Alice in Chains: The Untold Story

Chapter 1

LAYNE RUTHERFORD STALEY was born on Tuesday, August 22, 1967, at Overlake Hospital in Bellevue, Washington. His parents, Phillip Blair Staley and Nancy Elizabeth Layne, were living in the town of Kirkland, located along the eastern shore of Lake Washington.1

Layne’s birth was announced in the “Born Yesterday” section of the next day’s edition of The Seattle Times. Under the subheading “To Mr. and Mrs.—” the section is an alphabetical listing of every child born the previous day in each hospital in the greater Seattle area. The final birth listed under Overlake Hospital reads, “Phillip B. Staley, 10146 N.E. 64th St., Kirkland, boy.”2

Phil and Nancy, who were twenty-nine and nineteen at the time, had been married by a minister nearly six months earlier in a ceremony witnessed by Paul R. Staley, the groom’s brother, and Margaret Ann Layne, the bride’s sister. The previous summer, Nancy had competed in the Miss Washington Pageant as Miss Bellevue. When Phil and Nancy’s engagement was announced in January 1967, Nancy was a student at the Cornish School of Allied Arts.3 She was the oldest of Robert L. Layne and Ann J. Becker’s three daughters. Her parents were both graduates of the University of Washington, where they were involved in the fraternity and sorority scene on campus.

Phil was the oldest of Earl R. and Audrey Staley’s four sons. He went to Denver University, where he was a member of the Sigma Chi fraternity. A car salesman by profession, Phil had the car business in his genes going back two generations.4 His father, Earl R. Staley, had been involved in trailer manufacturing and related industries since 1935, when he was just twenty-one years old. Phil’s grandfather, Earl B. Staley, was born in Kansas in 1884, from which the family relocated to Denver, according to the 1900 U.S. Census. Earl, who worked in the automobile and truck industry, began his career in Denver in 1903, working in various capacities in the field until he relocated to Seattle in 1907 after accepting a job as service manager for the Pacific Coast Automobile Sales Company.5

In September 1970, when Layne was three, his mother gave birth to his sister Elizabeth Audreyann Staley. His affinity for music showed at an early age. Layne told Rolling Stone his first memory was of looking up at a musical carousel hanging over his crib.6

According to his other sister Jamie Elmer, Layne was known for being very focused as a child. “He would really be into whatever drawing he was doing or art project. He was really focused. I remember [Nancy] saying that [if] he was really focused on … drawing something or playing with Legos or Tinkertoys [and] she’d put a sandwich in front of his nose … he wouldn’t even notice. He was so into whatever art or craft he was doing at the time.”

She also described Layne as being very close to Liz. “I don’t ever remember hearing stories of them not being close. And definitely because of them having the same parents and being full brother and sister, there was a closeness between the two of them that was pretty apparent and special and different than with the rest of us.”

After seven years of marriage, on October 30, 1974, Phil filed for divorce. The filing does not provide a specific cause, stating only that the marriage was “irretrievably broken.” Through his attorney, Phil proposed a settlement and child-support plan. Because Nancy never went to court or filed a motion to contest the documents filed by Phil, his attorney successfully argued that the court issue an order of default accepting Phil’s proposal.7

James Kenneth Elmer was an appraiser working for a bank where Nancy was working as part of a public relations campaign. Jim went to a Christmas party in December 1974, which Nancy also attended, where they were introduced by a mutual friend. Jim isn’t sure if he’d call his initial reaction love at first sight, but said “It was certainly interesting. I certainly took notice.”

It was a fairly quick courtship—a matter of a few months. The first time Jim met Layne and Liz was at Nancy’s mother’s home. “One evening, we were going to go out. The kids were there. At that age, they’re just real delightful. Nothing spectacular happened, but that’s when I first met them.” Jim didn’t think the kids understood the idea that he was dating their mother at the time. His impressions of Layne: “He’s a sensitive child, smart kid. Certainly loved his sister and mom.” As the relationship became serious, they talked to Layne and Liz about it.

On June 13, 1975, two months after Nancy’s divorce from Phil was finalized, she married Jim Elmer. Nancy would eventually take her new husband’s surname. At the time, Layne was two months shy of his eighth birthday. In addition to Layne and Liz, Ken, Jim’s son from his first marriage, was added to the mix. Of his parents’ divorce and his mother’s remarriage, Layne would say years later, “No deep, dark secrets there. I remember sometimes wondering where my dad was, but most of the time I was too busy running around and playing.”8

Ken’s parents had divorced when he was three years old. A few years later, they both remarried within one or two weeks of each other. Under the visitation terms worked out by his parents, Ken had a schedule where he would see his father every weekend, as well as during summers and holidays for extended visits. “Layne and I got together and got along very quickly. Liz was a year younger than me, so she was about four, he was probably seven turning eight, and I was five turning six. So it was a good age. I remember we picked on Liz quite a bit in life, but that’s what older brothers do,” Ken said.

