The tune is a '59 hit from the Skyliners, but I prefer the version Peter Weller (ROBOCOP) performed in The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eight Dimension. The film is just as breathtaking as the title lets in, btw.

I wonder if Axl ever saw the film and caught up with the song from that. Could be, it was right down his alley in 1984.

Getting back to the video, it's an interesting piece in a puzzle, really. It's overwhelmingly overlooked for a start. Sure, it's not a great one. But it's more narrative than the random compilations like The Garden; it's actually a step down on the line from Estranged as far the overarching story arc of Guns is coming together in Axl's mind.

The single was out in late May '94, according to a Gilby interview. The Interwebs date the release to 1993, so SIDHY (yes, that's the abbreviation) actually opens a window to the band as it was in the Sympathy era.

There's an apparently highly coked-up Gary Oldman as the Devil. He's driving an Axl wearing an ill-advised cowboy hat. The Devil's curious about everything but the wheel. He bails off. Axl makes for the wheel, as if the Devil not driving was a bad thing.

The car is later found on the shore. The band's there, Duff's having the mandatory drink and some sun, while Matt's playing in the water. Gilby has been given the short shrift, he gets kitchen duty. Dizzy is either fishing ineptly, or trying to save Axl by constantly throwing the net into the sea. It's never suggested that the others are overtly concerned over the events; Matt even breaks the fourth wall by greeting the audience.

Axl is tied up, as we see him. Slash, the other main principle, is absent from the beach party. He's playing guitar in Satan's boat, while the Ol' Iniquity rows him up what seems like Styx. While most band members (aside the hapless Dizzy) are indifferent to Axl's plight, Slash is literally playing Devil's advocate.

Forgive them that teared down my soul...

Are those French horns?

Axl's being roasted. He's all tied up. The beach party continues. Dizzy's either frustrated by the lack of fish or increasingly concerned of Axl. Hard to say. The rest give as much a damn as they always do.

A noteworthy part is that Axl (and Slash) could've technically worked on separate days from the rest of the band. For Duff, Matt and Dizzy it was a one-day gig, Slash came out to do his bits with Gary Oldman. Axl did a scene with Oldman, but aside his turmoil shots, he's mainly seen making out with Jennifer Driver.

We get to see Axl in the car again.

The car does go off the cliff.

But there's only Axl there.

Axl's submerging. He seems really into doing underwater shots in videos. This is Estranged, sans the dolphins.

He cuts loose and breaks a smile.

"all the chains, we have together"

Axl was tricked by the Devil to run the car off the cliff, Slash played a helping hand there. Duff, Matt and Gilby were into the rock n' roll life, they could care less about the car or Axl. The car are Guns, and the only one doing his bit next to it is Dizzy, motivated by reasons he appears to struggle to comprehend.

What the video does allude to is that Axl felt alienated from everyone and a complete separation from the band was what he was after. As he turns upwards, there is relief, as the Guns are off his back and he is no longer bound by them. The storm hadn't brought him down, yet.

But he was certainly drifting all alone like Madagascar when it separated from India.

October '94.

The end of days was at hand for Slash and Axl.

The fight was over those 3-4 Snakepit demos Slash had recorded with Matt early into the year. He'd intended them for the next Guns album, so he had Gilby redo the rhythm parts. Duff was still touring behind his solo album, Believe in Me, so Mike Inez from Alice in Chains helped out. All was good except for the fact that Axl dragged his feet. Axl didn't see the whole Southern Rock aspect as a predominant part of the next Guns album, which he was envisioning to be... well, a lot of things.

Axl wanted This I Love in there. That song, demoed during the UYI tours, made Slash's skin crawl. Another Stephanie Seymour ballad, he sighed. More progress had been made on the preproduction of Axl's solo album, and since nothing else was coming together, Axl felt it was a stroke of genius to merge the project with the Guns album. Slash was abhorred - now Axl was giving him that Pearl Jam ticket. Things had just gone from bad to worse.

The Snakepit demos had been an earnest effort to get Guns' musical direction back to their gritty club days, towards the magic of Appetite. Following the fortunes of the yesteryears, Slash had enjoyed the luxury of a personal recording studio; the ability to do what he wanted, when he wanted, and most importantly, how he wanted. The demos were his bargaining chip to get away from sobby ballads and Pearl Jam influences, and he wasn't going to let it slide.

Axl scoffed most of the demos, but expressed interest in the chosen few. Slash made his stand; no changes. Guns would do them as is, because Slash felt they represented the purity of the vintage Guns material. Like AFD, or the instrumentals of the UYI tracks. Before Axl put on layers and layers of production. If these songs would indeed make the cut, Slash was ready to fight tooth and nail for his original intentions with them. It wasn't as much the songs as it was about principle: he was fed up with Axl now getting his way with everything, all the time.

There had been the Gilby situation. They had all gone to a room to write as a band. It was tricky, though. There were issues that had gone unresolved for the past few years. The shadows of Izzy and Steven loomed large over them. Duff's health was getting iffy. After some awkward moments, the songs began to trickle. A riff here, another there. Alas, Gilby had to soldier through the look he would get at any given time. 'Where's Izzy?' It all finally caught up with him and he lashed out at Slash. The sessions were over, right there and then.

