DOKKEN: All BOZOS On This Bus!

It’s election day in America, and I’m in Washington, D.C. Several miles away, Ronnie & Nancy are celebrating the fact that most Americans have decided to keep the eagle on the mountaintop. Meanwhile, I’m sitting in a cavernous arena watching a heavy metal band called Dokken open a show for Ronnie James Dio. The music is LOUD, Dokken have the moves and sound down pat, and the Washington headbangers are out in full force.

HEAVY METAL: 10, CRITICS: 0

Dokken are pretty good at what they play. To these ears, they sounded better than the headlining act, though it ain’t easy competing with Ronnie J’s lasers, sphinxes and good looks. In their own words, Dokken try to merge the “heavy with melodic elements,” and there is even some contention within the band about what constitutes the difference between “heavy metal” and “hard rock.” They don’t produce the kind of music I generally listen to during my off hours, but some of their stuff (“Breaking The Chains” in particular) made me think of Free and early Bad Company for some reason.

BLINDED BY

THE LIGHT?

“I have one question for you!” says lead singer Don Dokken halfway through the group’s set. “Who are we?” “DOKKEN!!” roars the Washington crowd, and the questioning goes on until everyone gets it right. (Doesn’t require much guess-work, I would presume, since a banner with the band’s name hangs above them. Sorta reminds me of a roller disco book I once saw that defined the word “step”—“putting one foot in front of the other”—just in case someone had forgotten.) “Why are we here?” he continues. (Because I let my editor talk me into these things?) The guy next to me is on his feet, screaming “To fuckin’ party!!” “Are we here to rock?” Unanimous “YEAH!!” “And also to remember all the things that have happened in our lives?” (?!?) “Washington has the best fuckin’ looking women in the world! This is for all the ladies in the audience...”

Several rows in front of me sits a balding, middle-aged man who takes notes and looks thoroughly disgusted with the whole proceedings. I imagine he’s a music critic from a local newspaper. He looks awfully stodgy, and I begin to hope he isn’t me in a few years. I mean, you gotta keep in perspective that these kids love this stuff. This is supposed to be fun. Don’t you remember passing out at a Deep Purple concert in 11th grade, not hearing for a week afterward, and thinking you’d seen God? (Yeah, but what about the musical perspective?) “This is for all you metal maniacs!” says Don. The guy next to me is going apeshit by this time, and I begin to wonder whether they should declare those butane lighters lethal weapons.

“It’s election day here in Washington, D.C.,” says Don. “Mondale against Reagan. But if I had my way, you know who I’d elect for President? Ronnie James Dio!! Let’s get a man in there with some balls!!!” The crowd goes wild.

He’p!

MEET DOKKEN

Despite some misconceptions, Dokken are not a German band. They hail from L.A. (the name is Norwegian), but they did get their first break in Germany. Don moved there in 1980, met Scorpions producer Dieter Dierks, sang back-up vocals on the Scorp’s Blackout LP, produced and peddled his own demo tape, and got signed to Carrere Records. He immediately formed the current version of Dokken with George Lynch on guitar and Mick Brown on drums, although the band’s original bassist was Juan Croucier, who now plays with Ratt. (There are a lot of incestuous relationships within this whole current heavy metal “phenomenon.” Two other members of Ratt played with Dokken at one time or another, Don has produced sessions for Great White and Black ’N’ Blue, and he shares vocal duties with Steve Marriott and Charlie Huhn on a forthcoming solo LP by Scorpions drummer Herman Rarebell.) The band was a hit in Germany, returned to L.A., and got signed to Elektra—but the rest ain’t exactly coming up roses yet.

The members of Dokken don’t seem to be bad guys. Don displays just a tad of the heavy metal arrogance offstage, but the vibes are generally good. George is mildmannered, soft-spoken and a bit aloof. Current bassist Jeff Pilson (who played the lead singer role in Marty Balin’s Rock Justice opera) is very good natured, a bit of an intellectual, a former college music major, and keeps telling me how much I look like Iggy Pop (which is news to me). Drummer Mick (who took lessons from the Grateful Dead’s Mickey Hart) is quiet, nice, keeps to himself, and is constantly smiling.