Jim offered a similar recollection. “I think they became reasonably close. You’ve got three little kids. You’re always going to have some type of dynamic and so forth. But by and large, we did things with the three of them and kept everybody involved.”

“Layne was always a gentle kid, a kind kid—smart in his own way. Not school smart, but certainly incredibly intelligent, as we learned later in life,” Ken added. Layne played T-ball in elementary school, Jim said, but didn’t show much interest in sports as he got older. Ken recalled watching Seattle Seahawks football games with his father on TV, during which Layne would get bored and leave the room. Academically, Jim described Layne as “a reasonably good student. I don’t think he was straight-A, but he seemed to like school. He had his group of friends.” He also noted, “I don’t remember any drama with him being in school until he started to grow up.”

Though Layne’s serious interest in music wouldn’t develop until a few years later, one noteworthy event happened in October 1975, when Elton John was on tour and was scheduled to perform two nights at the Seattle Center Coliseum. Jim wanted to go to the show. He doesn’t remember how this came about, but he took Layne to what would be his first concert.9 As the lights went down before the start of the show, people inside the venue began smoking marijuana. Layne looked around, looked at Jim, and asked “Dad, do you smell that stuff?”

As far as Layne’s impressions of the show, Jim said, “He was certainly not bored. He certainly enjoyed the music. It was sold out. You had a lot of people, well-behaved, there was excitement. He was just taking it all in at that age.”

In the first year or two after Nancy married Jim Elmer, Phil would come by occasionally to see Layne and Liz. Eventually, Phil started spending progressively less time with them, leading to a major decision within the family.

“In Liz’s case, she got to the point where she wanted to have a stay-at-home dad. While she and Phil got along, once he started to kind of disappear, she wanted a little more stability, and [to] know that she could count on somebody. We talked with her about being adopted and she liked that idea.” The Elmers went through the process so Jim could legally adopt Liz as his daughter, a decision Phil—who declined to be interviewed for this book—consented to. As a result, she legally changed her surname to Elmer. Layne felt very differently about the situation. According to Jim, “He was waiting for his dad to come back and didn’t want to be adopted.” He would use the Elmer surname through high school, but he never legally changed it like Liz did.

Layne and Ken developed an interest in music during the late 70s and early 80s, according to Ken. “We both gravitated very heavily to that hair-band rock and roll: Twisted Sister, Ozzy, Scorpions—I mean, that’s all we listened to.” Layne’s tastes weren’t limited to the metal and hard rock of the day. At one point, Ken remembers Layne being a big fan of Billy Joel’s Glass Houses album. “I remember for a year or so, he was so into that that it was crazy. And that was at a very young age.” Jim remembers him liking Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours.

When Layne was between ten and twelve years old, Jim took him and a few boys from the neighborhood to a Van Halen concert. “That’s where they really started to like the music, I think. We were down in the general seating area, without any seats, so we were down in that mosh-pit area. So when things started, I got off to the side. The two neighbor boys and Layne were about the same age, and they stayed down there.” He added, “I stayed down there with them for just a little bit, and even in those days, I was the oldest person down there. Some girl came up with her boyfriend and said, ‘You’re really great for being down here.’ I took that as a compliment, because it was action-packed. It was a great concert. I think they stayed down there for the whole thing.”

Years later, Layne told journalist Jon Wiederhorn he realized he wanted to make music for a living in the fourth grade. “I didn’t know what I was going to play. I started playing the trumpet, then cornet, then drums. I’d listen to my favorite rock bands on headphones and try to imitate them. But when I was fifteen I realized I was getting much better than when I started, so I decided I wanted to sing. At the time I was in a cover band with friends from high school.”10

Jim’s parents owned a vacation home on Long Beach, Washington, and every summer Jim would take his family there for a week. Ken has many fond memories of Layne during these trips. Ken remembers spending time at the sand dunes or Marsh’s Free Museum. The last year they went, Layne and Ken wound up double-dating a girl from Marsh’s and one of her friends the entire week.

A major milestone was the birth of Jim and Nancy’s daughter, Jamie Brooke Elmer, on January 20, 1978. At the time, Layne was ten, Ken was nine, and Liz was seven.11 In terms of parenting, Jim credits Nancy for joining a support group with other stay-at-home mothers focused on how to help or improve the parenting process. “That was extremely important,” Jim said. “I think that fostered a lot of good things in the state and certainly within our family, with the girls as they were growing up.” She began the classes within a year or so after Jamie’s birth.

According to Rolling Stone, Layne took up drums when he was twelve. “Our friend had a drum set and offered to let Layne use it,” Nancy would later recall.12 According to Ken, “He started playing the drums, and he was a pretty good little drummer. But he just never had contacts or never really had that big group of friends to go and form a whole bunch of bands. You’ve just got those pockets of guys who are like that, and Layne just wasn’t like that.”

