When Roddy Bottum began writing his impressive autobiography The Royal We, the Faith No More keyboardist had a clear vision of the kind of book he did not wish to create. “Those with photo inserts in the center,” he notes, in a video call from Oxnard, California, where he is wrapping up a new album with his group Imperial Teen. “I’m not a big fan of rock memoirs – they’re the most predictable, name-droppy, sub-literature experiences.”
The Royal We avoids being name-droppy – Bottum leaves out the surnames of his bandmates. And while he describes the band’s beginnings and early development, this takes a back seat to his “youth escapades” in San Francisco, “prior to the digital age, before the city’s decline.” Much of the emphasis is on his personal journey with identity, and how the accompanying concealment and shame have shaped his life. “I was having sex with men when I was very young, 13 or 14,” he states. “The stigma was immense, and it influenced my entire existence.” In the memoir, events involving his cruising public toilets and parks as a teenager are described without hesitation and defiantly. “I engaged with older men in secluded areas,” he records. “First filled with guilt, then with confidence. Get lost.”
“During presentations, I open with that segment,” he comments. “I understand how provocative statements like that are; it’s so inappropriate. But I have no regret. With Trump in power, my truth needs to be shouted loud, to fight the bigotry, the anti-trans and homophobic mindsets.” He stops. “I aim to stir controversy. I have relatives who are Christian people, and it’s absolutely my intention to ruin their Thanksgiving dinner with this book. Because they’ll all read it.”
The memoir starts on the teenage Bottum shifting from his native Los Angeles. “The city was a sudden shift from LA’s bright facade,” he notes. “Cold. Shadowy. Individuals with jet-black hair and pale complexions, persons engaged in substance abuse. The queer culture that existed in San Francisco was all so different from Los Angeles. It was inspiring.”
Entering the Band Faith No More
In 1981, Bottum became a member of Faith No Man, which evolved into Faith No More with Billy Gould and Mike Bordin, complementing their “powerful bass and drums” with “a sense of beauty atop that darkness. Keyboards were rare in rock groups at the time.” They rotate vocalists, including – briefly – Courtney Love, the memoir’s most memorable personality, an bold instigator of turmoil lighting homes on fire and making enemies at every turn.
“Courtney and I both knew right away that we were soulmates,” Bottum says. Their non-romantic relationship temporarily shifted into a physical connection, causing pregnancy and abortion; later, Bottum became a close advisor of Love and her husband, Kurt Cobain. Unlike the vilified image some hold, Bottum describes Love as someone with intelligence, drive and self-determination.
“Courtney had a hard go of it,” he concurs. “An influential yet disputed individual, and highly intelligent. Such a character is fascinating to document. She’s a warm, compassionate person, and many fail to see that side. But we were very close and took care of each other.”
Faith No More’s Formative Years
The nascent Faith No More were, Bottum confesses, “absolutely preposterous.” Their music focused on repetitive heavy grooves jammed out while under the influence of assorted narcotics, including MDMA, while their frontman, alcoholic oddball Chuck Mosley, “didn’t have a good singing voice.” But they had drive. “Everyone in our scene was into goth and dark stuff, but we loved MTV, Madonna and Cyndi Lauper. Somehow, we felt connected to that world. Though there was nothing shiny or attractive or poptastic about us.”
But their ironic hybrid track We Care a Lot became a small-scale success on MTV in 1988, Mosley handed over vocals to the photogenic Mike Patton (who did have a good singing voice), and by 1990 Faith No More’s third album was a bona fide, Grammy-nominated hit. Characteristically, The Royal We doesn’t dwell on this triumph, jump-cutting instead to their unsuccessful period on Guns N’ Roses and Metallica’s 1992 stadium tour.
“Heroin served as my coping mechanism for hidden truths.”
Touring with Giants
It was, Bottum says, “the largest concert series of its time.” But Faith No More were quickly distanced by the “toxic” rock’n’roll circus they’d entered; in the memoir, he describes an uncomfortable encounter with fans recruited for GN’R’s entertainment. “The toxic masculinity exuded by that group was stifling,” he says. “That song featured derogatory language, and that was the vibe backstage. I refused to participate. We didn’t want to loan our credibility, our culture, our individuality to this poison.”
The tour – from which Faith No More were fired two weeks early, for speaking against GN’R in the press – marked a turning point for Bottum. “I needed to be who I was,” he declares, “to open up about being queer, to separate myself from this toxic environment.” Against his managers’ advice, he publicly revealed his sexuality in the pages of the Advocate the following year. “I stood alone as an openly gay man in rock music,” he states. “Freddie Mercury never publicly acknowledged his sexuality. Stipe avoided the subject, nor Rob Halford, nor Hüsker Dü’s member. This fueled my frustration. I needed to put myself on that page of history, to promote inclusivity in the music industry. Many queer youth expressed how my openness impacted them positively.”
Personal Struggles and Sobriety
Bottum hadn’t even discussed his sexuality with his fellow members, even though he travelled with his boyfriend on the tourbus. “They were accepting and would have supported me,” he comments. “The harm caused by societal homophobia then, the impact of internalized stigma.” He found swift approval from Cobain, the Nirvana frontman who was the proud antithesis of the sexism and discrimination that had marred the GN’R tour. “Kurt was like a unicorn,” Bottum says softly. “He wanted to be gay – Kurt loved the provocation of that. I think that’s why we were really good friends. My sexuality was something he valued. His character was remarkable.”
Bottum developed a strong bond to Cobain and Love, the trio united at the time by drug use. Bottum