These guys appear to be extremely serious about what they’re doing (“Well, Mick’s definitely in it for the party," laugh his bandmates), and say they’re disinterested in the typical voguish heavy metal image-making—although they do spend a fair amount of time backstage donning leather, spandex, bandanas, make-up and ratting their hair (“Time to play rock god,’’ says Don), as various rock businessmen stand around discussing “heavy metal concepts.” It hasn’t been an easy road. Don claims they’re all broke. They’re tired of being an opening act, which generally means no soundcheck, poor lighting and a lack of stage area. They’re tired, and they want a piece of the heavy metal pie.

Says Don: “We’re at a scary point right now where we either break big or we fail. This is our last chance. If we can succeed on this tour and sell records, as limited as we are where stage production is concerned, then we know that next year we’ll be happening.”

THE ROOTS OF ROCK,

PART ONE

DON: “That’s hard because we have a lot of different influences. Me as a singer, it’s probably Ian Gillan, Dio, Rob Halford, stuff like that. Judas Priest were a big influence at one point. I actually listened to their albums before they were famous. We used to play their songs before they were famous.”

CREEM: / thought ‘‘Breaking The Chains” was a little reminiscent of Free.

JEFF: “Well, that’s interesting. That’s a great compliment!”

DON: “I don’t remember what they sound like.”

THE RATT PACK

DON: “I personally feel that Ratt was influenced somewhat by this group. What I saw of Ratt before was a lot different. But when their album came out, there was a big change.”

GEORGE: “They were definitely going for the same niche in rock that we were aiming for—the heavy melodic stuff.”

JEFF: “But I think we write a little bit more outside. They pretty much stick to a little formula thing. We’ve pushed the boundaries a little more.”

CREEM: How about Motley Crue?

DON: “Well, I don’t think their musical peers are in awe of them.”

JEFF: “But what they’re doing, they do really well. They’re pulling it off, and I think there’s more brains behind them than you might expect.”

DON: “Twenty years from now, if you’re a successful band, I don’t think the Motley Crue thing will come up as a heavy influence as far as musical direction is concerned.”

JEFF: “Although I personally think that Nikki is a very good writer. And I think there is some thought behind what they’re doing—which is going to give them some longevity.”

THANK HEAVEN FOR LITTLE GIRLS

I get a little depressed when we get letters at CREEM from 13-year-old girls who want to play “spin the bottle” with Motley Crue. Still, I realize everyone has their private fantasies, and being on the road with Dokken has made me change my mind just a bit on groupies and the sexism in heavy metal issue. Of course, Dokken don’t insert bottles into private parts (at least they don’t publicize it) nor do they “murder” a woman onstage like W.A.S.P., but even though they’re not genuine stars yet, their fans treat them as such. There are always fans surrounding them at the bus for autographs and conversation (A headbanger to George: “I met Randy Rhoads’s mom!” He’p!)—and there are always a lot of girls (read: “goop gobblers,” “hose monsters,” “receptacles”) around who want a little something extra to remember the band by, if you catch my drift.

All it really takes is a “Hi. I like you. You wore nice pants onstage tonight”—and a meaningful relationship is born. Of course, I suppose that “freedom” means the freedom to do whatever you want as long as you don’t hurt anybody, and no one seems to be particularly unhappy on either end after these events unfold. And I do realize that this sort of thing has been going on for years. Still, if I had a daughter, I probably wouldn’t want her on a Dokken tour bus, but then I’m not even married, so what the hell.

“If I had my way, you know who I’d elect for President? Ronnie James Dio!!’ -Don Dokken

So what am I supposed to do when the guys bring two “Halloween Monsters” on the bus, tell them I’m from CREEM, and say the girls can be in the magazine if they’ll just show us their tits? Stand up and scream: “Wait a minute! You’re exploiting these young girls who seem to have little respect for themselves”? And what am I supposed to do when a Dokken member grabs my hand and tries to place it on the exposed flesh of one of the aforesaid “Halloween Monsters”?

“You’re supposed to squeeze hard, Bill!”

HE’P!

