Attention Deficit Delirium

Warren DeMartini playing live
in Los Angeles in August 2007.
(Photo courtesy of Warren DeMartini.net.)

Twenty-six years after Out Of The Cellar became a multi-platinum hit and made them rock superstars, original Ratt members Stephen Pearcy (vocals), Warren DeMartini (guitars) and Bobby Blotzer (drums), along with long-time bassist Robbie Crane and guitarist/ex-Quiet Riot member Carlos Cavazo, have released one of the strongest musical statements of their career, Infestation. It’s their first new album in 11 years, and despite hitting middle age, the band has not lost its edge and produced a multifaceted collection of catchy hard rock tunes. It also showcases stellar six-string playing from DeMartini, whom many fans consider to be an underrated rock guitarist.

Prior to the release of their new album, ADD spoke with DeMartini to discuss creating Ratt’s latest platter, his fateful phone call with former Scorpions guitarist Uli Jon Roth and playing with Carlos Cavazo. For more from DeMartini, read my Ratt feature in the recent Aquarian Weekly.

I’m enjoying the new album.
Me, too. Right now I’m going back and listening to stuff that I wrote, at least for my parts. Some stuff you come up with and record on the spot, and you don’t play it again unless it gets into the live set. Sometimes you go, “How did I do that?”

Infestation reminds me of the first EP and Out Of The Cellar with elements of Detonator present as well.
I always thought it was too bad that Detonator didn’t come out between Dancing Undercover and Reach For The Sky because I think it would’ve been a different thing. But by the time Detonator came out, the scene had really changed.

DeMartini (left) with the current Ratt roster.

It feels like since Nirvana we really haven’t had a major paradigm shift in rock music. There hasn’t been a band that’s come along and really reinvented rock ‘n roll. Would you agree?
It sure doesn’t seem like it to me. It doesn’t seem like anything has really stood out one way or the other because everything is so fragmented and there’s so much to choose from. Except that rock has slowly, quietly gotten stronger and stronger, at least at retail in terms of ’70s and ’80s rock. You can see it in retail chain stores now, and that’s been strong for years now. I feel like everyone took a look around and felt that this was still the best [stuff].

Stephen said that producer Michael Baskette pushed you guys to do something like Out Of The Cellar and play to those strengths.
I always felt that even when the band broke up after the Detonator tour in ’91 that there was still good work ahead if we wanted to be around for it.

DeMartini and Stephen Pearcy rock the house at the Ratt record release party
at the Key Club in Los Angeles on April 20, 2010.
(Photo © 2010 by Valerie A. Ciliento.)

Do you think that the time off may have helped you to come back with something fresh?
I don’t know. Not really. The time off was unavoidable, and I feel if we had continued on from 1999, this record could’ve come out much earlier. But it takes some time and miles to break in a band to do something on a record. It’s a weird thing. It was good preparation for us to get together and do a couple of tours before we did this record, because it brings in a continuity that you just can’t get any other way. At least that’s the way it is for Ratt.

The Scorpions have announced that they’re going to stop making albums and retire after this next, extensive world tour. They’re a little older than you guys.
That reminds me of staying up trying to learn Uli Jon Roth guitar parts with Jake E. Lee when I was a high school. It’s funny because in one of the first Scorpions record, possibly the first, there was a phone number and someone called it continuously until finally — and this was back when it was five bucks a minute to call overseas because it was still the AT&T cable that went from New York under the ocean — they got Uli Jon Roth’s number and that circulated amongst us guitar rats. I used to stay up until three or four in the morning on the weekends to call Germany and hopefully catch him when he was home. I eventually did talk to him once, and it was amazing. I was probably 14 or 15, and he was super cool. It was an amazing thing to meet him all those years later and that he actually remembered that.