The decision to switch from drums to singing was one of the most consequential of Layne’s life. Years later, he explained how it happened. “I was playing drums and I wanted to sing one song, and the singer said, ‘No, you’re a drummer. Drummers don’t sing.’ So we got in a fight and I packed up my drums and got in my van and drove straight downtown, traded in my drum set for a delay, a microphone, and a mic cord, and went home and started practicing. I was horrible at first, but I found my instrument.”13

Ken Elmer was in the car with Layne when Layne mentioned in an almost offhand manner, “Oh, by the way, I sold everything and I got a microphone.” Layne and Ken shared a large downstairs room, each with his own waterbed. Until that day, their beds had shared the space with Layne’s drum kit, which had been replaced by microphones and a PA system. “The drums were always a part of the family for years, and he would always be a drummer. And then one day I came over for visitation, and all the drum stuff is gone. And there’s these big speakers and an amplifier and like two microphones. I’m like, ‘Dude, what did you do?’”

“Oh, I sold everything. I’m gonna be a singer.”

Ken was flabbergasted. “I’m like, ‘You can’t freaking sing!’” he recalled years later, laughing pretty hard. “I’m like, ‘You suck!’”

“No, this is what we’re gonna do now.”

Ken had no idea where his decision to sing came from. During subsequent visits, Layne and Ken would transcribe lyrics to songs by Twisted Sister, the Scorpions, and Van Halen and then sing over the songs. This lasted for about a year at most. “The funny part of it is, I really didn’t think he had a good voice.”

Though they went to schools in different districts, Ken remembers Layne had little interest in academics growing up. “He was a very intelligent guy. He just didn’t have time for certain structures that society told him he had to be a part of. He would say, ‘Screw that. Why?’ And later in life, I kind of respected him for that.”

Regarding his grade school years, Layne said, “I hated school. I wasn’t very popular and I wasn’t big into sports. I liked woodworking and skateboarding.”14

According to Jim, Layne began dabbling in drugs and alcohol at some point during his teenage years. “He was running around with the wrong crowd and coming home from school later. He was doing something. We knew that; we could smell it.” He doesn’t remember smelling marijuana on his clothes, but he did smell alcohol. He never found evidence of drugs or drug paraphernalia while Layne was living at the house during this period.

During one of Ken’s weekend visits, he and Layne—who was a teenager at the time—went to a neighbor’s house one night to watch Friday the 13th on HBO. Someone had brought marijuana, and everyone there that night except Ken smoked it.

Layne once tried Dexatrim, a weight-loss drug that was available over the counter at the time. According to Ken, “It speeds up your metabolism massively. I think that the thing was when we were kids, we were told if you take a bunch of that stuff, it hits you like speed. I mean it makes you super high. I just remember him experimenting with that at least once that I knew of.” Ken does not know the extent of Layne’s drug use during this period, but does not think the Friday the 13th episode meant he was regularly smoking marijuana. Nancy told The Seattle Times, “He got in trouble doing things kids do. He dabbled in trying drugs, about the age thirteen or fourteen. Then his junior and senior years he stayed drug-free, and he was the happiest then.”15 Ken has no recollection of Layne’s doing any hard drugs at this point but said he was drinking.

Layne began his freshman year at Meadowdale High School in Lynnwood on September 8, 1981, according to a record shown by a school source. When he was a student, he was one of the shortest boys in his class. “In his junior year he had pretty much lost interest in school—he’d been picked on because he was small, so he was really through with the scene,” Nancy said. She gave Layne the option of dropping out. Around the same time, Layne went through a growth spurt and went from being one of the shortest boys to being six feet tall—a height he had always wanted to be. He told his mother, “The girls have started to notice me,” and decided to stay in school.16

According to Jim, “He did get picked on when he was at that younger age because of his size. He certainly started to dabble around. It took him a while to grow, but when he did, he did. Then things started to change.”

“I can remember when he was in a situation where he was getting picked on [at] school. A couple of times, it ended a little more dramatic than just getting picked on. He got in a couple of fights and so forth. He started to change and got more interested in the drug culture and music and so forth. He definitely had some options.”

According to Ken, “I’m not going to say that he always hated being around people, but he wasn’t an overly gregarious person. So I don’t think just that he was short, it was a little bit of his nature, his personality, as well.” He also noted with a slight laugh that “Layne was not a big stud with the ladies. He kept to himself a lot. He didn’t have a lot of girlfriends growing up.”

When Layne was about fifteen, he and Nancy were having an argument. The car was packed for a weekend family trip and Layne didn’t want to go. Jim recalled, “They were having words and things started to escalate. Nancy had mentioned to me, ‘Why don’t you do something?’ I was prepared to just leave and let things cool down. She says, ‘You’re not protecting me.’ Calling his mother names and that type of thing—I’m caught in the middle between her getting verbally abused and so forth.

“I got out of the car [and] went to see Layne, who was on the front steps. I took him around to the backyard and I spanked him.” That was the first and only time he ever did this. “He was not going to give in. It shows the resolve of that kid. I did push him against the side of the house, and he was not going to show any defeat or anything else. Of course, I felt bad, and I think he felt bad.” Jim and Layne talked about the incident a few years later and apologized to each other.

