No longer completely plastered, Billy Idol is a man with a plan at 45

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON SEPT. 6, 2001

By Steve Newton

When Billy Idol calls from Anaheim, California, just an hour before playing the House of Blues in the city of Mickey Mouse, I can’t stop myself from asking the obvious. I’ve just got to know if he’s been to the park that Walt built yet.

“I’ve been in Disneyland too long,” quips the 45-year-old rocker with a slight chuckle, “so it’s time to hit the stage.”

Now, one could take Idol’s reply a few ways, but I’m guessing he’s referring to the time he spent in LaLa Land in the late ’80s, drugged up and out of control, trashing the offices of his record label and scrawling the words Why are there no Rebel Yells here? over the walls.

His erratic behaviour came to a head in February of ’90, when Idol was involved in a near-fatal motorcycle crash in downtown L.A.

But he hasn’t given up on Harleys. As a matter of fact, he just got back from a ride all the way from the biker mecca of Sturgis, South Dakota.

“You go into kind of a dream state when you go on really long rides that go on for a few days,” he relates. “And you find yourself mulling over things which would normally be a torture to think about–you actually confront your life. You don’t realize you’re doin’ it, but that’s what happens. It’s almost like a meditative state.”

Whether or not Idol and his long-time sidekick, leather-lovin’ guitar slinger Steve Stevens, will be pulling into Vancouver on stripped-down hogs remains to be seen, but they’ll be playing a sold-out show at the Commodore on Saturday (September 8). Idol’s basically on a greatest-hits tour, but he claims there’s more to his current mission than regurgitating golden oldies.

“Me and Steve are definitely using this whole thing as a springboard to put this group together so we can go and make a new record,” he says. “We’ve been looking for a long time for a group that really fires on all cylinders, and it’s just lately that we’ve come up with some great players. So it’s not as if we haven’t got plans.”

Along with Stevens, Idol’s band includes keyboardist Joe Simon, bassist Steve McGrath, and drummer Brian Tischy. But the 1,000 or so locals who coughed up $50 per ticket (plus those pesky Ticketmaster charge and fees) don’t care about that. They want to see the spiky-haired pop punk jump around, sneer like Elvis, and make a leather-clad fist while twisting his arm just so.

Who can blame them?

“We’re doing a lot of the greatest hits and stuff,” says Idol, “so it’s like a Billy Idol festival out there. But we don’t do all the songs exactly as they are on the records. There’s a flamenco version of ‘Don’t Need a Gun’, there’s an acoustic version of ‘White Wedding’, and there’s a rockabilly version of ‘To Be a Lover’.

“And the cool thing is just the fact that we haven’t been around, knocking everybody over the head with this stuff, for a while. People find it invigorating and fresh, and we’re approaching it like that, so the energy is genuine.”

Idol’s 1990 album, Charmed Life, was–while reviled by some journalists for its tepid version of the Doors’ “L.A. Woman”–generally well received by critics. It didn’t generate a lot of sales in comparison to 1984’s hit-filled Rebel Yell, but is noted for reportedly costing US$1.5 million to make.

“It probably did, yeah,” quips Idol, “but that was the drug bill. It actually only cost $2,000 to make the record.”

Like many image-driven recording artists who reach international stardom at an early age, Idol overindulged in the accoutrements of the rock ‘n’ roll trade. But he professes to have his past habits under control these days.

“That’s the great thing about doing this at the moment,” he explains. “Instead of being completely plastered like we were about 10 or 15 years ago, we’re able to do this stuff and enjoy it and not have to be messed up. We sorta did all that.”

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