically be complete rubbish — and vice versa. I mean, have you heard the Snakepit albums? Nobody’s perfect.

Anyway, onto the review… isn’t this exciting?

1. Chinese Democracy

This title track was first leaked (in studio form) in early 2007, and this version is roughly the same. It still rocks. It opens with about a minute of eerie Asian voices mumbling over top of a building instrumental, until finally Robin Finck’s guitar riff thrases into the forefront, accumulating momentum until Axl’s voice growls its way to the front of the music.

At first listen, you can hear the era of this song — it was probably written back when Limp Bizkit was whoring “Rollin’” on every frickin’ channel — but if this had been released around the turn of the millenium, it would have wiped the floor with those shitty nu metal bands. It’s angry, straightforward and brash in a uniquely GN’R way — it’s the first indication that, although this sounds almost nothing like the GN’R of yesteryear, it’s still GN’R in spirit. Nasty, bitter, acerbic spirit.

2. I.R.S.

This doesn’t typically receive much praise from fans, and perhaps deservedly so. The chorus is its weakness, mainly because it involves Axl whining about getting the I.R.S. and the F.B.I. over and over again to right some emotional wrongdoings. That damn Stephanie Seymour done him wrong and he’ll get her back with a little help from his friends! There’s some irony in the fact that Rose is yelping about calling the F.B.I. since the person who leaked the album in 2008 was visited by two F.B.I. agents after being threatened with a cease and desist by GN’R management.

In spite of its disappointingly lame chorus, the song’s verses make up for the other weaknesses and structurally it has a good flow; the verses feel right, even if the words don’t sound right. And Axl sounds gritty and pissed off; this is like a new-age You Could Be Mine, with Axl doing some Robert Plant until Buckethead tears it up for the highlight solo. And the 2006/2007 addition of a Robin Finck solo towards the front of the song makes it a whole lot better — before, in its original form, the abrupt shift into the second half of the song felt awkward; now it clicks. Not a great song, but a good hard rocker and certainly infectious if a bit silly.

3. The Blues

I’m hugely disappointed with the production on this track — mainly because the older version I heard played in 2002 was so much better. Back then it sounded unique and memorable, like one of Radiohead’s anthemic Bends-era rockers with the Use Your Illusion balladry. Now it just sounds gooey and schlocky, like a Bon Jovi song, and Axl’s vocals sound way too polished. It’s still a good, solid track — a nice, simple ballad without the overblown theatrics of Estranged – but it had potential to be so much more, and at one point, it really was. I’ll always have a soft spot for the 2002 version of this song, with its surging guitar intro and faster pace. However, I must say the outro of the song still kicks ass and it’s hard not to be impressed by those high notes towards the finale.

4. Better

This is the track all the fans eat up, and it does have potential to be a big single if it’s ever released (it was slated for a Harley Davidson promo campaign in ’06 and got pulled at the last minute). It has a nice, crunchy riff courtesy of Robin Finck, but it also has a simple and straightforward element that, I think, could just as easily appeal to older fans as well as younger ones. I just have a few quibbles — the rhyme schemes sound forced, and the awkward post-solo sound effects? Those really, really have to go. Chris Pitman’s toilet-flushing sound effects are a bit much. Other than that, it’s pretty damn impressive. And crunchy. I just love saying that.

5. If the World

“If the world would end today / All the dreams we had would all just drift away.”

Uh, no shit?

But really, it’s a testament to this song’s strengths that its melody causes us to ignore – or, in my case, hardly even notice – the rather obvious lyrics. It’s nothing really special from a lyrical standpoint – but the flamenco guitar, high-pitched vocals, ’70s porn film groove (no, seriously) and crunchy (there I go again!) chorus is really damn infectious. This is like Portishead, Mike Patton and Nine Inch Nails thrown in a blender. And it works. And Buckethead’s solo? Awesome, as usual. It builds up softly, then it’s “ready to crash and buuurrrnnn.” (Sorry, couldn’t resist.)

6. Rhiad and the Bedouins

This is another Robert Plant track. Not literally, but in terms of influence – you can hear it in the vocals. It’s got a lot of Praxis going on, and a lot of Buckethead’s prog-rock sensibilities are at the forefront here. Anyone who tries to deny Buckethead’s influence or involvement in this album needs to take a good listen to this track. The lyrics are mostly unintelligible but with a song this fast and mean, you don’t really need to make them out. You can hear the pain of the lyrics in the vocals alone – Axl sounds really pissed off, and nobody can write a pissed-off anthem better than Axl Rose (well, okay, I’m ignoring Get in the Ring).

7. Prostitute

Some fans were expecting Prostitute – often hailed in the past as one of the “masterpieces” of the album by those who had heard it prior to the ’08 leak — to be a harder rocker, because it was described as one of Axl’s “heaviest” songs by those in the know. In light of such comments, many fans deny the song’s title (since it was leaked without ID tags) and claim it’s called “Message for You” or “Untitled Song #2″ (real catchy). Those fans are what we would typically refer to as “idiots” — metalheads who infer the “heavy” description as being indicative of the song’s actual arrangement rather than lyrical or emotional content.

For the record, it’s “heavy” because it sounds earnest and open — another ballad without the pretentious qualities and gloss of the Use Your Illusion records. Is it excessive? Overblown? Of course. It sounds like Axl may have written it after watching a Michael Bay film, since you can imagine it perfectly placed on a soundtrack for, say, “Armageddon” or “Transformers” alongside those Aerosmith and Smashing Pumpkins tracks. The difference is, this one would have been the “good” Michael Bay song, which — I know — almost seems like a contradiction.

