Shut Up and Give Me the Mic (41 page)

Suzette’s concept for Twisted Sister’s next costumes was to take the tattered look to a whole new level. As huge fans of
Mad Max
and
The Road Warrior
(aka
Mad Max 2
) movies, Suzette saw an opportunity to introduce elements of postapocalyptic style into the outfits. Wait’ll they get a load of me!

THE DEMO PROCESS FOR
the next album was identical to all previous ones. The songs I’d been working on during the recording of
You Can’t Stop Rock ’n’ Roll
, along with two songs Eddie and I wrote
(yes, Eddie had finally written some guitar riffs for me to work on) and a couple of fan favorites from the club days (“Rock ’n’ Roll Saviors” and “You Know I Cry”), were rehearsed in their most basic form (intro-verse-chorus-verse-chorus), then recorded as demos. The versions of the songs were truncated because we always had so many more than we needed—only ten to twelve would be chosen for the album. We didn’t want to waste time fully arranging all of them.

Once a demo was finished, we would give the tape to all the interested parties (band, crew, management, record label, and our producer), then vote for our favorite tracks. The ones with the most votes would be the songs for the record.

As a songwriter I was hitting my stride. I knew some
really
strong songs were on the new demo. Particularly, “We’re Not Gonna Take It” and “I Wanna Rock.”

“I Wanna Rock” was inspired by the galloping rhythm of many Iron Maiden songs. I thought if I could combine the metallic drive of a Maiden song with the anthemic feel of many of my songs, I would have a winner.

One note: When I originally wrote the song, I envisioned the “gang (chant) vocals” being sung
on
the word
rock
, as in “I wanna
rock
!” When we were working up the songs for the demo, I was explaining it to Eddie Ojeda.

“Oh, you mean like ’I wanna rock!
Rock!
’?” Eddie asked.

That was a much better idea! “Yeah,” I replied, taking full credit, “like that.”
Thanks, Eddie.

I’d been sitting on the chorus for “We’re Not Gonna Take It” since 1979. I knew the hook was a killer, but try as I would, I could not come up with a suitable verse and B-verse (the second, different part of a verse). I’m a
huge
fan of the English band Slade (as are many other prominent hard-rock and metal bands) and their incredible rock anthems. Most of you will know them best for the Quiet Riot smash hit “Cum On Feel the Noize” and follow-up, “Mama Weer All Crazee Now.” No, Quiet Riot didn’t write those songs,
Slade did.

Slade songs are usually uniquely comprised of a hook (catchy repeated melody and lyric) for the verse, a hook for the B-verse, and a hook for . . .
the hook.
Jim Lea and Noddy Holder are amazing
songwriters! “We’re Not Gonna Take It” is a full-on Slade-inspired romp.
All of my anthems are.
Thank you, Noddy and Jim, for the inspiration and songwriting lessons. I couldn’t have done it with -out you.

Credit for the crowning touch on the song has to go to my drummer, A. J. Pero. I had the idea of starting the song with a drum cadence, like in a marching band. When I asked A.J. to come up with something, he created a hell of an identifiable beat! The minute people hear those drums, they know what song it is.
More cowbell!

Many years after I’d written the chorus to “We’re Not Gonna Take It,” I was riding in a van on tour with my band Widowmaker (more on them later). My guitarist Al Pitrelli was driving, and we were discussing song plagiarism. Over the years, many songs have been ripped off both unintentionally . . . and intentionally. We were running through different songs that had been “appropriated” (i.e. George Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord,” taken from the Chiffons’ “He’s So Fine,” and Bon Jovi’s “Who Says You Can’t Go Home,” borrowed from Sam Cooke’s “Cupid [Draw Back Your Bow]”) when Al says, “And, of course, ‘We’re Not Gonna Take It’ is ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful.’ ”

“What?”

“You didn’t know ‘We’re Not Gonna Take It’ is ’O Come, All Ye Faithful’?” asked Al.

As I sat there dumbfounded, Al sang,
“O come, all ye faithful—We’re not gonna take it.”

Holy shit! I sang in the church choir until I was nineteen years old. I must have sung “O Come, All Ye Faithful” hundreds of times. Somehow the first six notes of it infiltrated my psyche and were transformed into “We’re Not Gonna Take It!”
Thank you, God!

Elton John once said that his biggest hits were based on the chord patterns of church hymns. He says the comfort and familiarity in them connects with the listener. I guess he’s right.

ONE MORNING DURING THE
demo process, I was having coffee in the dining room of our home and listening to the basic tracks of the new
songs, without vocals. Vocals were always the last thing added, and I was studying the tracks in anticipation of recording.

The minute I pressed
PLAY
on the portable cassette player, baby Jesse Blaze came running in, wearing only a diaper, planted himself in front of the boom box, and started headbanging incessantly for the entire tape! I’d never seen anything like it. The kid was glued to the music and would not stop until it was over.
He loved it
. I took that as a good omen.

FROM THE MINUTE TOM
Werman arrived on the scene, things began to degrade with the band. The majority of us had accepted the reality of a world filled with shades of gray, but Mark Mendoza was still very much living in an unrealistic world of black and white. He refused to accept that any compromise needed to be made, under any circumstances, and the fact that he was being outvoted on the issue of production—something he’d always been actively involved in—set him on a path of constant passive-aggressive resistance. Oh, but it was okay for me to tour with Krapus for the greater good, right?

We sent Tom Werman a demo tape of close to twenty songs of new material. These were the songs that would become our multi-platinum
Stay Hungry
album. “We’re Not Gonna Take It,” “I Wanna Rock,” “The Price,” “Burn in Hell,” and every other track on that album were on the demo tape we sent Tom Werman, in a totally recognizable form.
¹
We were excited to have him hear our new stuff.

