Armagideon 2 - The Late Show: Guns N' Roses' "Chinese Democracy"

I've spent unhealthy amount of time over the past four or five years following the grotesque saga of Guns N' Roses, its elusive frontman (you know his fucking name) and the ridiculously long-aborning "Chinese Democracy," which finally hit stores to amazingly little fanfare last month. For a week or so I entertained the thought of trying to get my hands on a promo copy so I could review it in advance, but there were many more important matters to tend to and I'm not in college anymore. Besides, the band actually took the step of streaming the whole blasted thing on MySpace in the days leading up to the release, and if I were a good blogger I'd have simply checked out the stream and dashed out a review as fast as possible. But I'm not a good blogger (yet), I tend to procrastinate and so my review appears about a month after anybody who gave two shits made up their mind. Doesn't matter, really, because the last time this record would have mattered in any broader sense is long past.



It's amazing that the most expensive, most tortuously anticipated album in rock history is but a blip on the cultural radar upon its release in 2008. Bloggers and critics and fanboys and the remains of Axl's cultish legions were atwitter at the prospect of "Chinese Democracy"'s actual release, while everyone else had more important things to worry about, like the economy and the new president and Lil Wayne's sizzurp problem. Certainly Axl didn't help his own cause, staging a press blackout that would've looked like business as usual if his 17-years-in-the-making opus weren't actually, really upon us this time. Best Buy, the album's sole U.S. retailer, did what they could to promote the damn thing; without so much as a music video to excerpt, they were reduced to panning across snapshots of album artwork in T.V. ads for their prize product. Even for someone as notoriously erratic as Axl, the almost complete lack of publicity on his or the band's part was bizarre.



Then a funny thing happened a couple weeks ago: Axl showed up to chat and answer questions on several fan forums, promising a rerelease of "Chinese Democracy" with new artwork and even a video for the song "Better" (Like the album itself - we'll believe it when we see it). Asked to explain his silence upon the album's release, Axl went into his usual spiel, making vague references to various lawsuits, perpetual villain Slash, those liars in the press, "my attorneys", that two-timing sonofabitch Slash, "my lawyers", fellow recluse J.D. Salinger and that backstabbing asshole Slash. OK, dude, tell us what you really think about your old bandmates. But for fuck's sake, get back on MTV or pick a fight with Ralph Lauren or make a $4 million dollar video with Francis Ford Coppola directing like Old Axl. If nothing else, I guarantee you that Kurt Loder will shit his pants.



So what about the album? Well, "Chinese Democracy" is of course one of those records that you can review without actually hearing it, at least if you're an ideologue of a certain stripe. For indie-rock partisans and overly sincere progressives, it's bombs away. Really, I don't blame them, as almost every review of the album has made the following righteous points:

1) Taking 17 years and $15 million to make an album is disgusting.

2) You can't fake the kind of chemistry and raw firepower that makes for great rock n' roll, no matter how hard you try; professionalism and obsessive craftsmanship is no substitute for youthful enthusiasm. Essentially, "Chinese Democracy" is not and never could be the gauntlet that was "Appetite For Destruction".

3) "Chinese Democracy" is so self-referential, so insular, so far removed from the here-and-now, from anything else that's happening in music or the world right now that it's only relevant within the context of GN'R and Axl Rose's personal history. Absent of any real meaning or significance beyond itself, can a work of art be truly great or even good? Why should any normal person care?



Point taken. To be fair, "Chinese Democracy" is not a great work of art. But it comes closer than I would have expected. The explosive interactions of the old group are nowhere to be found; what's left is long on "craft" and short on memorable songs, but Rose has packed so much detail into these tracks over the years that they're fascinating even so. Ersatz porno-groove with flamenco guitars? Sprawling, portentous synth/sample intros? A page or ten from the Andrew Lloyd Webber/Jim Steinman songwriting notebook? Not one but two orchestras over a succession of meandering ballads with maybe one chorus between them? All present and accounted for, all godawful ideas on paper, all somehow listenable, even enjoyable, in practice. Give him this: the motherfucker believes in his schlock vision, and for that we should be...grateful? Heh heh. Awed, maybe.

Only the lyrics seem unfinished, often tailing off in mid-phrase and overall failing to generate the heat of the anthemic. There are several puzzling allusions to foreign lands and geopolitical struggles, none of which bear any apparent relation to the obsessive introspection of the rest of the record. Mostly they scream "writer's block"; there are few real hooks or grabby images here, and without any real hits the record has tumbled down the charts precipitously in recent weeks. A would-be masterpiece, "Chinese Democracy" is perhaps the most extravagant monument to a dead end that the vanishing music industry has yet foisted upon us. You may find Rose's excessive perfectionism intriguing, disgusting, or plain depressing. Or maybe, like 99% of the listening public, you've simply moved on. I don't blame you.