Singer Dubrow happy to still be Riot-ing

Kirk Baird

Friday, Dec. 7, 2001 | 9:49 a.m.

As if Marilyn Manson doesn't take enough heat from parent and religious groups, the shock rocker can also be blamed for something else: Quiet Riot.

Sure, the '80s metal act was busy cranking out its hits while Manson was hitting puberty in Canton, Ohio. But it was an invitation to perform at Manson's post-concert party in Los Angeles in 1997 that got Quiet Riot's Kevin DuBrow on vocals; Carlos Cavazo, guitar; Rudy Sarzo, bass; and Frankie Banali, drums; onstage together for the first time in more than a decade.

"Frankie asked Rudy to come and do the last two songs with us, 'Bang Your Head' and 'Feel the Noize,' and he did. And Rudy said he would be interested in joining on a permanent basis if I would be also," DuBrow said during a a recent interview.

"It was a no-brainer for me. I'm a singer, it's what I've done for 26 years now. The original lineup was a lineup that was successful and what all the fans had a good feeling about, so we started up again."

Now, for better or worse, the metal act that may best typify the here-today, gone-tomorrow '80s hair band is back.

Touring in support of "Guilty Pleasures," the group's first studio effort since 1995, Quiet Riot performs Saturday at Boulder Station's Railhead.

While technically not the original lineup -- that dates back to 1975, when the band featured DuBrow, Drew Forsyth on drums, Kelly Garni on bass, and a little-known guitarist named Randy Rhoads -- it's certainly the most successful.

Of course, that success quickly changed for the band after its heyday in 1983 and '84, when songs such as the aforementioned "Cum on Feel the Noize" and "Metal Health (Bang Your Head)," along with the group's other hit, "Mama Weer All Crazee Now," kept Quiet Riot in heavy rotation on MTV and radio stations across the United States.

And by the early-to-mid-'90s, when grunge and college radio had all but killed '80s hair bands, Quiet Riot was facing its own mortality.

"There was a period of time, probably in '95 and '96, when alternative was at its peak ... and we were considered cheeseballs of the last decade," DuBrow , a Las Vegas resident, said.

Which understandably left some critics scratching their heads as to why bands such as Quiet Riot -- groups whose glory days were clearly behind them -- were still around.

"A lot of people say, 'You guys will never be as big as you were in the '80s, you should just give it up.' Well, you don't tell a doctor to give it up with the profession he's chosen after a certain amount of years," DuBrow said. "Why does rock have to only be if you have hits or only if you're a certain age group? It can be your profession regardless of the size venues you play or the amount of records you sell.

"I believe that you should do what you do, if it makes you happy and you can earn a living doing so. And I'm still having fun, and we still earn a living and it's better than a lot of other things you could do."

Such as a morning-show disc jockey on a rock station, which DuBrow did for nearly a year, beginning in July 1996, on KOMP 92.3-FM before being let go.

"I found that what I wanted out of radio, a stable job, is less stable than Quiet Riot -- even less at the station that I worked for. It wasn't what I thought it was going to be," he said. "They have their own politics."

Overall, DuBrow's negative experience in radio made him appreciate his band more, which he had relegated to part-time status while at KOMP.

In a previous interview with the Sun conducted shortly after DuBrow began his stint with the station, the singer seemed a bit weary of his rock 'n' roll days, and indicated that belting out, " 'Cum on Feel the Noize' for the 10,000th time isn't the greatest."

Now that Quiet Riot is again his full-time job, DuBrow has had a change of heart.

"(I'm) grateful to have had the hit, because a lot of people don't even have it," he said. "For every band like Quiet Riot that had a huge hit like that, there's a bunch of bands in the '80s like Helix and Kick Axe and Girlschool and a bunch of third-string bands that never had a hit."

He's also grateful Quiet Riot is still remembered.

"We're somewhat iconoclastic. We go into airports and people still recognize us, and we haven't had a hit since 1984," DuBrow said. "That's weird."