The phone number was in the album?
It was on the album jacket, and Rudy Schenker told me that it was his number. Back then Uli was doing everything. He was booking the band and managing them. It was either on Fly To The Rainbow or Lonesome Crow. We played a gig with them in Chicago last summer. My family moved to San Diego from Chicago when I was about 12, and then when I was 14 or 15, I went back to Chicago and stayed with my brother. The Scorpions were playing a club in Chicago called Beginnings, and some friends arranged for me to get in because it was a 21 and over show. I didn’t actually get introduced to them, but someone walked in one of the flyers and they all signed it. It’s fun to think back about all that stuff. We played a show with them last summer at an amphitheater on Lake Michigan, and it’s a great place to play. You can see the city skyline and the water. After the show we talked about doing some stuff again this summer. At that time I didn’t know is that it would be a farewell tour for them. I hope it’s something that they can spread over the next 10 years.





When did you finally meet Uli John Roth?
I met him at the House of Blues. He was touring with Michael Schenker a few years ago.

And he actually remembered talking to you 15 or 20 years earlier?
Yeah, he did. That was the first thing I asked him. He said, “I remember you. I don’t remember everybody, but a name like yours I remember.” [laughs] I’m not sure if anybody else ever rang him up at home, but definitely no one from California [did]. It was a really eventful thing to actually get him on the phone. Imagine being 15 and having all the records spread out. The bass player in my high school band would stay over, and we would figure out what the time change would be, and figured he would be getting up at 11 or 12. We did want to call too early, so we would wait until three or four [in the morning]. Years later I found out he was nothing like that. He would get up early, and most of the time that we called he was out doing stuff. The one time that he answered the phone there was a moment where I just couldn’t breathe. There was a little bit of an echo because of the length of this telephone connection, and it was very scratchy. But it was definitely him. You could just tell. I could recognize his voice from the songs that he sung. It was cool.

DeMartini performing at the Wiltern Theatre in Los Angeles in July 2009.
(Photo courtesy of Warren DeMartini.net.)

Do you interface with your fans through social media sites?
Somebody was impersonating me on Facebook, so I secured that. I started it, but I haven’t had the chance to really do it regularly. Getting ready for this tour and getting ready for the release, it’s something that I haven’t been able to work in. We keep in touch when we go out on the road. It’s a challenge for me to balance the band time and my own time, so when I’m done with one I don’t really want to change the other.

What are your favorite songs on the album?
There’s a song in the album called “Take A Big Bite,” and the opening reminds me of a moment during the first rehearsal, when Stephen came back to the band, and we were rehearsing “Lack Of Communication”. Live we would come up with different endings [because the song fades on album]. We came up with an ending for “Lack of Communication” that was more of a segueway with a completely different riff to it. We rehearsed the song, and by the end of it Stephen was blown away. He said we should make a song out of that, and it was at that moment I realized that creatively our friendship was still intact, even after all the tumultuous years that had gone by. The riff to “Big Bite” opens up with the riff that used to be the outro to “Lack of Communication”. “Best Of Me” was one of those magic moments where Carlos played the opening riffs when we were rehearsing the material for Infestation, and it just went on to be a favorite of mine. “Last Call” is one of my favorite things I’ve done in a while. It was a riff that we worked out for the self-titled 1999 album that came out in Columbia, but it didn’t make it onto that record, which ended up being a good thing because I mixed that riff and the other parts with some ideas that Carlos had. We ended up co-writing the music that one, and then Stephen came up with the words. That’s a really fun riff to play.

The latest Ratt album, Infestation.

Is there anything that your fans be surprised to learn about you after all these years?
I’ve got a lot of song ideas started, and the archive continues to grow. It wouldn’t be unusual that that makes its way out if Ratt takes a break.









Stephen Pearcy (center) and Ratt circa 2010.

The infamous rodent rockers from the Sunset Strip are back. Twenty-six years after Out Of The Cellar became a multi-platinum monster hit and made them rock superstars, original Ratt members Stephen Pearcy (vocals), guitarist Warren DeMartini (guitars) and Bobby Blotzer (drums), along with long-time bassist Robbie Crane and guitarist/ex-Quiet Riot member Carlos Cavazo, just released one of the strongest musical statements of their career, Infestation. It’s their first new album in 11 years, and despite hitting middle age, the band has not lost its edge and produced something that represents different aspects of their career, from their party hearty heyday through to their modern maturity.