The family left for the weekend, leaving Layne alone at the house. When they came back, there was a smell of Lysol. “That’s not how we left the house. It was clean, but not spotless. This house was spotless,” he recalled. “Nancy and I looked at each other and said, ‘We’re going to be calm, going to see what happened, what he tells us.’”

Layne approached them visibly shaken and crying. He and his friends who lived next door had gone out to a 7-Eleven to get food. A comment was made that Layne’s parents were out of town, and word got around that there was an open house, so a party was organized. One of the neighbors called the police. Jim found out later on that when the police showed up, there were at least a hundred people at the house.

“Layne came to us and confessed. He was just so remorseful that things were so out of control. It was meaningful because he and the two neighbor boys were going from room to room, constantly keeping people out of closets, looking for stuff and so forth. Once the police got there, got everybody scared away, those boys spent the next two days cleaning that house. It was a telling point in his life where it scared him, in terms of being out of control. He had mentioned that because there were so many people, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“We didn’t chastise him or anything. He learned his own lesson. But that was telling to us all.”

At about the same age, Layne ran away from home for the first time. He was staying with a friend two houses away for a few days before the mother called Layne’s parents and asked, “Would you come get your son?”

They refused to pick him up and told her to send Layne home.

The second incident happened about six months later. Layne had taken off for a day. It was dark and rainy that night, and his parents got a call from the Lynnwood Police Department, informing them that Layne was at the station and asking them to pick him up. He had not been arrested or detained for anything, according to Jim.

“Nancy and I kind of looked at each other. We [have] got [to draw] a line of responsibility.” Jim’s personal inclination was to pick him up. After talking about it, Jim and Nancy decided to teach Layne a lesson.

“Well, he walked down there. He can walk home,” they told the police officer.

“He may not want to do that.”

“Well, you can bring him home or you can tell him. We’ve made it real clear, he knows where his home is. Just tell him his dinner is waiting and his waterbed is ready.”

Layne walked home, ate his dinner, and went to bed. He never ran away again. “Here we were having another dispute, a child running away. I think both Nancy and I would agree it was the best thing to do,” Jim said. “The point of contention was you can’t just have your way in the family, of running away, and having everything brought back to you in terms of we’ll come pick you up, we’ll take care of you. It’s all about you, Layne. It’s drawing some boundaries—you’ve got some responsibility.”

Jamie’s earliest memory of Layne, probably from around this period when she was about five years old, is of him making potato chips in the kitchen. She also remembers him practicing the trumpet and drums.

At some point during this period, he worked as a busboy and dishwasher at an Italian restaurant close to his home. According to Jim, Layne would do whatever odd job they gave him, but he doesn’t think Layne had any skill or focus at the time to work as a waiter or cook.

When Ken visited on weekends, he and Layne would go to their room and sing along to songs all day. For Ken, it was just fun. For Layne, Ken said, “It was like, ‘I’m training for what I want to do.’ And I think that’s why he got his head on straight a little bit.

“Because he had a focus. He had a goal. He had something that gave him some drive. School didn’t give it to him. He was never overly interested in girls in that way at a young age, and this kind of gave him a push. I think that’s just as much a key as whether he was six feet or not.” In switching from drums to singing, Layne may have found something he was passionate about that he could develop, but it was an encounter and a chance suggestion by Ken that would ultimately change the direction of Layne’s life.

Chapter 2

JAMES BERGSTROM WAS WALKING between classes at Shorewood High School one day in 1984 when he ran into Ken Elmer, a friend from the marching band. Ken knew that Bergstrom’s band, Sleze, was looking for a singer, and he had somebody in mind for them.

“Hey, my stepbrother Layne plays drums but he wants to be a singer. You should give him a call,” Elmer told him. After the initial pitch, Elmer said under his breath, “I think he kind of sucks, so it’s not my fault—if you can’t do it, then that’s fine.”

Not long after, Ken went over to Jim and Nancy’s home and told Layne about the position. Layne’s mother recalled that conversation to journalist Greg Prato:

“Layne, there are a couple of guys over at Shorewood High School looking for a singer,” Ken told him.

“Well, I’m not a singer,” Layne responded.

“Why don’t you try out anyhow?”1

An audition was eventually set up. Bergstrom told Sleze guitarist Johnny Bacolas about the new singer they would be trying out. Bacolas liked what he was hearing—that he was thin and was peroxiding his hair. The first person who came to mind was Mötley Crüe singer Vince Neil, a band that Bacolas and the other members of Sleze were huge fans of.

The tryout took place at Bergstrom’s parents’ house in Richmond Beach, where Sleze had their jam room in the basement. They were young—still in early high school and still learning how to play their instruments and playing covers. Tim Branom—a musician who would later produce one of Sleze’s demos—described the band: “They had a Mötley Crüe but punk influence, something [that] today would be only described as an angry Seattle vibe but as a glam band with black lipstick and black fingernails. This was very radical for them to do, especially since their parents were very straight and churchgoing people.”

