The last tour New American Shame embarked on before the band's premature retirement was playing the opening slot for headliners Megadeth and main support band Static X on a week's worth of shows in the Midwest.  None of us were huge fans of either band, but we were certainly thankful to continue to receive invitations to play with bands that were heroes to many.

Dave Mustaine's might be the most successful horror story in rock ‘n' roll history. After getting the axe from Metallica, he could have easily ended up a Pete Best or Jon Rutsey, or more likely Doug Hopkins (of the Gin Blossoms who wrote all the hits, was ousted, and ended up committing suicide). But he put together his own band and has had a more than respectable career.

That being said, I've only been dumped by one girl that broke my heart. I was 19 years old. I was destroyed. I can't feel the hurt anymore, but I sure as shit remember how overwhelming it was. That girl and that hurt still haunt, and partially shape me to this day... and she didn't go on to become Metallica. I can't even imagine what being in that shadow has been like. 

On the first night of our stint with Megadeth, before we had all met Dave, he walked by our dressing room and spied my then girlfriend. It turned out she was someone from his drinking days he needed to make amends to. It was a strange coincidence.  It didn't really help or hurt us either way, but being around Dave never got to be comfortable or easy. There was an aggressively relaxed intensity to him. He wore a habitually furrowed posture like a favorite shirt that was no longer in style with his sober surroundings. 

For all of the crazy shit we had all heard about Dave Mustaine, he turned out to be a pretty nice guy, often going out of his way to pitch us some face time. On these occasions, "we" didn't always leave him with the best impression. 

There is always one guy in every band who, without fail, will inadvertently do or say something that comes across wrong whenever someone famous comes around. Or, worse yet, something that threatens said famous person's physical safety (see Wednesday Reading, "Meeting Zak Wylde in Japan" part 3).

In New American Shame, that man was Jimmy Paulson.

Once, before playing an opening slot at the House of Blues in Chicago for Staind and Kid Rock, Jimmy was having the chance of a lifetime photo-op with the Kid him self.  A faulty disposable camera (remember those?) kept him from getting the shot, and in an overt act of coolness he threw the thing to the ground.  As is the nature of being Jimmy Paulson, the camera decided to have the last laugh by breaking into projectiles that flew off into different directions - one of them whizzing up and just missing Kid Rock's face. The moment had passed. Instead of an amazing self-portrait with the Kid, Jimmy was left with just Mr. Rock's smirking look as he walked away. If anything, it was a look that said, "calm DOWN, Beavis!"

After a few of these things happen in a row - at Jimmy's expense - you start anticipating them. Your fate, as a band with Jimmy in it, is pre-determinedly sealed.

The first night Dave actually stopped by our open door to make small talk, Jimmy and Kelly were in the room. It was in Toronto, a place always known for its world-class beauties. Dave asked if we'd been out front to see if the city's reputation was holding true. Jimmy tried to respond with something about there being so many knockouts he was sure there must be a modeling agency nearby. 

Not being known to stutter, but certainly sweating this first encounter with the guy who was currently signing our checks, Jimmy got hung up on the word "modeling," and what he offered up was more like, "Yeah, man. There's so many there mus-be a ma-ma-ma-mod, ma-modl ma ma mod, ma ma mod ma modeling agency around here".

Dave eyed Jimmy up and down and then just walked away.  After Dave was out of ear shot, Jimmy - knowing his curse had yet to lift - dead panned, "I think that went well. ..."  

On the last night of our stint, Mr. Mustaine stuck his head into our dressing room after our set. He told us he liked to give all his opening bands his thoughts about them, if we wanted to hear them.

"...Uhhhh, yeahhh sure, Dave. You mean like constructive criticism type stuff?" 

First (and only) stipulation? Band only, Dave said. The five of us exchanged 98 percent stifled smirks with our sound guy, tour manager and tag-a-long friend, as they shuffled themselves, disappointedly, past Dave (still occupying the doorway) and out of the room.

Dave came in and made an uncomfortable looking perch on the arm of a couch. It was hard to keep a straight face. Not out of disrespect. He was basically a cool guy, but his personality seemed to be fueled almost entirely by a world-class ego, and he took himself very seriously. It was easy to see how abrasively presumptive and aggressively confrontational he must have been as heavy drinker.

We could sense how epic (one way or the other) the knowledge Dave was about to drop would be. This wasn't some hack second guitar player for Alien Crime Syndicate bragging about being on the radio for the third time. Or some cheese-dick drummer from Super Deluxe waxing on about how the band's record was going to be the new White Album. This was Dave Mustaine. One of the all time greatest, world-class assholes of his day. This guy got kicked out of Metallica for being too surly a drunk. That's like Steven Adler getting kicked out of GNR for being too fucked up. But Dave is also one of the most shreddingest metal guys of all time - very right brained. He has had years to think it all through, and whatever was forthcoming seemed like it was definitely going to be DEEP.

He started off by saying he thought we were a great young rock band, and that if it was up to him, he would much rather have us on the main support slot than Static X. It was a very nice thing to hear. Next he said we needed to let our singer make a connection with the audience. Dave noted that when performing live he used to introduce and count off all the songs in Metallica, because James (HETFIELD!!!!) was too shy to do it himself. It struck me that it must be a depressingly amazing thing to say - that you were once the driving force onstage for Metallica.

For some reason New American Shame had gotten into the same habit - with Jimmy doing a majority of the between song banter. Dave told us the singer sings the words, so the crowd has to make a connection with HIM. That seemed like pretty good advice. 

Then he started talking about the performance itself. The set order. Pacing.

"Look at Stone Temple Pilots," he told us. "When they came out on tour with me, they came across all confused, nothing was happening for them. I told them to put that song with the bull horn in the opening slot, and look at ‘em now." 

He continued, "You know, I had this black roommate once. He taught me about fucking chicks. He told me, 'Dave, don't come to quick, ya gotta save somethin' for the end.' I always remembered that, and ya know a set list is the same way. Ya gotta save something for the end. It's just like the Nike swoosh. It starts skinny, gets fat and then ends pointy, shooting off higher than it started. Because ya know, Nike MEANS victory. Nike IS Latin for victory. So, just try-n make your set like the Nike swoosh."

It was so much more than we ever could have dreamt of - further proving truth is stranger than fiction.

Drummer Geoff Reading - who writes a bi-weekly online column (Fridays) for the Weekly Volcano called "Holding Down the 253" in addition to his weekly Wednesday music column - has played music in tons of Northwest bands - Green Apple Quick Step, New American Shame, Top Heavy Crush and most recently Duff McKagan's LOADED - to name but a few. He's toured the world several times over, sharing stages with the likes of Slipknot, The Cult, Buckcherry, Korn, Journey, The Sex Pistols, Nine Inch Nails and on and on. He has called Tacoma home since 2005, and lives in the North End with his wife and son.