Prior to the release of their new album, ADD caught up with Pearcy — who describes himself as a “professional screamer” — to discuss their latest platter, musical philosophies, late Ratt guitarist Robbin Crosby and the life lessons he has learned. For more from Pearcy, read my Ratt feature in the recent Aquarian Weekly.


You have said that producer Michael Baskette felt you could do another album like Out Of The Cellar, and he pushed you guys to play to those strengths.
Not only was he the producer, but he was a fan, so he knew we wanted to hear. That was a big plus because all we can do is say, “Here’s our stuff.” He put his two cents in, and I co-wrote one song with him. He has great ideas. For the vocals, Michael and I used the same schematic but more simplified. We didn’t have nine of me out there, we had three of me, which gives me my sound, and I sang straight through on a lot of stuff. Michael was great. A lot of that session was as real as it gets. We worked hard on it for months and months and months. I’d put this up against Cellar any day.

You now have Carlos Cavazo in the band, and Robbie Crane has been in the band for a while. How did the band’s chemistry work out this time?
Really good. First of all, Robert has been in the band longer than Juan [Croucier] now — 13 or 14 years, I think — and we’ve known Carlos for so long, it’s like he’s been in the band forever. He brought that element of a real guitar player back, playing the flying Vs, and he was perfect for the course. And the first two songs he brought, “Best Of Me” and “Eat Me Up Alive” were the first lead tracks. I knew that I was going to rip into that thing, so he brought some good stuff to the table.

Pearcy and guitarist Warren DeMartini performing at Sweden Rock 2008.
(Photo credit: Appelmos.)

Could it be argued that what distinguishes a lot of rock bands is the quality and tone of the singer?
Sure. When I do solo stuff — and granted I write a lot of Ratt music and lyrics — it’s immediately identifiable, and that’s a great thing. That’s something that the new bands rarely have, where you can listen to something and go “that’s so-and-so” because they know the identity of the band through the singer’s voice. Usually it’s the case, “There’s that band that sounds like…”

At the same time, Ratt has always possessed a very distinct guitar sound.
Robbin set the standard for our two-guitar sound. I did more writing for the band in the early days. Nothing has really changed, but we’re giving everybody more of an opportunity to write. If it’s a good song, it’s a good song. As long as it comes from the band, that’s what stands out. That’s why this record turned out the way it did, because we wrote it. The producer did what he was supposed to do, put his two cents in, but we there are no real outside writers. I’ve worked with brilliant writers, but that doesn’t guarantee anything. The record turned out the way it did because we did it, and that’s something I’m very happy about.





Infestation showcases numerous contrasts: “Best Of Me” has that super melodic, Invasion of Your Privacy-style, whereas “Eat Me Up Alive” and “Lost Weekend” are more like early Ratt songs. And on “Lost Weekend” you could’ve had big vocal choruses, but you didn’t, and it sounds like you’re purposely limiting your vocal range to get a certain sound. It’s catchy yet not overtly melodic.
There’s another thing I’ve gotten into — and I do it live, and sometimes it trips people out — where it doesn’t sound like [what's] on the record. I’m trying something different so I can into it and enjoy what I’m doing. If you want to hear the song the way it’s done, listen to the record, but if you want to hear me do it and enjoy myself doing it, come on down. I come from the old school of Plant, Tyler and Bloom [from Blue Oyster Cult].  These bands got away with trying different stuff, especially Plant. One reason why such a big fan of Zeppelin is because of [Robert] Plant. He did so many things outside of the box, yet at the same time he sang what he was supposed to sing. [Steven] Tyler would do it with words, but Plant would really sing different stuff, and that’s what really got me into having a good time doing it. it pisses my band off sometimes, but I don’t need to prove I hit that note. I already hit it. The same thing with [Rob] Halford. He steps outside the box quite a bit, too. I love it. That’s where I come from, especially over the last few years I’m doing different things were I can step out. The same thing happened with that song ["Lost Weekend"]. I tried different things.