The members of Sleze had no expectations before the audition. “[We] didn’t know what we were going to get. Just, we knew that he was really getting into singing, and that he had bleached-blond hair, and that was good enough,” Bacolas recalled. When he arrived, the others noticed his tall stature, soft-spoken demeanor, and that he was very much dressed for the part.

“He came to our jam room and was really shy, real timid,” Bacolas said. “And just as we expected, we were like, ‘Fuck, yeah! This is what a lead singer should look like!’”

Ed Semanate, the other founding guitarist for Sleze, recalls that his most vivid memory of Layne during that first introduction was that he had band names like “Ozzy” or “Mötley Crüe” written on his pants in bleach.

The four surviving band members are all fairly certain that the first song they performed with Layne was a cover of Mötley Crüe’s “Looks That Kill,” although Bacolas and Bergstrom won’t entirely rule out the possibility it may have been W.A.S.P.’s “L.O.V.E. Machine.”

“At the top of our list for sure was Mötley Crüe. That was the band we would want to be,” Byron Hansen said. The other members immediately knew they were onto something.

“I can tell you if it was ‘Looks That Kill,’ when he got to the part ‘Now she’s a cool cool black,’ he could actually hit those notes. We were like, ‘Oh my God! This is awesome!’” Bergstrom recalled with a laugh. “So you had that feeling, ‘Here’s this kid. He’s got a great-sounding voice. He’s cool. He could sing on key. And he also had good range and he was soulful, though he was just a raw beginner.’ So we knew we had something special, and we were like in heaven from then. We became a band.”

Hansen agreed. “We were totally like, ‘Wow! This guy can sing like Vince Neil! He’s like a little Vince Neil!’ We just thought it was awesome.”

Although Layne’s voice was still in a raw, undeveloped form and he was only singing covers at this point, it was impossible to compare his sound with that of singers in the past or his contemporaries.

“He didn’t strike me as ‘Oh, this guy is a [Jim] Morrison wannabe,’ or ‘Oh, this guy is a Robert Plant wannabe,’ or an Ozzy wannabe. Layne had his own thing, and I think that’s what was the most appealing about him,” Bacolas said. “He had a very distinctive voice. I didn’t want another Morrison or another Rob Halford. We weren’t looking for that. I don’t know what we were looking for. We just kind of—we just found it.”

At one point, Layne asked Bergstrom for permission to play his drum kit. Bergstrom agreed, and Layne started playing the beginning of Mötley Crüe’s “Red Hot.” Bergstrom was impressed. “Man, you gotta show me that!”

The decision was a no-brainer—Layne got the job on the spot. Ken Elmer ran into Bergstrom not long after. “He just comes running down the hall, ‘Dude, your brother is fucking awesome!’ I mean, he’s swearing and he’s screaming and he’s like, ‘It’s perfect.’ And I’m like, ‘Oh, I thought for sure you guys would hate him. I think he kind of sucks,’” he recalled.

The band rehearsed several times a week, gradually expanding their repertoire and playing ability. At one point, Semanate told Layne he needed a digital delay—a device that creates an echo effect on vocals. Layne and Semanate went to a local music store and bought one. The delay eventually became part of Layne’s singing style.

Bergstrom would often hang out with Layne or spend the night at his house. He remembers staying up late at night watching The Exorcist or plugging in his PA unit so he could practice his singing or experiment with it. “He’d plug it all in and practice. He’d practice singing to like ‘Metal Thrashing Mad’ by Anthrax. He practiced ‘Rod of Iron’ by Lizzy Borden, all these different songs. He was fascinated with his digital delay at first.”

Layne began his senior year at Meadowdale High School in the fall of 1984. A review of the school yearbooks from 1981 to 1985 found only three photos of him: a portrait photo from his sophomore year in 1982–83, a group photo of the industrial woodworking class of 1984–85, and the senior-class group photo. In the two latter photos, his platinum-blond hair made him stick out. There were no portrait photos of him during his freshman, junior, and senior years.

It was Rick Throm’s first year teaching the industrial woodworking course. “He didn’t seem to have a lot of friends in the class. He was kind of a loner, but he listened to what you said, and he did what you said, and he seemed to really enjoy it,” were Throm’s impressions of Layne. Throm liked Layne enough to hire him at his cabinet shop after school for minimum wage.

“He was really willing to learn, but he sometimes felt that he got kind of the short end of the deal in our shop because he was the low man on the totem pole.”

An example: Throm asked Layne to paint a storage shed at his shop. After spending several hours on it over the course of two days, Layne approached Throm, saying, “Mr. Throm, I think I’d like to be building cabinets more than painting this storage shed.”

