A jaw-dropping tell-all from the lead singer of the 1980s supergroup Ratt: the groupies, the trashed hotel rooms, the drugs—and just how much you can get away with when you’re one of the biggest hair metal stars of all time.
Women. Spandex. Drugs. Hair spray...Welcome to heavy metal rock ’n’ roll, circa 1980, when all you needed was the right look, burning ambition, and a chance. Stephen Pearcy and supergroup Ratt hit the bull’s-eye. What they did with their fame and fortune is a riotous tale of...
SEX, DRUGS, RATT & ROLL
Pearcy was a scrawny, horny, thrill-seeking teenager with an electric guitar who had graduated from backyard parties in San Diego to half-empty dives in Los Angeles before he and his band broke through at Whiskey a Go Go. Cranking out metal just as metal got hot, Ratt was the perfect band at the perfect time, and their hit single “Round and Round” became a top-selling anthem. The bigger Ratt got, the more excessive Pearcy and his “pussy pirates” became. There was nothing these guys wouldn’t snort, drink, bed, or break. And the fans were just as bad, as husbands and mothers offered up nubile wives and daughters as tribute to their rock ’n’ roll idols.
On a journey that could happen only in America, Pearcy met everyone from Michael Jackson to Drew Barrymore (at age twelve, at a New York nightclub, at 2 a.m.) to Rodney Dangerfield. His infamous partner-in-crime, Ratt guitarist Robbin Crosby, a blond Viking with an unsurpassed appetite for drugs and women, cuts a towering and tragic figure throughout.
As Ratt scrambled up a wall of fame and wealth, so they experienced the gut-wrenching free fall, after too many hours in buses, planes, and limos; too many women; too many drugs; and all the personality clashes and ego trips that marked the beginning of the end. Pearcy offers a stunningly honest selfportrait of a man running on the fumes of ambition and loneliness as the party crashed. His rock ’n’ roll confessional, by turns incredible, hilarious, and lyrical, is a story of survival—and a search for the things that matter most.
Opening with a harrowing account of attempting to cut his newborn daughter's umbilical cord as a cocktail of intoxicants coursed through his system, Pearcy's story of life in one of America's biggest hard rock bands of the '80s runs the gamut from charming to saddening to deplorable, sometimes within the space of a paragraph. Growing up in a dysfunctional family with a heroin-addicted father, Pearcy developed an early fondness for drinking, drugging, and riding his bike at top speeds through San Diego, the latter of which led to a horrific accident that left him in the hospital for months. While recovering, he began learning guitar, which he quickly abandoned in favor of singing. Once he found his medium, Pearcy eventually made his way to Los Angeles and founded the band Ratt. Hanging out with the likes of David Lee Roth, Ozzy Osbourne, and M tley Cr e, Pearcy and his cohorts worked tirelessly to get stage time before getting signed. Once there, the escapades with women, drugs, and alcohol escalated until the misbehavior caught up with them. It's a common cautionary tale, but Pear-cy's humility and sense of humor make engaging reading for those who were there and those who wish they were.
Don't have to be a RATT fan to enjoy this book
Growing up, I loved listening to RATT, actually I still do. It's great to read about all the fun times the band had. It was also interesting to read about Robbin Crosby (founding member) with Pearcy. Robbin was a big part of the band and it's sad to see how he never caught get that monkey off his back. RIP Robbin. Hope you enjoy the book as much as I did. RATT n ROLL forever!
Grew up with Ratt. Ratt and Queensryche 1985 was my first concert. It was great to read their story and know what was going on behind the scenes throughout their career. Reading this made me realize that I should have gone to LA long ago to pursue a music career. After all, it was never gonna happen in a po dunk town in west Texas. Also made me realize that maybe it was a blessing that I didn’t go there after all the crap they went through. RIP Robbin “King” Crosby.
Not Bad - Could Have Been Way Better
Reads Quickly - Glosses Over What was Once a Great Hair Band - Very Self Indulged Man - Self Obsessed with Fame - Three Out of Five Probably a Little Generous