Gilby had commitments by then. He had a solo album deal with Virgin, outside of the Geffen contract, which contained the recording agreements of founding Guns members. His album was in the can, he had a backing band ready to hit the road for the remainder of the year. He'd played his hand, knowing they might not call him back. They wouldn't. Gilby had lost the backing of Slash, the one founding member who'd championed him thus far. The writing sessions had failed to set the band on fire. Axl had a reason to have it his way.

There had been the Duff situation. After those sessions with Gilby, he'd gone off to Seattle to pass the time, like he'd done so often after coming back from tour. On April Fools Day, he flew alongside Kurt Cobain. Cobain was dead in a week. A month from that, Duff nearly joined him - his pancreas had its well-publicized swell, which changed his life. No more hard drinking with Slash and Matt, but mountain biking and healthy eating with Axl. Duff was now Axl's confidant and right-hand man on musical direction.

Throughout all this, the haggling over those 3-4 demos went on. This was standard practice with Guns. Everybody else recorded their stuff and presented the demos, Axl picked the ones he wanted to sing on. The rest were scrapped, no exceptions. Duff, as well as Izzy with the JuJu Hounds album, had set a precedent: they could record outside the Guns moniker, and get away with it. Slash wanted the songs out in a certain style. He set out to prove Axl and Duff a Southern Rock album would do, and pressed REC.

And it turned into a big fight.

Axl felt had. Those 3-4 demos, which he felt were in the running for the next Guns album, were now gone. Slash had vetoed his contributions without notice. Unsurprisingly, Axl immediately felt like suing Slash for breach of contract or whatever his lawyers could concote. But Slash had written and recorded the demos in his own basement, on his own time. There was no case, as he'd never signed the demos off to Guns in the first place. Slash had changed the rules of the game and Axl was not about to conform quietly.

In less than a year, Axl would make damn sure the Snakepit situation would never be repeated. All the while, he was spending more time with his legal, battling his ex-wives, than with his band, writing the next album. The lawyers would recommend a coup d'etat; leave the Guns partnership, own up the name and have everyone else on the payroll. It was within the existing recording agreement - he could get away with it. And he did, although his legal failed to underline he'd still have to work with those very people.

A more immediate ripple would occur before that, tho. David Geffen, the head of Geffen Records, was involved in producing the big-budget Tom Cruise/Brad Pitt vehicle, Interview with a Vampire. They were a month away from release, and there was some conundrum over the song during the end credits. Given the subject matter, Jay Aston from the goth band Gene Loves Jezebel had been commissioned an entry. It was scrapped in favor of the Stones' Sympathy for the Devil. But that version was an old hat and the financial pressure was there. Someone said, 'Well, Guns are on the label'.

A&R Man Tom Zutaut began grooming Guns to humor the label. Slash, a horror movie buff, went into a screening first. He hated the film and told Zoot they would be better off by going with the Stones cover. Zoot must've had sweaty palms the following night as Axl sat in an otherwise (naturally) vacant theatre. What Axl saw was probably similar to what he'd had going in the Guns videos since Don't Cry, a man doomed to traverse in and out of mortal coil for reasons unbeknownst to him. Slick, long-haired immortals likely struck a chord and Axl said yes.

Slash thought, fine. At least, they'd all get into a room and work on it, together. Only that Axl was sore over the Snakepit demos and was likely plotting their Devil version as an audial precursor for the new album. That's why only Slash, Matt and Duff attended the instrumental sessions. Slash did a revisionist solo for their version, he wanted it to carry the Guns signature. Axl was decidedly avoiding Slash and told through some middle men that the guitar solo needed to be more like Keith Richards. Moreover, note to note Richards.

Slash complied, irked. He wanted to talk to Axl and stormed into the vocal session. Axl shunned him. Slash left, feeling despodent. Axl did his vocals in varying pitches and mixed several takes together into the end result. Then, he did what could be seen as an immediate revenge over the Snakepit demos, and equally unheard of in Guns history: He tampered with Slash's guitar solo.

When the November Rain mix was on the table some years prior, engineers would later recall stories of how Axl would come up to Slash and, very politely, ask for a specific lick to be a bit louder. Axl went out of his way to personally inform Slash of the slightest alteration and Slash would have final say on mixing his own parts, anyway. When Slash put on the final mix of their Devil cover, he would've assumed the old gentlemen's agreement was still intact.

By the time he got to the solo, Slash was irate. There was another guitar, another guitar player. Axl had smuggled in his old Indiana friend Paul Huge to do a louder tune version of the Richards solo, and inserted it underneath Slash's solo. It was an imitation of call and response, a studio trick pulled to fatten up the sound without straying too far from the original Stones version. Axl had been studying this sort of modernization of sound for some time and was curious to see if it would big Slash's guitar up.

Above: Hear the infamous Paul Huge contributions.

And it turned into a big fight.

Slash felt had. While Huge had been merely Axl's underling and playing the good soldier, in Slash's mind, he grew to encompass all that had gone wrong between Slash and Axl during the past year. Had it been different for the band if another guitar player would've done the Devil session with Axl, or if Slash would've put those 3-4 demos aside while recording Snakepit, we'll never know. What's more certain is the band fell apart in slow motion over a period of years, due to the fragile egos of two men who successively shunned one another instead of mulling over their problems.

20 years later, rumors are abound that they may mend fences sometime in the future.