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She agreed. “If I’m going in, take care of the kids” was the last thing she said to me.

WHILE PERLA WAS IN REHAB IT GOT bad—our nanny took care of the kids while I maintainined a healthy Oxy habit. I found an L.A. connection and bought about a three-month supply. And while I didn’t do it every day, eventually I did it every night. I kept it from the band like I kept it from my family. But then eventually it crept in: I’d do a shot before rehearsal. I’d pursued the creative vibe with the band in a clear mental state, but eventually there I was again… foggy. It was so out of hand that I was shooting up in Matt’s bathroom, and it was obvious to everyone that I was high. All the same, no one said a word, at least for a while, and it says a lot about our collective tolerance. I wasn’t even trying to hide my habit from a band of guys who’d had their share of problems and a singer who still had his. I was so obnoxious about it that Matt even found blood on the wall. If my nodding out at rehearsal didn’t give it away, that surely did.

We kept on keeping on, not really going forward, just kind of writing and creatively treading water. I accompanied Matt to a Camp Freddy gig in Vegas, not so much to see the show as to hook up with my Oxy connection and stock up. I thought I knew what I was doing but I don’t think I’d realized how quickly I’d become the dark horse. I remember being backstage at that show: everyone would get quiet when I walked into the room. It was starting to be like that wherever I went.

My manager at that time and now is Carl Stubner, and while I was in Vegas he called me. We talked about a few things, and though I didn’t realize it in the moment, he was listening carefully, trying to gauge where I was at. I don’t remember what I was talking about but suddenly he interrupted me.

“Hey,” he said. “Be honest with me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, man,” I said, lying. “I’m fine. Why?”

“Listen to me… I’m not going to tell you how to live your life and I’m not here to be a cop. I just want to know if you’re okay. Because if you’re not, I am here for you. But you have to be honest with me.”

“I’m fine, really… Yeah, I’m fine.”

I did the gig, I met my drug buddy, I came home to L.A. and knew I was too fucked up to be around Perla, who had come home entirely clean and sober, let alone be around our children. I did the only thing that made sense to me: I checked myself in to a West Hollywood hotel, and I scheduled the day that I would check myself in to rehab. Until that morning I intended to finish up the drugs I’d bought right there in my room or wherever they might lead me. Perla and everyone else was worried about me. But she was patient and tolerant and that is why we love each other the way we do.

I wasn’t fine. But I was almost ready to admit it. I knew that my debauchery needed to end. I had planned to get some space from my wife and from my band after I’d allowed myself those predetermined four months to let it all hang out; I knew I was in need of some solace and quiet. And I got it. This time rehab turned out to be really good for me, because this time I surrendered. First I kicked the drugs, then I cleared my head and did some work on figuring out why I liked to put myself in the same position over and over again. Early in the morning of July 3, 2006, I checked into rehab. I did a full thirty days, I fully surrendered… I learned more about myself than I had ever thought was possible. And as of this writing, I’ve been sober ever since.

ONCE I WAS BACK ON TRACK, THE BAND got back on track and we got down to recording and writing our second record, Libertad . It was a different experience; we were different people exploring new ideas, united by our camaraderie. There was a freedom to the whole thing that was refreshing; it was as if we’d truly grown, or maybe just grown comfortable with who we are as a band.

We’d started working with Rick Rubin back before I got sober; actually I believe it was before and after my Oxy binge. We were excited to do so for obvious reasons—Rick’s track record is legendary. But it didn’t really work out: Rick has his methods; he has his crew there to do the producing and engineering and every few days he pops in to see how it’s going. Usually he’s got a few bands set up like that around town.

That really didn’t work for us. Rick would listen to a bit of what we were doing and tell us to take one part of a song and combine it with something else that he’d heard that he liked. We also got jealous of the fact that he was spreading his focus around, doing four albums at once. It felt like he was always leaving us to see another one of his concubines, and when he was there we didn’t really connect—he sat back and let us go. Under those conditions it felt like this record would take us a year or more to complete.

We broke it off with Rick and moved our operation to Scott’s studio, Lavish. Scott suggested that we give it a go with Brendan O’Brien, who had done most of STP’s records. I’d only known him in that capacity. I liked him well enough when I talked to him on the phone and so we had him come in and everything just seemed to fall into place. Brendan liked working fast and hard and he insisted that every member of the band be present for every session. I think that is one of the best pieces of advice I could ever give to any band.

If one of us didn’t show up on time, Brendan refused to work until everyone was present, which both whipped us into shape pretty good and motivated us to be there. But he brought more than just discipline to the equation, he brought a musicality that stems from the fact that he plays guitar, bass, and drums. At any given moment he could play along with us and it really helped the process. With someone that informed, we progressed very quickly.

OUR SESSIONS WERE CONSISTENT; EVERYONE was there, everyone contributed, and everyone appreciated what each player was doing. I didn’t think it was possible, but the chemistry that came out of that mutual participation surpassed the first Guns sessions. Everyone was so inspired and everything we did, every experiment even, was very musical. We were playing great, Scott was singing great, and what we ended up using as the final tracks on the album were, for the most part, the first or second live takes of each song. That record is what happens when you pair a really good rock-and-roll band who loves what they’re doing with a producer who really understands them and knows exactly what he’s doing.

Every day I’m glad I found the strength to take the high road.

PERLA AND I ARE BOTH ALL CLEANED up now and we’re really happy. July 2007 will be my one-year anniversary, and I’ve gotten more done this past year than in the two years before that combined. You only get so many karmic “Get Out of Jail Free” passes; you’re bound to run out eventually. So far I’ve been extremely lucky, so I’m not taking any more chances. A junkie has only two options, and I’ve got a long list of friends on both sides of the fence. They can get clean or they can get dead, and every day I’m glad I found the strength to take the high road.

SLASH. Copyright © 2007 by Dik Hayd International, LLC. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.