The first day of preproduction, Tom Werman handed me a tape, saying, “Here are some songs I think you should consider covering.”

Slightly taken aback, I asked if he had listened to our new-songs demo.

“Yeah, it’s good,” he said dismissively, “but I think you should listen to these songs.”

Not wanting to be accused of being closed to Werman’s ideas—
especially the very first day of preproduction—I took a look at the tape. Listed on it were three songs by the heavy metal band Saxon. I was totally confused. “These are Saxon songs.”

“I know,” replied Werman. “They’re great songs.”

“They
are
great songs. We’ve toured with Saxon. They’re a great band.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“
We tour with them!
We can’t be playing Saxon songs when Saxon are playing them at the same show!”

“That’s just in Europe,” Tom countered. “Nobody knows them over here.”

“We tour in Europe and our fans know them! It would make our band a joke.
We can’t record songs by Saxon!
” I was dumbfounded by the man’s inability to grasp the situation.

Werman gave me a dismissive shrug (he was dismissive a lot) and said, “All right, I’ll give ’em to some other band to have hits with.”

Journal entry:
Day 1 of preproduction with Tom Werman.

Things are not going quite as well as we had hoped.

The next hurdle was getting Werman to put the right songs on the record. He was adamant about including “Don’t Let Me Down” (“‘Don’t Let Me Down’ is
a hit
,” insisted Tom) and the two songs on the tape that I had decided not to use for this record, “Captain Howdy” and “Street Justice” (these were meant to be a part of a “rock opera” I was developing). Those three songs are the only songs from the
Stay Hungry
record
we never played live
(until recently). They are the
least popular
songs from that album.

On the list of songs Tom Werman did
not
want on the record? “We’re Not Gonna Take It,” “I Wanna Rock,” and “The Price”—
our three biggest songs!

Using our traditional voting process to pick the songs from our demos, these three songs were the top picks by everyone else who voted. Still, Tom didn’t want them. Werman insisted “The Price” was a typical ballad; “I Wanna Rock” was just a “Molly Hatchet thing”; “I’ve done that already.
Dump-dada-dump-dada-dah
”; and “We’re Not Gonna Take It” was too singsongy—
“Nah-nah-nana-nah-nah,”
he sang mockingly. This A&R man turned producer, who said he
wouldn’t
have signed our band and
didn’t
want the songs that would become our biggest hits on the record, was in charge of steering Twisted Sister’s ship and was getting five figures and four points on the record to do it?!
What the fuck!?

At one point I literally got down on one knee next to Werman’s chair and pleaded with him to put those three songs on the record. I promised him they would be more impressive when they were finished. Finally he caved.

“Oh, all right,” Tom said indifferently. “If you
really
have to have them.”

“Thanks, Tom,” I replied, fighting the urge to blow this condescending, arrogant piece of shit right out of his seat. As I struggled with that feeling, the first of what would become ongoing stomach pains dug into me. I knew then that recording our album with this man was going to be a constant battle and it was up to me to fight.

Mark Mendoza, the band member who usually handled the studio duties and was the bellwether of Twisted Sister’s sound, had washed his hands of the situation. He didn’t agree with our using Tom Werman (who did?) and spent little time in the studio with the man. So, instead of my working on material for our next record during recording (as I always did), I was forced to stay in the studio most of the time and make sure Tom Werman didn’t completely screw things up.

If Mark had continued to handle the production, I would have written a very different follow-up record to
Stay Hungry
. It would have been written when the band was still struggling, a much better place for great metal to be written than from a plateau of comfort and success. I truly believe the band’s entire career arc would have been different, and way more in line with how it should have been. Shoulda-woulda-coulda.

The rehearsals themselves went exactly according to Tom Werman’s prime directive: “I don’t create anything, I just tell you whether I like it or not.” Song after song, we’d play something, ask Tom what he thought, and nine times out of ten he would say “Fine.” On occasion he would say “I don’t like that.” The band would come up with
an alternative way of playing it, and Werman would say “Fine.” You gotta love that creative process!

THE FIRST DAY OF
recording basic tracks, at the Record Plant in New York City, we met Werman’s secret weapon. Geoff Workman, Tom’s engineer, was the guy who
did
push the buttons and get the sounds. Anything good about the sound of our
Stay Hungry
record is thanks to Geoff Workman.

Geoff had been legendary producer Roy Thomas Baker’s engineer on all of the first five Queen albums, the first four Cars records, and two Journey albums. Geoff then went on to coproduce, with Journey, Journey’s multiplatinum
Departure
record. The guy had mega-experience and chops.

For me, Geoff Workman was the only bright spot in the entire recording process. He was patient, tireless, and a funny SOB. I remember, the first few days of recording, Geoff labeled everything in the studio that was his.
GEOFF’S PEN, GEOFF’S TAPE, GEOFF’S ASHTRAY, GEOFF’S COFFEE MUG
. At one point, Geoff hung a sign from the ceiling, suspended over his chair (also labeled), that read
GEOFF’S AIR.
Funny shit.

Geoff chain-smoked Gitanes cigarettes, drank a magnum of Johnnie Walker Black on ice a day, and pretty constantly—discreetly—snorted cocaine, but I didn’t care. The guy was always even tempered and not a “shape-shifter” (someone whose personality changes when he or she gets high). If only the same thing could be said for Tom Werman.

AS SOON AS BASS
and drum tracks were laid down in New York, the band headed to the West Coast to finish tracking the record (guitars and vocals), record overdubs, and mix. Tom Werman’s choice was Cherokee Studios, so that’s where we set up shop.