W. Axl Rose: Where He is Today?

Born William Bruce Rose but raised as Bill Bailey in Lafayette, Indiana, W. Axl Rose is easily one of the most controversial, oft-discussed living frontmen in rock n' roll. With his distinguishable array of voices, ranging from the high-pitched nasal scream akin to a cat with its tail caught in a garage door to the low, sultry growl you wouldn't want to hear in the depths of a dark alley (or who knows, maybe you would), Rose began to wow us officially in July of 1987 when Appetite for Destruction was released and is, to this day, the statistics-confirmed best selling debut album of all time.

He began his critic-grating antics early on: requesting a lavish spread of courtesies via tour rider that outnumbered that of the rest of the band's list, leaving his friends with their instruments and a crowd at the ready while he took an impromptu trip to France. Blowing off shows to sit and play blackjack in Finland surrounded by the country's prettier blondes, effectively banning his band from several cities including but not limited to St. Louis, Missouri, where he ignited a full-scale riot over a simple matter of a biker wanting to take a couple of pictures. The list, by the way, does go on. In the late nineties, Axl Rose disappeared from the public eye and, with the occasional sighting by a fan always conveniently sans camera, his name became the stuff of legend. Say those three words (don't forget the W!) at around that time and there was a high chance you'd be greeted with a barrage of gossip and 'friend of a friend of a friend' experiences all surrounding the elusive vocalist, who didn't make a public reemergence until the travesty that was the Video Music Awards of 2002.

Rose had, it appeared, taken the years between 98 and 02 to gain forty pounds, acquire an unfortunate weave, and self-administer a syringe full of collagen to the face to achieve that sought-after freshly fried egg appearance. During those same years he kicked his former bandmates to the curb and hired on the makings of a glorified cover band. The entire world watched in abject horror as a six foot tall creature with plaster mask, and KFC bucket for a hat fumbled through the motions of Slash's guitar solos and Axl, in sports jersey and leather cargo pants, failed to hit every last note - even on spoken word. He disappeared shortly thereafter, still without a sign of his years-procrastinated-on album, Chinese Democracy, save for the songs he had shopped to an audience of thousands during the VMA set. He didn't resurface until even the most devoted Guns N' Roses fans had begun giving up hope.

Four years later, in 2006, Rose proved to us all that he had been severely underestimated. Showing up briefly and, in true rockstar fashion, after midnight and only for long enough to drink himself stupid, he attended a publicized event in better clothes, better braids, and a wiry orange goatee that reminded us yes, once upon a time, the man could grow his own hair. The collagen had shifted, or possibly been removed altogether, but either way: Axl looked like Axl. With a world tour that stretched through the rest of that year and into 2007 involving a few cancelled shows, a lot of belligerence and an unfortunate but forever memorable incident in Sweden where he wound up biting a security guard on the thigh, it seemed that Axl was behaving like Axl, too.

A handful of tracks from the eternally upcoming album were leaked to the internet and the world exploded - sometimes with outrage that anything involving human beings handling sensitive material could ever go awry, sometimes with wondrous joy that this new incarnation of Guns N' Roses still rocked people's faces clean off. Ranging from faster paced, tell-it-like-it-is numbers like 'IRS' to the slower, heart-wrenching swan song of 'There Was A Time', it looked like Axl Rose was back in business - and his new troupe of musicians could handle the old songs just as well as any of the old characters. Under the watchful eye of both people who supported him unconditionally to those who paid the admittedly high ticket prices simply to shout questions about choice members of Velvet Revolver and chuck bottles toward the stage, Rose grew into himself and hit his stride late into the tour: he was composed and eloquent, but still had that unmistakable combination of country charm and heart of the city sleaze. Basically, he was everything he always was, only a grounded forty-five (then forty-four) years of age.

Gone are the days where people asked, 'Where did you go, Axl Rose?' Leaves turned over, we've entered into the era of 'What will you do next, Axl Rose?' - and while the immediate answer to that might not be Chinese Democracy come Christmas, fans and skeptics alike can look forward to music, headlines and classic, rousing shows from a dazzling frontman who realizes that, above else, some of us never left the Jungle.