Obviously you have to weigh the fans expectations against what you want to do. Last year you toured and played all of Out Of The Cellar. What kind of response have you been getting to the new album?
There’s been a great response. It’s been amazing. The same with the video. It’s tongue-in-cheek. Our audience is such a wide range of people these days, from 10 years old to 50 years old, so you give ‘em what you’ve got. We were never a band to give you anything more than what we had. If there’s anything else, read it in the headlines.





The lyrics on Infestation range from sleazy Ratt N’ Roll to more romantic concepts. What inspired them?
“Best Of Me” is a good-as-it-gets kind of thing. “Eat Me Up Alive” is stop your whining and bitching and moaning; then again, I want some of that. “Garden Of Eden” is about heroin. I was in a weird place doing this record. I was personally out of control in a lot of situations. “Take Me Home” is a song I wrote for my daughter. “Garden Of Eden” was written about a smackdown during the record.

There are lot of people who “grow up” and get out of the music that they grew up listening to, or they treat it as a nostalgia thing. I still love the music I grew up listening to and will always listen to it. What about you?
You never lose the love for the music or what made you feel that way. Or gave you that good thing or that bad thing or that smell or that taste. It never, ever goes away. I could be kicking back on a porch years from now and still thrown down Sin After Sin or heavy-duty Priest.

Ratt once again looms over the Sunset Strip.
(Photo © 2010 by Valerie A. Ciliento.)

Are your apologetic at all for anything that happened in the past?
Oh no, not at all. I was the last of the Mohicans to go down. I didn’t get married until my daughter was [around] five. She’s 14 now. I was thoroughly enjoying whatever I was handed and enjoyed our scene. You learn from it. You can’t take any of that back. Some of it’s foolish, and some of it’s good, bad and ugly, but everybody has it. If there’s a person out there that can think otherwise it’s very hypocritical because everybody has all those angles in their lives. Then you put yourself out in this business, and that’s what you get. You can’t be in rock ‘n roll and claim to be a saint. That’s just not the way it is. If the Internet was around back then, holy shit…

People are bringing their kids shows now. Is it funny to be perceived as a family band in a way?
Not really. I wouldn’t want them to see what still goes down now and then, but we watch our own. My kid comes to our shows all the time. I bring her out on stage. One time we were kicking a ball around on stage in Irvine during a gig. This is what we do and can share it. I never thought I would ever see that day in my life, but it’s good. We do see a lot of young kids with their parents, and it’s incredible. Nowadays that’s how they’re going to find out about us. It’s like back in the Seventies, word-of-mouth.

Ratt back in the Eighties with the late Robbin Crosby (center).

How has being a dad changed your life?
I’m no saint, but I certainly got my shit together. I did that when Robin went down personally. All of us have walked that line. You figure it out eventually.

What are your best recollections of Robbin Crosby from the Eighties?
Robbin was a real guy. He lived and breathed what he was doing, Ratt music. He was committed. I used to play rhythm guitar, but once he joined I decided to just sing. Robbin was a real, true rock ‘n’ roller. He was the real deal in every way, and that’s what made “Round And Round” and what created his demise. Like our old manager said, it’s a dangerous occupation. I think it was back in the day, and that’s what a lot of the newer bands don’t understand and probably never will. It’s not the same out there anymore. Everybody was just full tilt in, that’s the way it was.

Are you still living the same lifestyle today? What lessons did you learn from past?
Well, a lot of mistakes… [chuckles] Everything’s in moderation. I am not a fake person. I live and breathe what I am, and when I go out there to sing and present myself, I can’t change or fake it. I can moderate. I never know what I’ll get every night. Sometimes I can go out there and think, “Why am I even here?” I’ve learned to appreciate being out there [on stage], but I haven’t changed some things because there’s no reason for me to. I believe in what I’m doing, and if I were to fake it people would know. I also wouldn’t be a puppet for anybody either and think I have to do things that I used to because I’d have to because it’s entertainment or because it’s the way it was. I don’t think any of us believe that anymore. We get out there and try to do the best we can.

