“Maybe we stayed around so long we outlasted all the bullshit,” Scott Ian philosophizes near the end of his new autobiography, I’m The Man: The Story Of That Guy From Anthrax. “We outlasted everything, and now we were considered a legendary band – members of the Big 4.”
No one is a bigger fan of Anthrax than it’s goateed guitar player and founder Scott Ian. He loves this band. And I mean he fucking loves this band. He never let anything tear it apart – not egotistical lead singers like Neil Turbin who thought the band would die without him (“I’m the only reason this band’s done anything”); not unsupportive record labels; not infighting or injuries or alcohol. Ian stayed predominately sober through the band’s early years to keep it floating with smart decisions (his boys-will-be-boys wild streak would come much later) and propel it so far they were on an even keel with Metallica and Megadeth. Having Anthrax succeed and survive has been one of Ian’s proudest accomplishments.
If you know anything about Scott Ian you know he has a wickedly funny sense of humor and he can deadpan like no one else. Therefore, you would think his written tome would be filled with zingers, and he does get off some good ones; but his main priority is telling his band’s story, creaks and cracks and all. “Everything is better if you have to sweat a little bit for it,” he proudly states in his acknowledgement of the fans. “Thanks for sweating with me.”
Ian himself started out as a fan. His parents had music like Carole King and Simon & Garfunkel in their collection, but it was his Uncle Mitchell who held the golden treasure. He had Black Sabbath AND cool comic books. Ian would go on to like Disco (!!) when it was booming in the seventies: “The grooves were great, the guitar lines were funky and immediate, and the beats made you want to shake your ass.” Except, “I fuckin’ hated dancing. The idea of doing the boogie all night long was about as appealing to me as a root canal.” But he had KISS. After seeing the band at Madison Square Garden at the end of 1977, his fate was sealed. “I wanted to do what those guys were doing.”
Ian goes on to tell the story of Anthrax for over three hundred pages. He explains that getting Joey Belladonna into the band “was initially a blessing – but eventually became a curse” due to the singer’s lack of songwriting contributions. He looks back with extreme shock and sadness at the death of friend Cliff Burton. Anthrax was actually on tour with Metallica when the headliner’s bus crashed. “Normally, we’d stick around when they finished, leave at the same time, and head to the next city.” But because of the weather conditions, they decided to leave early. When they pulled into Copenhagen, they were hit with the news of Burton’s death and stayed on to console a distraught James Hetfield. “When you’re in this tour bubble and things are going great, you feel invincible,” Ian writes. “Something like this happening was out of the realm of possibility.”
Ian doesn’t keep his own shenanigans hidden: trying to steal the Yankees on-deck circle in Florida after drinking and sneaking into their spring-training park and getting arrested; having a shroom-fueled freakout and almost killing himself twice on the same night; marrying someone he no longer loved and partaking in the pleasures of the road because of it; enlisting Dimebag Darrell to get him tour ready for their trek with Pantera by having him teach him how to really drink; and finally finding true love with the daughter of Meatloaf and becoming a father.
With I’m The Man, Ian has built a solid home for the band’s history. I’m sure others will have their own stories to tell but Ian has written this without a bone to pick with anyone. He talks straight, never fails to lay blame on himself for certain actions, and comes across as nothing but honest. As well as the ultimate Anthrax fan.
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