THE ROOTS OF ROCK, PART TWO

I’m sitting in front of the bus with some crewmembers and George Geranios, Dokken’s soundman who spent years on the road with Blue Oyster Cult and recently completed a tour with Herbie Hancock. Someone is being “serviced” in the back of the bus. We can hear them. George begins to sing “True love, true love” from the old Drifters song. For some reason, I find this rather amusing.

WITHOUT ’EM WHAT WOULD LITTLE BOYS DO?

I’m standing near a large platform which will be placed onstage and on which Mick Brown will play his drums tonight. An old geezer—old enough to be my dad—who works at the arena is also standing there. “This is for the striptease tonight,” he says, smiling. “This is where the girls are going to take off their clothes. Wait ’till they get those girls backstage. We’ll all get naked!”

(He’p!)

THE FUTURE

DON: “We want to have a multi-platinum album, so we can make more records. And I think our big goal is not to have to be a supporting act next year. We want to be a headliner.”

JEFF: “We want to be a classic band that writes classic songs that you’ll know 20 years from now when you hear it in an elevator.”

GEORGE: “Yeah, stuff you can turn into muzak.”

JEFF: “We want to be a supergroup that’s part of the ’80s culture.”

THE ROOTS OF ROCK, PART THREE

It’s several hours before showtime, and I’m sitting in Dokken’s dressing room where Jeff and Mick are goofing around with guitars, not their usual instruments. They sing a great version of the Stones’ “The Last Time,” and then proceed to do a series of Beatle originals and cover tunes— “Twist & Shout,” “A Hard Day’s Night,” “Slow Down,” “8 Days A Week,” “He’p!” (/ think that’s “Help!’’—Ed.), “Mr. Moonlight”—and they culminate it all with a rendition of the Troggs’ “Wild Thing.” This is no Spinal Tap singing “Heartbreak Hotel” at Elvis’s grave. There is genuine reverence and feeling on display here, and these guys are really enjoying themselves. Their vocal harmonies are wonderful, and the playing is superb. “Someday we’re going to do an album of Lennon/McCartney tunes,” laughs Jeff. I’m a mite surprised, but very, very impressed.

DON DOKKEN ON POLITICS IN ROCK

“I don’t want to get involved.”

THE SONG REMAINS THE SAME

CREEM: Do you think that heavy metal can keep “evolving” indefinitely?

TURN TO PAGE 60

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 30

DON: “It’s always been there, and it’ll always be here. I mean, Deep Purple came out in the ’70s, Hendrix in the ’60s. I mean, it ain’t going away. The people who say rock’s over when the trends come by, those are the ones that are getting old.”

JEFF: "And they’ve been saying that since 1972 after Led Zeppelin IV. ‘Well, that’s it. No more heavy metal. No more hard rock.’ ”

DON: “They say it every five years because they get burned out. They’re tired of writing about rock, so they say let’s write about something else. Let’s change the trends.”

GEORGE: “Those arty critics. I mean, fuck them.”

JEFF: “They’re all frustrated musicians, but they’re not the kid on the streets, and the kids will always want it. And I don’t think audiences are as dumb today as people think.”

DON: “They’ve been getting laid since they were 12. They’re more hip.”

JEFF: “Yeah, they’re smarter and streetwise—the whole bit.”

DON: “Critics don’t seem to realize that the generation changes every five years. The 10-year-old becomes 15 who becomes 20. When he turns 20, the one who was five is 10, and he’s just learning about rock. So you’ve got a whole fresh, brand new audience.”

JEFF: “Just look at how much it’s evolved in the last couple of years now. Hard rock songwriting has really improved. Bands like Ratt, us—even the Motleys to a certain extent—have really improved the songwriting quality. (He'p!) And it’s probably only going to get better. All these kids who are 15 are learning about rock from us, where it evolved since the days of Deep Purple or the Led Zeppelins or whatever. Everybody’s going to make that improvement from generation to generation.”

DON: “People who get burned out on rock are just the ones that grow up, and hopefully we’ll never grow up.”

BONUS HE’P!

Black cabdriver taking me to the Washington airport the following morning: “Mondale didn’t stand a chance against Reagan. He blew it when he chose Ferraro. Ain’t no woman ever going to make it to the White House.”

Damn straight, I tell him. Best we keep ’em where they belong, and away from nuclear missiles and those other gallant symbols of phallic superiority.