Pearcy and DeMartini at the Ratt record release party on April 20, 2010.
(Photo © 2010 by Valerie A. Ciliento.)

You played the entire Out Of The Cellar album during last year’s summer tour. Isn’t it surreal to think that it came out over 25 years ago?
Yeah, it is, because I didn’t think I would survive. Rest in peace, Robbin, he did not. I left the band [in 1992] because I thought it was crazy and we were going to kill ourselves because we had been on the road for 6 or 7 years straight, playing nonstop arenas and doing too much of this and too much of that and all being separated from family and friends. And the fact we were able to get our shit together and hang out 25 years later is crazy in itself.

Doesn’t Bobby have a book coming out called Tales Of A Ratt?
Oh God, yeah. That’s his thing. I was doing literally something that was ready to come out last year before I got back together with the band, Ratt Tales, and I’m glad he didn’t because there’s actually a happy ending and no ending right now. So I’ll wait for Ratt Tales. Bobby has something to say. Who knows what it is, but he’s going to say it.

Out Of The Cellar: The album that started it all.

Did he consult all the guys while writing his book?
We were sent some things, and we gave our opinions, but all in all it’s his words. He’s going to be responsible solely for anything from it — good, bad or ugly. He represents himself how he represents himself. [laughs] No comment. Everybody and their mother is doing a tell-all book, so I’m glad I didn’t right now. I have been trying to get Ratt Tales together for quite a bit, but I’m not in a big rush to [finish it] because the journey isn’t over. It’s not just about the three Ps [Pussy, Party, Paycheck] or the life of Ratt, it’s more involved. It mentions a lot of things that Ratt was involved in that people forget. People should never whine and moan about success to any degree, and I think a lot of things have really changed in our occupation, so to speak. It is a business, but it’s still this thing you do to make you happy, that fulfills you and you want to turn out to other people. And they might give you something for it – drugs, sex, money, I don’t know – but to bitch about what we do in music is just profound. I’ve learned quite a bit, but I regret nothing.



Could you imagine this band without this frontman?

In the late Robert Altman’s satirical film The Player, Hollywood executive Larry Levy proposes that his studio can save money on hiring writers by developing scripts themselves, tearing ideas right from front page newspaper headlines. To which the film’s anti-hero, fellow executive and competitor Griffin Mill, retorts: “I was just thinking what an interesting concept it is to eliminate the writer from the artistic process. If we could just get rid of these actors and directors, maybe we’ve got something here.”

That same wisecrack can now be applied to lead singers — after all, who needs someone with a famous face to deliver the words? With the near departure of vocalist Steven Tyler from Aerosmith on the eve of their 40th anniversary, his bandmates immediately began contemplating who might take his place. That seemed like a rather hasty move, but then again this is a group that is in middle age and would not have years to wait for their frontman to decide to return. And these days famed rock gods, particularly vocalists, are becoming more replaceable than ever, something rarely heard of twenty or more years ago.

Replacing famous singers is not without precedent. When Bon Scott died, AC/DC brought in an equally distinct but different screecher in Brian Johnson, and they became huge. That’s a rare exception, but there are others. After Peter Gabriel departed Genesis, the British art-rockers soldiered on with drummer Phil Collins as frontman (so to speak), but he did make them more commercially viable and generated bigger hits. (For true progressive music fans, though, that was heresy.) Sammy Hagar’s turn in Van Halen allowed them to go more pop as well (not that everyone liked that). Hagar was also a star in his right when he joined VH, but lightning did not strike twice for them after he left their ranks. Remember the Gary Cherone era? Further, Ronnie James Dio kept Black Sabbath successful for two albums (and subsequent reunions) after they fired Ozzy Osbourne in 1979, and their music remained as hard and heavy as ever, even today under their new moniker Heaven & Hell. Dio also gained fame previously fronting Rainbow.

