Gilby Clarke, As seen on the weekly CBS Hit Television Show In their quest to find a lead singer the Super Group also features:
TOMMY
LEE (Motley
Crue) Drums
JASON NEWSTEAD (Metallica) Bass
Lukas Rossi
LEAD VOCALS
Hosted by Jane's Addiction guitarist, DAVE
NAVARRO, and co-host BROOKE BURKE.
Gilby
Clarke gets his ya-ya's out
Okay, this guy Gilby Clarke was in Guns N’ Roses. He also worked with
Nancy Sinatra. He even gave the suddenly cool again Heart some real
rock ’n’ roll oomph. He twiddled production knobs for internationally
lauded, tumbledown punks The Bronx. More importantly, he’s made a bunch
of records that rock ’n’ roll purists the world over treasure (particularly
in Japan) and occasionally argue about.
If that ain’t a cache of cred, than what is?
But forget all that. What you should know is this: Gilby Clarke understands
rock ’n’ roll; hell, his heart pumps the shit. As a singer, guitarist
and songwriter he’s an old-school mash-up of Ron Wood, Johnny Thunders,
Cheap Trick and B.B. King.
See, the tousled guitar hero was but a 17 -year-old Cleveland punk when
he split for the sparkly glit of Hollywood. A fresh-off-the-bus cliché?
Nah, Clarke made it all his own.
He dived into the Tinseltown music scene headfirst and came up swinging
in Candy (whose lone 1984 Polygram album, the power-popped-out gem Whatever
Happened to Fun?, is referenced in the hippest of rock crit corners;
copies fetch hefty coin on Ebay).
When the criminally ignored Candy soured, Clarke fronted Kill for Thrills,
a wonderfully strident, big riff quartet (for whom Clarke penned the
lion’s share of tunes). KFT checked in with the pop metal blast of two
woefully underrated platters on MCA, Commercial Suicide and
Dynamite From Nightmareland.
>From there, Clarke won Izzy’s spot in the Guns N’ Roses circus;
private jets, football stadiums and diplomatic immunity followed. He
spent three years on the massive Use Your Illusion world tour
that began in the fall of ’91. Clarke appeared on the GN’R albums’ The
Spaghetti Incident, Live Era ’88 – ’91 and Greatest Hits.
His, uh, “highs” during this blur period included work with Michael
Jackson, the Freddy Mercury Tribute Concert, GN’R’s Paris pay-per view
— with Lenny Kravitz, Steven Tyler and Jeff Beck — and a handful of
GN’R videos. He was also a recipient of the MTV Video Vanguard Award.
When the Guns machine imploded at the behest of W. Axl Rose, Clarke
hit out on his own armed with a les paul and a handful of songs.
Hence his solo show, which kicked off in ’94 with the critically gushed
over Pawnshop Guitars (included the four-on-the-floor rock radio
hits “Cure Me...Or Kill Me,” and “Tijuana Jail”), followed by ’97’s
The Hangover (two cuts can be heard in the Bruce Willis vehicle
The Story of Us), ’98’s Rubber, ’99’s 99 Live,
and 2002’s Swag.
Too, Clarke gigged and recorded occasionally with his former GN’R running
buds (see Duff McKagan’s ’93 solo release Believe in Me and Slash’s
Snakepit).
In the meantime, the guitarist began sharpening his studio skills in
his own Redrum recording facility. He’s produced many, including Alice
Cooper, LA Guns and the aforementioned Rolling Stone Best New
Artist pick The Bronx.
For kicks, Clarke launched a couple of jam nights in LA. His all-star
Muddy Waters-inspired Blues Mafia gigs weekly at the world famous jazz
club the Baked Potato. Another, The Starfuckers, rip the Sunset Boulevard
porn-and-TV-star-studded den the Cat Club. Both nights continue to be
standing-room-only.
Oh, yeah, Clarke and Stray Cat Slim Jim Phantom, formed a killer band
called Col. Parker, whose rootsy, garage rock debut on V2, Rock N'
Roll Music, came out in ’02. That record made a few year-end key
top-ten lists.
In ’03 Gilby joined Heart for their national tour and TV appearances.
He oversaw much of Nancy Sinatra’s California Girl record, and
played guitar in her touring band.
When Clarke’s not off on some tour or tweaking rock ’n’ roll racket
in his studio you might find him nosing around motorcycle and classic
car shows. He is, after all, the proud owner of a few muscle cars and
hogs.
Then it’s not surprising that Clarke gets mad respect from the biker
contingent. And well he should, the man knows his Harleys. He’s been
spotted on them everywhere, from the grimy backstreets of Hollywood
to the cover of Hot Bike Magazine. In fact, Clarke mounted his
Fat Boy and rode 3,000 miles to the ’04 Sturgis Motorcycle Rally where
he gigged with Heart at the Buffalo Chip Campgrounds.
His boyish face is a presence at fashion shows too. This isn’t a stretch
if you consider that Clarke has always sported a perfected sense of
his own rock star aesthetic. Moreover, Clarke’s wife Daniella happens
to be the couture goddess of her own Frankie B. line (named after
their lovely daughter), the low rise, trendsetting label that single-handedly
changed the way women dress. It’s true, but that’s a whole other story.
Anyway, Clarke continues to write gut-bucket rock ’n’ roll songs with
fat choruses. He continues to produce worthy bands. You can find him
slinging guitar and doing his Lennonesque vocal thing in the Blues Mafia,
The Starfuckers and on occasional solo dates around the globe.
He’s also one of the sweetest gents you could ever hope to meet. He’s
a guitar hero, certainly, but also a gentlemanly student of rock ’n’
roll.
