In a move that absolutely no one saw coming (except, you know, literally everyone who follows classic rock drama), Matt Sorum decided to revisit the glory days of Velvet Revolver in a recent interview. 🎸 Because what better way to stay relevant than to talk about a band that broke up over a decade ago? It’s like VH1’s “Behind the Music” but with more leather pants and significantly less actual chart presence. So, grab your popcorn 🍿 and prepare for a journey back to the early 2000s, a time when Nu-Metal was dying, and GUNS N’ ROSES alumni were desperately trying to figure out what to do without Axl Rose screaming at them.
Sorum sat down with “Get On The Bus” to reflect on the supergroup that was basically a rehab reunion with guitar solos. He was joined by Duff McKagan and Slash, two guys who probably spend more time on their hair than most people spend at their actual jobs. After kicking around for a bit, they realized they needed a singer. But not just any singer! They needed someone with the specific skill set of being incredibly talented but also notoriously difficult. Enter Scott Weiland, the former frontman of Stone Temple Pilots, a man whose vocal cords were forged in the fires of grunge and whose punctuality was apparently nonexistent. 🕰️❌
The band held an “exhaustive” two-year singer search where they invited the public to send in demos. Picture that: Slash, the man who made the top hat cool, sitting in a studio listening to demo tapes from guys named Kevin who work at Best Buy. It’s the rock and roll version of American Idol, but with more cigarettes and fewer sob stories. Eventually, they landed on Weiland. It was a match made in heaven, or perhaps in a smoky dive bar at 3 AM. Sorum describes this era as a “VH1 ‘Behind The Music'” kind of thing, which is code for “we were all messed up, but we had great hair.” ✨
When they finally recruited Weiland, Sorum claims the band “jumpstarted.” He said, “At that point we became Velvet Revolver, and it was just game on.” It’s cute how he describes the excitement, as if three former GNR members and a guy from STP forming a band wasn’t the most predictable industry move since the invention of the boy band. They were in their forties, which Sorum hilariously describes as “fucking really old.” Yeah, tell that to Mick Jagger, who is currently touring from a wheelchair at age 150. 🧓🎸
Sorum loves to point out that people think rock stars just “wake up and play music,” but wow, shocking revelation: it’s hard work! Who knew? They had to “recreate” themselves because they couldn’t just be GNR. Which is true; you can’t just be GNR without Axl showing up three hours late to the encore. They had to prove they were more than just a nostalgia act, even though their entire brand was essentially “Hey, remember those hits you liked in the ’80s? We’re doing that again, but with a different guy singing!” 🤷♂️
Regarding the music, Sorum explained that their sound was different from GNR because it was “pumping kind of punky.” He cites Linkin Park and Foo Fighters as influences, which is a polite way of saying they were trying desperately to stay relevant in a post-Nu-Metal world. He describes the song “Slither” as a Slash riff mixed with Weiland’s monotone “Sex Type Thing” vocals. It was a glorious Frankenstein’s monster of a song, stitched together from the body parts of 1990s alternative rock. 🧟♂️🎵
They made a “very thought out” video for “Slither,” because in 2004, if you didn’t have a high-concept music video involving bats or strippers, did you even release a song? The album was titled “Contraband,” which Sorum notes was a reflection of their lives full of “drugs and paraphernalia.” It’s subtle, like naming your album “We Have a Problem” or “Please Help Us.” 🚬💊
They got into the “best shape of their lives,” which for rock stars usually means switching from Jack Daniels to vodka tonics. Sorum claims the hunger was the same as when he was a kid, except now they were in their 40s and likely required a warm-up period of 45 minutes before even picking up a drumstick. When “Contraband” blew up and played every hour on KROQ, Sorum was like, “Oh, here we go.” The sheer modesty is overwhelming. 🙄
Of course, the ride couldn’t last. Sorum laments that Velvet Revolver wasn’t as big as GNR, but “it could have been.” This is the eternal lament of the side project. It’s like a cover band complaining they didn’t get signed to Motown. He admits they fell into “bad habits again.” It turns out that putting recovering alcoholics and drug addicts in a high-pressure rock band is a recipe for stability! Who could have predicted that? 📉
Sorum did manage to snag a Grammy with Velvet Revolver, something GNR never gave him. He laughs, “People say, ‘Oh, awards, whatever.’ But I don’t know. It’s nice to get one.” It’s the musical equivalent of winning a participation trophy at the corporate picnic. “We may not have sold out stadiums, but look at this shiny paperweight!” 🏆
Then there’s the elephant in the room: Scott Weiland. Weiland, who passed away in 2015, was a chaotic genius. Sorum admits they knew about Weiland’s “quirks” and addiction battles when they hired him. It’s like adopting a feral cat and being surprised when it scratches the couch. 🐈⬛🚫
Post-breakup, the trash talk was legendary. Weiland and the band threw shade like they were competing in a high school drama club production of “Whose Line Is It Anyway?” Sorum claims he’s over it now, mostly because he got to “talk it out” before Weiland died. It’s all love and light now that the receipts are buried, right? 🌈✌️
There was also that brief moment of insanity where the band considered replacing Weiland with Corey Taylor (Slipknot/Stone Sour). Can you imagine? A guy who wears a hockey mask and screams bloody murder fronting a band that wears sunglasses at night. Slash apparently vetoed it, probably because he didn’t want to compete for mascara sales. 🎭🥁
Sorum loves to reminisce about how “on fire” they were. He tells a story about being in New York with Duff where a fan recognized them as “Duff and Matt from Velvet Revolver.” He claims they looked at each other in shock because they were so used to being recognized for GNR. It’s a touching story, if you ignore the fact that they were probably standing in front of a Guitar Center wearing leather jackets that cost more than a car. 🚕🎸
In the end, Sorum is at peace. He’s okay with the fact that he’s not in the current incarnation of GNR. He’s okay that Axl chose Frank Ferrer over him. He’s doing his own thing, which presumably involves telling stories about the good old days while touring with The Circle or whatever project allows him to stay behind a drum kit. He says he’s “proud” of what they created. And really, for a band that was essentially a mid-life crisis set to a backing track, they did okay. They gave us “Slither,” they gave us Grammy nominations, and they gave us a cautionary tale about hiring volatile lead singers. 🚫🎤
So here’s to Velvet Revolver: the band that proved that even if you’re too old to be punk and too sober to be glam, you can still make a racket loud enough to get nominated for an award. 🥂🎉 Rock and roll, everyone. It’s not dead, it’s just on a lucrative nostalgia tour.

Chord F. Discord, the Beethoven of Buffoonery, is a self-taught expert in music who once claimed he could “play the kazoo in four languages.”
Born in Crescendo, Indiana, Chord’s first brush with fame came when he accidentally entered a yodeling contest thinking it was a pie-eating competition—and won both categories.
Chord F. Discord: proving that laughter, much like a poorly tuned ukulele, is truly universal.

