🔗 Share this article

When Roddy Bottum embarked on developing his impressive autobiography The Royal We, the musician from Faith No More had a specific goal of the kind of book he aimed to avoid. “Those with photo inserts in the center,” he notes, in a video call from Oxnard, California, where he is completing a new album with his band Imperial Teen. “I have little interest in rock memoirs – they tend to be cliché, full of name-dropping, and low on literary merit.”

The Royal We avoids being name-droppy – Bottum leaves out the surnames of his bandmates. And while he describes the team’s early days and initial growth, this is secondary to his “adventures as a young person” in San Francisco, “in an era pre-internet, when the city was still untouched.” Much of the emphasis is on his sexual awakening, and how the related secrecy and shame have influenced his life. “As a teenager, at 13 or 14, I began intimate encounters with men,” he states. “It was deeply forbidden, and that defined my life’s path.” In the memoir, incidents involving his seeking encounters in restrooms and parks as a teenager are narrated unflinchingly and unapologetically. “Intimate moments occurred with older men in outdoor hideaways,” he notes. “Initially with shame, later with pride. Get lost.”

“When I do readings, I start with that section,” he declares. “I am aware of the shock value in those words; it’s highly improper. But I have no regret. In the era of Trump, my story must be proclaimed, to combat the racism, the anti-trans and anti-gay attitudes.” He stops. “I aim to stir controversy. Some of my family members are devout Christians, and I fully plan to disrupt their holiday meal with this publication. Since they will inevitably read it.”

The memoir starts on the teenage Bottum relocating from his home Los Angeles. “San Francisco offered a sharp contrast to LA’s glossy surface,” he notes. “Cold. Shadowy. Figures sporting dark hair and light makeup, persons engaged in substance abuse. The LGBTQ+ scene in San Francisco stood in stark contrast to LA’s. It was inspiring.”

Becoming Part of Faith No More

It’s here, in 1981, that Bottum joined Faith No Man (later Faith No More) with Billy Gould and Mike Bordin, complementing their “pummelling rhythm section” with “an element of grace over the gloom. Keyboards were rare in rock groups at the time.” They try out vocalists, including – temporarily – Courtney Love, the memoir’s most striking figure, an fearless source of disorder causing domestic havoc and making enemies at every turn.

“We immediately felt a bond, Courtney and I,” Bottum states. Their platonic friendship temporarily shifted into a sexual relationship, leading to pregnancy and abortion; later, Bottum became a trusted confidant of Love and her husband, Kurt Cobain. Far from the grunge Lady Macbeth of misogynist legend, Bottum portrays Love as someone with wit, energy and self-determination.

“Courtney had a hard go of it,” he concurs. “An influential yet disputed individual, and so smart. Such a character is fascinating to document. She’s a warm, compassionate person, and a lot of people aren’t exposed to that. But we were very close and took care of each other.”

Faith No More’s Formative Years

The nascent Faith No More were, Bottum acknowledges, “completely ridiculous.” Their music focused on insistent, weighty rhythms played freely while under the influence of assorted narcotics, including MDMA, while their frontman, eccentric drinker Chuck Mosley, “didn’t have a good singing voice.” But they had aspiration. “Everyone in our scene was into goth and dark stuff, but we were fans of pop culture icons. Somehow, we felt connected to that world. However, we lacked any pop charm or allure.”

But their ironic hybrid track We Care a Lot became a small-scale success on MTV in 1988, Mosley ceded the mic to the camera-friendly Mike Patton (who did have a good singing voice), and by 1990 Faith No More’s third album was a genuine, award-recognized success. As usual, The Royal We doesn’t dwell on this triumph, jump-cutting instead to their ill-fated tour on Guns N’ Roses and Metallica’s 1992 stadium tour.

“The heroin was me self-medicating, so I could feel OK about living all these secrets.”

The Big Tour Experience

It was, Bottum remarks, “the largest concert series of its time.” But Faith No More were quickly distanced by the “harmful” rock’n’roll circus they’d joined; in the memoir, he tells an uncomfortable encounter with fans recruited for GN’R’s entertainment. “The sexism and arrogance from Guns N’ Roses felt overwhelming,” he says. “They had that song One In a Million, with the N word and the F word [faggot], and that was the vibe backstage. I didn’t want any part of it. We resisted sacrificing our values for this negativity.”

The tour – from which Faith No More were fired two weeks early, for criticizing GN’R in the press – marked a critical juncture for Bottum. “I had to embrace my true self,” he declares, “to talk about being gay, to separate myself from this harmful atmosphere.” Against his managers’ advice, he came out in the pages of the Advocate the following year. “I stood alone as an openly gay man in rock music,” he says. “Freddie Mercury hadn’t come out before he died. Michael Stipe remained silent on the topic, nor Judas Priest’s frontman, nor Hüsker Dü’s member. This fueled my frustration. It was essential to document my story, to promote inclusivity in the music industry. Many queer youth expressed how my openness impacted them positively.”

Personal Struggles and Sobriety

Bottum never talked about his sexuality with his group, even though he toured with his boyfriend on the tourbus. “They were accepting and would have supported me,” he notes. “The harm caused by societal homophobia then, the impact of internalized stigma.” He found immediate support from Cobain, the Nirvana frontman who was the clear opposite of the sexism and anti-gay sentiment that had marred the GN’R tour. “Kurt was like a unicorn,” Bottum murmurs. “He wanted to be gay – Kurt loved the provocation of that. This connected us deeply. He appreciated my openness and presence. His character was remarkable.”

Bottum became intimate to Cobain and Love, the trio connected at the time by drug use. Bottum