A blend of This Is Spinal Tap and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, the cult classic confessions of a debauched rock 'n' roller and his adventures in excess on the '80s hair-metal nostalgia tour through Middle America-available again, and now revised and updated
Once upon a time at the start of the new century, the unheard-of Unband got a chance to drink, fight, and play loud music with '80s metal bands like Dio and Def Leppard. To the mix they brought illegal pyrotechnics, a giant red inflatable hand with movable digits, a roadie dubiously named Safety Bear, a high tolerance for liver damage, and an infectious love of rock & roll and everything it represents.
Unband bassist Michael Ruffino takes us on an epic joyride across a surrealistic American landscape where we meet mute Christian groupies, crack-smoking Girl Scouts, beer-drinking chimps, and thousands of head-bangers who cannot accept that hair metal is dead. Here, too, are uncensored portraits of Ronnie James Dio, Anthrax, Sebastian Bach, Lemmy of Motorhead, and others.
Adios, Motherfucker is gonzo rock storytelling at its finest-excessive, incendiary, intelligent, hilarious, and utterly original.
Michael Ruffino was/is the bass guitarist for noise/metal/party rock outfit The Unband. They toured relentlessly during the 1990's post-grunge period and were generally hated by everyone who heard them. The Unband didn't care, they were too busy getting wasted and engaging in the sort of behavior I thought went out with Keith Moon the glory days of Ozzy Osbourne. The amazing part is that they got a record deal with TVT that financed their shenanigans long after most bands would have called it quits or been sent to rehab.
Ruffino (he probably hates to be called "Mister") writes about the band in such an engaging and hysterical way that it never mattered to me that I would never buy any of their records. Just when you think they've hit new lows of drunken stupidity, they order another round. It is amazing to me that the author was physically and mentally able to keep a journal, especially since many passages seemed to have been written during alcoholic black-outs. If you enjoy debauched tales of rock-n-roll on the road, this is a book for you. Not quite as good as "Sick On You" which I read earlier this year, but a close second.
Reads like Bret Easton Ellis, and not just because of the drug- and booze-powered content. The author comes off as a likeable fellow even though you know he had to have done some less than lovely things in the middle of all the partying. One long train wreck of a tale, really, but you're rooting for the author all through it. If you enjoy stories that sound too crazy to have really happened but aren't technically unbelievable, you'll probably enjoy this book.
Disjointed at times but very funny account of a fledgeling band's struggles to break through in the music business. This is a must-read for anyone who lived through the late 20th Century in Boston. Not for people who need dots connected and a sense of completion. It is just as advertised, a journal recorded by a rocker while heavily inebriated pretty much the whole time.
This book is of no redeeming value, but damn it is fun to read for passages like this, "Room scene not good. TV flicker all day long, no food, nothing. I'm in the corner squeezing a relish packet into my mouth, reserving some for later."
I read tons of rock books, but this one stood out as really stellar! Many laugh out loud moments, a lot of insight, and never a dull moment. Highly recommended for anyone who likes to read about rock!