Van Halen reunited with Sammy Hagar in 2004.

My friend Eric Vitoulis went to see Journey three years ago at Jones Beach Theater on Long Island. Prior to the show it was announced that former Yngwie Malmsteen vocalist Jeff Scott Soto would be filling in for Steve Augieri, who was having vocal problems that soon lead to his departure after eight years with the group. A woman in front of Eric turned to her friend and said, “Steve Perry’s not here?” (Not since 1996, my dear.) That ironic statement is proof that many fairweather fans — i.e. the casual listeners who turn musicians  into platinum hit machines — do not really pay all that much attention to the lives of the artists they listen to. It’s what I call the “Rock Of Ages syndrome”. The opening night crowd for that Broadway hit were true ’80s fanatics, right down to their attire, while a subsequent audience months later was mainly comprised of suburbanites, many of whom clearly do not often listen to the songs that were performed nor always remember who performed what. But they love the nostalgia and kitsch factors that Rock Of Ages represents.

Alice In Chains with new frontman William DuVall (at right).

There are many Journey fans who would vehemently argue that no one could fill Steve Perry’s legendary shoes. Yet three vocalists have since, and the latest one, Filipino native Arnel Pineda, has helped boost their careers once again, both in terms of album and concert ticket sales. Journey are admittedly an anomaly, a beloved institution who do not seem to get sidelined for long due to limited warranties on replacment singers, two of whom have purposely sounded very close to Perry. Conversely, when revered metal bands like Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Motley Crue, Ratt and Black Sabbath replaced famous frontmen who left — in Sabbath’s case there were two — fans did not respond as well. They were still there but in diminished numbers. More commercial bands like Foreigner, Styx and others seem to be able to pull this off a little better. Queen certainly made it be known that they were not attempting to diminish or tarnish the legacy of the late Freddie Mercury by bringing in former Bad Company and Free singer Paul Rodgers, and fans responded favorably. They also performed songs by Rodgers’ previous groups to hammer home their point that they were Queen + Paul Rodgers, rather than with. Similarly, ’90s rockers Alice In Chains have soldiered on with William DuVall as original frontman Layne Staley died of a drug overdose in 2002. Like Journey did last year with their platinum Revelation, AIC’s latest album Black Gives Way To Blue hit #5 on the Billboard charts.

Could anyone truly replace Steven Tyler in Aerosmith? Of course not. When guitarist Joe Perry was gone from the band between 1979 and 1984, the group experienced a dip in popularity. Imagine what would happen with a Tyler-less line-up? Plus he has always been the singer. Groups that have experienced downtime between singers often were going through a quiet phase (the ’90s comes to mind for many) and were a little younger when it happened and thus have been able to cope with such a transition better. A decade after the departure of original frontman and songwriter Dennis DeYoung, Styx has persevered with vocalist Lawrence Gowan. Guitarist Mick Jones has been the lone original member of Foreigner since singer Lou Gramm departed in 2003, and they had been the two lone original members for years prior. And Perry hasn’t been in Journey since 1996, nor performed live with them since 1987. (And who knows when he’ll reemerge publicly.)

Styx ten years after with frontman Lawrence Gowan (at bottom center).

We should not begrudge a group that wishes to continue once a famous member, usually the frontman, departs. This is their livelihood. They deserve to make a living. And there are people who still want to hear the music, regardless of who sings it, as long as they’re good. The irony that the aforementioned Journey follower did not even know who she would be listening to onstage may be ironic — some casual KISS fans probably do not know that Ace Frehley and Peter Criss are long gone — but the upside of this situation shows how some fans really just want to hear the music. Purists will certainly argue that point and are certainly free not to attend the shows or buy the new albums. In terms of replacing iconic singers, the cliché business concept “what the market will bear” comes to mind — even if some people think the results are unbearable.