“Well, everybody has to start somewhere, Layne, and we’ve all painted, we’ve all done this and that, and that’s what you have to do right now,” Throm responded. Consequently, Layne wrote on his hour sheet “Painted fucking storage shed” in protest.

Another time, Throm asked him, “Layne, what do you think you want to do in your life?”

“[Be] a rock star,” he responded.

“Rock star? I want to be a fishing guy, but, look it, I’m in here working. How do you think you’re going to be a rock star?”

“I’m going to win this Battle of the Bands, and that has a recording contract with it.”

“So you think you can win the Battle of the Bands?”

“Oh, yeah. We’re good enough to win the Battle of the Bands.”

“Okay, well, what kind of music do you play, Layne?”

“You don’t know it.”

“Turn on the radio and let’s listen to the station that has some of that music.”

“It’s not on the station.”

“Oh my God, Layne! You want to be a rock star; you want to play music that isn’t even on a radio station. Maybe you better rethink this thing.”

In retrospect, Throm regrets having discouraged Layne from pursuing his dream and is glad Layne didn’t take his advice. It was one of a handful of times that one of his students taught him a lesson. “Layne taught me never to squelch a guy’s dream. Dream on and dream hard, but have a backup plan.” After Layne became successful, Throm thought he might come back to the shop and make him paint the storage shed as payback, but it never happened.

Layne’s parents were supportive of his goals, never discouraging him from his chosen profession. “Nancy and I at that time, we knew what pop rock was, but this new stuff that was coming out, we didn’t quite understand the whole thing, but certainly we were supportive of that and reminded him that we certainly wanted him to stay off of drugs and so forth, but we didn’t tie those two together,” Jim explained. When Layne was about seventeen or eighteen, his parents bought him his first car: a VW Dasher. “By that time, we knew he was going to be in the music business and that was [his] dream and he needed transportation, so we wanted to help him out,” he said.

Jamie Elmer remembers keeping Layne company as he was working on the Dasher. He had cleaned out the case containing the windshield wiper fluid, filled it with orange juice, and rigged the hose for the fluid so that it came out of the dashboard inside the car. He had turned the windshield wiper system into a drink machine and poured her a glass of orange juice from the dashboard. He could also modify his car for more mischievous purposes.

“The most trouble Layne and I caused together … Layne had a little car at one point and we pried the window washers to spray outward, and we were driving around and shooting people with it. As we drove by, we’d soak them,” James Bergstrom recalled with a laugh. “We saw a police officer coming into the parking lot, and we pulled out and drove across the street to an Arby’s, and the cop followed us, and we were like, ‘Oh, shit! This isn’t good!’”

The officer pulled Layne over. “Hey, are you guys driving around squirting people?”

“No, Officer,” Layne answered.

“Where’s your windshield wiper applicator?”

After Layne pointed to it, the officer reached into the car and pulled on it, getting soaked from his head down to the middle of his chest. Bergstrom started laughing, at which point Layne smacked him on the leg and told him to be quiet. The officer let Layne off with a warning.

Another time, Bergstrom and some of the other band members were spending the night at Layne’s house. They snuck out to go to a party, walking to Aurora Avenue and down to Richmond Beach several miles away. Layne’s mother woke up in the middle of the night and saw they had gone out. At that time, there were no cell phones, so she called Bergstrom’s mother and went out looking for them. Layne, Bergstrom, and the others were walking back and had almost made it home when they saw Nancy driving by in her van at two o’clock in the morning.

By early 1985, the members of Sleze felt they were ready to perform live. In a scene straight from Back to the Future, Sleze auditioned for the Shorewood High School talent show and didn’t make the cut. “We tried out for the school talent show, and we flunked. They wouldn’t let us do the school talent show,” Semanate said, laughing. “We brought all our shit to the auditorium. We just blasted it out, and they’re like, ‘No fucking way.’”

Sleze eventually got to perform a forty-five-minute set on February 4, 1985, during lunchtime in the Student Activities Center—colloquially dubbed the SAC—at Shorewood High School. Hansen remembers Semanate had designed a hand-drawn poster to promote the show and, as a joke, drew a different version that he showed Hansen first—for “Satanic Sleze,” which featured pentagrams and inverted crosses. On the day of the show, the band members went to Bergstrom’s parents’ house to get ready for the performance. They crowded into a bathroom to put on their stage outfits, makeup, and hair spray.

“We showed up to school like it was Halloween basically. Lunchtime and everyone was just like double-taking us,” Bacolas said, laughing. They had stage fright, since this was their first show. He estimated the crowd size at between two hundred and four hundred students. The set list consisted mostly of covers: “L.O.V.E. Machine,” “Looks That Kill,” Armored Saint’s “False Alarm,” Wrathchild’s “Stakk Attakk,” Venom’s “Countess Bathory,” and Slayer’s “Black Magic.”

Layne was nervous, according to Bacolas. He barely looked at the crowd and mostly paced back and forth onstage, looking down while singing, or else had his back to the audience while looking at the drummer. Despite his nerves and inexperience, he pulled off the performance. The four surviving band members don’t think he forgot any lyrics or hit a wrong note.