The cool thing about this song, for me, is its combination of melody and hard rock — it starts out as a peaceful, calming piano ballad before shifting suddenly into an apocalyptic mess. And, unlike Aerosmith’s forced attempts at balladry, the lyrics here actually sound fairly honest — and burnt. “Ask yourself / What I would do / to prostitute myself / To live with fortune and shame / But you should have turned to the hearts of the ones / That you would not save / I told you when I found you / All that amounts to is love that you paid for / for fortune and fame.” Someone’s feeling a bit of regret, no? And, yeah, I have to say, I dig the way the exhausting outro gives way to the soft instrumentals on its way out — a kind of surging, waves-crashing-on-the-beach repetition that makes me think Moby may have helped out a bit on this one.

8. Madagascar

Imagine Tom Waits doing a hip-hop track with a “quote metal” solo (famous soundclips played over top of surging guitars). Sound interesting? Probably not. But this is still an interesting track. Speaking of the vocals, they sound a bit over-processed — they’ve definitely been run through some studio programs — but, hey, it works regardless. The high notes are pretty impressive, and the low growls are unlike anything Axl’s done before. His combination of grit and pitch has never been more in effect than on Chinese Democracy, and although that may be in part due to his declining vocal abilities (at least in comparison to how he sung in the past), he’s found a way to channel them effectively into these new songs; it’s a new style of singing for him, a bit more whiny at times and more grizzly at others, but it works. The quote solo towards the middle is a bit much at first, and you start rolling your eyes when you hear Michael J. Fox yelling about social consciousness (it’s a snippet from Casualties of War), but by the end you actually do find yourself feeling the effect of this mess. It’s like in movie trailers when they start playing those big, grand, rapidly accelerating music cues — you feel like it’s such a cliche at first, but by the end when the music suddenly stops and the clips come to an orgasmic halt, you have to admit it kinda looks cool. This is movie trailer music: there, I said it.

9. There Was a Time

This, in all honesty, may be my favourite song off the album so far — even though its first two and a half minutes or so are a complete mess of hip-hoppery and rock. It’s like Dr. Dre with a whiny white boy moaning about his lost love and “cocaine in the halls” (hey, it rhymed at the time) — it’s another industrial ballad.

But then Axl’s vocals cut into Robin Finck’s bluesy solo (Finck’s best solo yet heard on this record), which in turns begin building into Buckethead’s totally amazing three-minute-or-so shred solo. And the key here is that, in spite of its shreddery, it’s not “just” shredding — as Ron “Bumblefoot” Thal proved when he played this song live in 2006, if you play the song too literally — note by note — it loses all emotion. Ron’s performance lacked the emotional bite of Buckethead, who is really feeling the music here and translating it through his instrument — the same way all those blues greats did, and like Richards and Hendrix did, and yes, the same way — I’ll say it — Slash did. This is the defining sound of Buckethead’s career and it’s a damn shame he won’t be in the band when this is finally released to enjoy the acclaim he’s likely to generate for what may very well be one of the most impressive guitar solos I’ve ever heard — and I do mean ever. It’s enough to transform a barely-above-average two-and-a-half-minute song into a seven-minute masterpiece. It’s the perfect album closer and one of the best songs Guns N’ Roses, or just Axl Rose, has ever gotten anywhere near.

Final Thoughts: Is this a good album? Should it be released right now, or should Axl go back to the studio and spend another $15 million to write more songs about how badly Stephanie Seymour burned him back in the ’90s? The bottom line is that it’s a flawed album, but that’s part of the reason it works. Axl seems to believe these songs need to be “perfect” — presumably part of the reason, these days, for the long wait — when in fact their flaws only help highlight the history and sprawling ambitions of this record. After all these years, what started as a seemingly straightforward project has almost become a concept album about one troubled man’s excesses, vices, obsessions and compulsions. Chinese Democracy in its current form is not by any means a “perfect” album, but the very idea of a perfect album actually existing out there is unappealing to me. The albums I love — the albums that remind me of a certain time or place, or speak to me in a certain way — are often the messy ones. Exile On Main Street? The White Album? Daydream Nation? Raw Power? The Replacements’ Let It Be? They’re flawed, they’re inconsistent, they’re raw. And they all work beautifully because of this, not in spite of it. And, as it is right now, apart from a few over-produced tracks (The Blues, Prostitute), Axl Rose may not have a perfect album on his hands, but rather, a perfectly flawed album. It’s self-indulgent, messy, cluttered with too many ideas (sometimes all in the same song), and yet — almost in spite of itself — it works. And he should release it soon, without shifting the arrangements anymore, because it may be the key to his overcoming the very issues that plagued him during the recording, as well as possibly being the first stepping stone towards the “real” Guns N’ Roses reuniting.

And it also needs to be heard because in Axl’s quest to exorcise all his inner demons through this music, he is only giving them more room to grow and suppress his work by keeping the tracks buried. And finally, Chinese Democracy needs to be heard for the experience and the feelings it generates, and not just because it’s damn good rock music — which, by the way, it is anyway.

Rating: 4.5/5

• Nobody here at Addictive Thoughts (all one of us) would encourage illegal downloading. In no way, shape or form is this review to be considered an endorsement of illegal file sharing. It is merely a review of the material as it exists. If you wish to hear the tracks from Chinese Democracy, they are all available on YouTube and many other sites, but please don’t post requests here.

Tagged as: album leaks