Much like many of his peers, legendary Anthrax guitarist Scott Ian wrote a book recently. Co-written by Jon Weiderhorn, I’m the Man: The Story of That Guy From Anthrax, will be released October 14. Radio.com got their hands on a long passage from the book where Ian describes his friends in Metallica and recounts his version of the story of Dave Mustaine being kicked out of the band. Here are some excerpts:
Scott describes his friends in Metallica:
James Hetfield was actually the wallflower. He was quiet like [Anthrax drummer] Charlie [Benante] with a good sense of humor and hadn’t developed his rock star persona yet. He looked awkward around people, but when he was holding his guitar and screaming into the mike he was right at home. That was where he belonged, even though he never said anything onstage. That was all Dave.
Mustaine was the real front man of the band. He did all the talking onstage and he had that rock star personality. He was also an out-of-control, mean drunk, but he had a sharp sense of humor. Lars could be funny, too, and he could talk a ton of s–t. He actually couldn’t really play when they started. He learned by jamming along with James’s songs and just got better as they went. It would be hard to imagine Lars in any other band, but he’s the right drummer for Metallica. He was also the voice of the band from day one.
If I were to single any of them out as someone who looked like he didn’t belong, it would be Cliff. Anthrax and Metallica had a certain look: tight jeans, high-top Nike or Converse sneakers, metal T-shirt, leather jacket, or denim over leather. And then there was Cliff in his bell bottoms, cowboy boots, R.E.M. T-shirt, and jean jacket decorated with Lynyrd Skynyrd and Misfits pins.
On Dave Mustaine's drunken pranks:
[W]hen [Dave Mustaine] was really drunk, he could be a total a–hole. Late at night he would dump piles of trash in front of other bands’ rehearsal room doors, so when they’d show up the next day their whole front door would be covered with a mountain of garbage. And they’d know which band did it because Metallica were the only ones sleeping there. So all these musicians would knock on Metallica’s door, wanting to beat them up.
The day Mustaine got kicked out:
I was with them on April 9, 1983, when they were playing L’Amour with Vandenberg and the Rods. Vandenberg were onstage in the middle of the afternoon sound checking, and Mustaine was already hammered. He was in the middle of the floor of the venue, and as soon as they ended a song he started screaming at them that they sucked and they should get the f–k off the stage. [Anthrax/Metallica manager] Jonny Z pulled him away. But I didn’t think any of that s–t was enough to get him kicked out of the band. The guy is arguably the godfather of thrash metal. He wrote a lot of the riffs on Kill ’Em All and even some of Ride the Lightning. Without Dave Mustaine, maybe thrash metal never would have happened. At least in the beginning, he was the driving force, artistically.
A day or two later, I woke up, drove to the Music Building saw Cliff standing outside having a smoke. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. What’s going on?” I answered, figuring it was just another day.
“Not much. We fired Dave. He’s on a Greyhound back to San Francisco.”
I laughed because Cliff was always being sarcastic and busting balls.”Yeah, that’s funny,” I said. “Look, I have to go work with my amp. I’m not real happy with the tone. I’ll see you upstairs.”
“I’m totally serious,” he said. “Go upstairs to the room right now and talk to James and Lars.”
I went upstairs, looked around, and didn’t see Dave anywhere. “What’s going on?”
“Didn’t Cliff tell you?” James said.
“Yeah, but he’s lying, right?”
“No, we fired Dave this morning,”
I still figured that was impossible and they were playing a trick on me. “You’re f–king serious?”
“We’re totally serious,” said Lars.
I said, “Holy s–t. You have gigs coming up and you’re making an album next month. Does Johnny Z know?”
“Yeah, we told him a couple days ago,” Lars continued. “We made him promise not to say anything. We didn’t want Dave to find out. We didn’t know what he would do.”They had the whole operation planned out with the precision of a military air strike. It turned out that L’Amour show with the Rods was Dave’s final straw. They purchased a one-way bus ticket back to LA and waited for a night when Dave got really drunk, which they knew wouldn’t be long. There was a Greyhound station almost next door to the Music Building, they woke him up while he was still mostly incoherent and fired him. He had passed out in his clothes, so they didn’t have to help him get dressed. They just collected his stuff, which they had mostly packed in a bag already, and literally put him on the bus before he understood what was happening. Then they made plans to send him his gear.
I was standing there with my jaw open, speechless, and Cliff walked back in. “See, I told you,” he said.
This is pretty in line with the story we've heard from others involved, including our now infamous and hilarious reading of this occasion from Dave Mustaine's autobiography:
Read the entire Scott Ian book excerpt over at Radio.com. You can pre-order his book, I’m the Man: The Story of That Guy From Anthrax on Amazon.com for as low as $12.