After the show, they were feeling pretty good about themselves. “We were high on life! We thought this was it, man. We’re on our way!” Bergstrom said. This was the first and only performance featuring this lineup of the band.

Not long after this show, Semanate went out partying with his bandmates. “We went to this party and we were drinking; we were having fun. It was like a keg. We get in this room, ‘Where’s the bong at?’” Semanate recalled. “This was the first time I smoked weed with them. I even got James high, which blew my mind. It was a lot of fun. Kind of a little bonding thing.”

Shortly after this, according to Semanate, Bergstrom’s mother called a band meeting, where the members and parents would get together at a local pizza restaurant. The concern was that Semanate was a bad influence on the other four.

“I was the bastard child in that band,” Semanate said. “I’d just smoke weed and drink, typical shit I do today.” As soon as the food was served, Semanate said, Bergstrom’s and Hansen’s mothers began expressing their concerns about Semanate. “It was just harping about me. I’m the negative influence in this band, they don’t want their kids looking like me, ending up like me, et cetera, et cetera. So me and my mom, we just left, said, ‘Fuck this. We’re out of here.’”

Bergstrom doesn’t recall too many specifics about that dinner. “I don’t really remember what the whole thing about it was. ‘His hair was too long and he was a bad influence!’ Something silly.” Bacolas has a similar recollection.

Layne was at the dinner, accompanied by his mother and possibly his stepfather, but no one remembers what, if anything, they said. Semanate recalled, “Nancy was pretty cool. She just kicked back and she was on the sidelines.” The next day Semanate went over to Bergstrom’s house to pick up his gear in the basement, still bitter about the dinner.

“It was weird, man, because it was like back then, I was a diehard,” he said. “I would die for my band. I believed in rock and roll that much. I was just a kid who … it was like being a superhero. It was all I had.” On top of that, Semanate was the one who came up with the band name.

Layne called Semanate the next day, telling him he was quitting, too. The two discussed starting a new band, which would be called Fairfax. A day after that, Semanate got a call asking him to join a punk rock band, with hints of a possible record deal, an offer he accepted. Layne went back to Sleze, who would fill Semanate’s spot with Chris Markham.

Bergstrom and Hansen recall another show from 1985 at the Lynnwood Rollerway, where they were competing in a local Battle of the Bands—presumably the same one Layne told Rick Throm about. Layne’s voice was shot, and he was struggling to get through the set.

“He like lost his voice, just kind of hoarse and hurting. He had this spray bottle of Chloraseptic or something like that. He was constantly shooting it in his throat, trying to get it to where he could sing,” Hansen said. According to Bergstrom, Layne had strep throat.

Sleze did another show at the SAC the same year and performed at the Lakeside School talent show, where Markham was a student. They also performed at Shorecrest High School for what Bergstrom described as a pep assembly, during which Sleze performed a cover of the Kingsmen’s “Louie Louie.”

Several members of Sleze turned sixteen that year, which meant they could get their driver’s licenses, which provided greater freedom and mobility. Sleze didn’t tour in a van—they played only in the Seattle area and got to and from gigs in their own cars. Bacolas estimates the band was getting a few hundred dollars a show from local promoters. They didn’t have a manager, so they did their own bookings, a responsibility handled by Bacolas with a landline at his parents’ house or by networking with other bands.

At the end of the 1984–85 school year at Meadowdale, the industrial woodworking class had an awards banquet at which certain students received recognition for their work. Layne got Most Improved Student because, according to Rick Throm, “he really did blossom.”

Layne was supposed to graduate in the summer of 1985, but it turned out that he was one course or one credit short of being able to graduate. According to a school record, there is a note saying that Layne “did not graduate” dated June 5, 1985—most likely graduation day of that year. Layne’s school records were sent to the Chrysalis School in Woodinville on December 4 of the same year, where his sisters were enrolled. “It was a way to keep Layne engaged in some intellectual activity, because he was certainly growing up and so forth,” Jim Elmer explained. “It was an idea that did not come to fruition, because I don’t remember Layne ever going out there.” Layne’s formal education ended when he left Meadowdale.2

When Nancy went to Layne’s twenty-year high school reunion, she spoke to several people, many of whom were surprised to find out their former classmate went on to be the lead singer of Alice in Chains. “They said ‘Layne Staley was Layne Elmer? He was the quietest boy in our class!’ They were shocked,” she told The Seattle Times.3

Hansen started his junior year of high school in the fall of 1985. By this point, he was meeting new people and was getting into different kinds of music and skateboarding. That fall, Sleze was booked to perform at the Rock Theater, a heavy metal–oriented club in downtown Seattle, a big deal at the time. Hansen had a change of heart and told his bandmates he wanted to quit after the show. The only point of dispute was that he wanted to be reimbursed for his share of the PA and audio equipment they had bought as a band. He was replaced by Jim Sheppard.

