The Dread Pirate Roy
The Dread Pirate Roy
We had just signed a record deal with Gemini Records of Scottsdale, Arizona and our dreams of moving up from garage band to bonafide rock stars was coming to fruition. Looking back now, we were just chasing our dream but at the time, we were deep in the moment.
Our lead singer, Roy, was everything you would imagine in a British rock star. He had a great voice with perfect pitch, mixed with the perfect combination of charm and debauchery. He was a modern day pirate. The year was 1989 and he had recently gotten hair extensions which flowed down from his black cowboy hat to damn near his ass. He wore zebra patterned pants , drove a white Rolls Royce with a custom license plate that read “BLOW ME”, and would park up on the sidewalk of the nightclub if there were no handicapped parking spaces or other prime parking available. He was cocky, privileged and outrageous. He was a character. Of course all of this came in a package that included getting totally wasted on a regular basis and boy, could Roy-boy put the bourbon away!
He was my idol and I looked up to him because he was everything I was not. I had little self confidence, Roy exuded confidence. I watched him in action one night at the club Houlighans. It was a weeknight and we had just left the recording studio and had stopped off for a drink. I should have known better. With Roy there was no such thing as ‘a drink’. After downing 3 or 4 Jim Beams, I watched as he walked up to a group of girls, planted his fist down on their table and asked them to dance. I could see them backing away at his arrogance or maybe it was the blast of alcohol hitting them in the face. I don’t know what he said but I could see them shaking their heads ‘No’. For me, that would have been it. I would have turned with my tail between my legs to regroup, but not Roy. He stood up and went right over to the next table and pitched his spiel. A minute later, he was out on the dance floor with a beautiful babe doing his incredible moves. He could do a split to the floor and come right back up in time with the music. He also had a really cool move where he went backwards to the floor and pushed himself back up with one hand. It was pretty impressive.
That night, I was able to pull him out of the club because I was the one driving. Within 5 minutes of hitting the road, Roy was sound asleep with his face against the passenger window. I pulled up in front of his apartment and tried to wake him up but there would be none of that. I fished the keys out of his jacket pocket and was working on propping him up and carrying his dead ass to the door when I heard a voice. “Need some help?” It was Roy’s next door neighbor, working on his car outside. “Sure” I said and we both took an arm and lifted Roy up. I heard his jacket rip apart at the armpits but tough shit, it was his fault, right? We drug him into the apartment and stood him up in front of his bed. He awoke just long enough to see where he was and said “Oh God, yes!” with that we let go of him. He did a face plant right into the center of the bed and was totally still. “Should we move him? Can he breathe?” I asked. “He’ll be fine” said the neighbor and we turned out the lights and walked out. The next morning, Roy was back at work with no signs of being worse for wear. How does he do it? I wondered.
Roy’s drinking could be tolerated for the most part but we had a big recording session coming up and Morgan and myself, the other 2 members of the band, were concerned. We knew that to get the best out of Roy in the recording studio, he had to have a few drinks to loosen up but there was a ‘window of opportunity’ that would pass if we didn’t get a good take, and if missed, Roy would be too wasted to continue. “Passing out is not an option!” I remember Morgan saying.
During the recording of our first album, Roy had moved back to LA . One Friday night we picked him up at the Phoenix airport and drove straight to the studio. We had a good recording session that night and afterwards decided to head to Cave Creek to a bar called ‘the Satisfied Frog’ where our friend and fellow musician, Geoff Hurley, played drums with his band ‘the Rave’. They were a damn good Beatles cover band. We all drove together in Morgan’s car. Cave Creek was pretty far from Scottsdale and this place was out in the boonies, away from any civilization. We parked the car in their dirt parking lot and found ourselves a table inside to listen to the band.
It didn’t take long before Roy was drunk and getting a bit out of hand so we decided to leave. Outside in the parking lot, Roy sensed we were upset and asked “What’s the matter?” Morgan finally let him have it. “Dammit Roy, it’s your drinking!” After a short pause, Roy replied, “No really, what is it?” With that Morgan lost it. “God dammit!” he shouted and opened the trunk of the car and threw Roy’s suitcase in the dirt. We got in the car and drove off, leaving Roy standing in the parking lot.
“Morgan, you did it!” I said as we headed down the road. “You finally did it!”. I was happy that Roy had finally been confronted but my joy was short lived. “I can’t do it” said Morgan as he turned the car around. “I can’t just leave him there like that”. I felt a bit disappointed that Morgan had changed his mind. We pulled back into the parking lot but Roy was nowhere to be seen. “Can you go in there to get him?” Morgan asked. “He’s probably in there sulking”. I walked back inside and looked around. The band was going full bore, rocking away and there was Roy, on stage, singing backup! He was having the time of his life. I think he had just invited himself on stage and with eyes closed, was singing perfect harmonies! I walked back outside to a concerned Morgan. “Well, how is he?” he asked. “You won’t believe it- he’s on stage, singing with the band” I told him. With that we left.
The following morning, we had a recording session planned for 9am. As Morgan and I arrived at the studio, there was Roy, chipper and bouncing around like nothing had happened. Geoff had informed us that Roy was the life of the party last night. He had finally passed out in the club at around 2am and toppled over a table. He was laying on the floor with candle wax dripping into his hair. Geoff and the band had to haul his ass out of there. It was amazing because there were no signs whatsoever in Roy’s appearance. He looked well groomed and put together. I just don’t know how he does it. I’d be nursing a major hangover for a full day!Our band never did find the path to stardom we were looking for, but looking back at those days, and the dread pirate Roy, I realize now we were in the presence of a living, breathing rock star! You can hear Roy’s amazing vocals on songs like “Angel”, “Jet Black Rose”, “Images” and “China Doll” and other Lost European songs here https://www.freemusicpublicdomain.com/royalty-free-alternative-music
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