During this time, much of the attention among musicians was on the Parents Music Resource Center. Cofounded by Tipper Gore, the PMRC was created to raise awareness about the violent, sexual, or occult content in popular music, which the group argued could have a negative impact on children. The PMRC was lobbying for the creation of a voluntary ratings system for explicit content. Their efforts culminated in the famous hearing before the Senate Committee on Commerce, Science, and Transportation on September 19, 1985, which featured testimony from the PMRC on one side and, as a counterpoint, the musicians Frank Zappa, John Denver, and Dee Snider. In retrospect, two years later, Tipper Gore told the New York Times that the hearings were a mistake. “The hearings gave the misperception that there was censorship involved.”4

A few weeks after the hearing, KOMO’s television talk show Town Meeting did an episode about the controversy. Layne and Bacolas were in the audience. The Seattle Times did a write-up on the episode and noted Layne’s comments, writing, “Layne Staley, a Lynnwood teen who plays in a heavy-metal group called ‘Sleze,’ says, ‘Our lyrics are all positive—we don’t use bad language or sing about drugs and sex—but I just want the freedom to write about what I want.’” This is likely the first time he appeared on television, and the first time he was quoted in a newspaper.5

At some point during this period, Sleze played a show at Alki Beach. The significance of that show was not the performance itself, but rather who was in attendance—a nineteen-year-old drummer from Renton named Sean Kinney.

Of his childhood, Sean said, “My dad’s a cop. My mom’s a city official. They got divorced in your typical [white-bread] suburban upbringing for a hyperactive son. I got in trouble. I wouldn’t get in too much trouble. They both worked, so my sister pretty much raised me. They were gone all the time,” he recalled during an interview for an electronic press kit made to coincide with the release of the band’s self-titled album.

He showed an interest in music because of his grandfather, who was a member of a band called the Cross Cats and allowed him to sit in with the band when he was nine years old. “They’d play like country and swing or whatever, and I’d always be over at their house. When they’d take breaks, I’d play. I’d get up and try to play the drums.

“That was the only other band I was really in, the Cross Cats. Nine years! I wore a bow tie. From when I was nine, I took over for the Bob Holler guy. He left. They’re all older, of course, my grandfather. I took over and played for years with them, until I was about twelve or thirteen. I got to do a little road work, my first tour. That was the only other band I was ever in. I did that, and then this [Alice in Chains].”6

“I first met Layne around 1985 when his band was playing at Alki Beach. I told Layne that I thought he was cool but his band sucked. I also told him he should get a different drummer—me” is how Sean recalled their first meeting in an article published in Guitar Legends magazine. Sean—who didn’t have a phone at the time—gave him his girlfriend’s number on a piece of paper.7 Layne hung on to it, unaware of the impact it would have on both of them two years later.

In late 1985, Nick Pollock was a senior at Lindbergh High School when Layne and Bergstrom were looking for a guitar player to replace Chris Markham. According to Pollock, “James and Layne heard from somebody that I had cool hair and played guitar.” They arranged a meeting, where they hit it off, and Layne and Bergstrom invited Pollock to a rehearsal.

“I remember meeting [Layne] in person. I thought he was a totally cocky dude and just totally fit the singer persona. He was a really cool guy,” Pollock said of his initial impression. “I remember hearing him sing on the demo tapes that James gave me, and I thought, ‘Holy shit! This guy’s got some serious pipes!’

“He had a grind to his voice that was just unbelievably cool. It was totally natural. You could tell that he was just star material right there, but just young.” Pollock got the job. Layne and Pollock became friends, each the other’s wingman when going out to meet girls. “I would say that I thoroughly sowed my oats, and Layne was thoroughly my partner in crime in doing so. We happened to be in a popular band and we were able to inspire some very lovely young ladies to do whatever the hell we wanted them to do. So that worked out well!”

Regarding the girls who went to their shows, Bergstrom joked, “The benefits of rock and roll—no such thing as medical and dental.” Bacolas—who left Sleze at one point and later returned as their bassist—offered a similar account. “We had a lot of fun with a lot of girls back then,” he said with a grin. “All of a sudden, we had hundreds of girls at the shows, and it was whatever we wanted, whoever we wanted.”

Pollock got to see a side of Layne most didn’t see in public. “He was a very caring and feeling individual. He cared about people around him and friends and things like that, but at the same time he’s this cocky, irreverent rock-and-roll guy that’s going to be telling people to screw off, being an anarchist, that kind of thing.”

Pollock said Layne never had anything bad to say about his stepfather. “He may joke about [him] irreverently, because he was a parent and we were seventeen and all adults are stupid at that age.” He also said Layne had good relationships with his sisters. Layne and Pollock would sometimes tease Jamie, who was about seven or eight years old at the time. “We called her Chewbacca, because her hair was like round on the top. It was just a way to tease her, and it got at her.”

Inevitably, the two friends would turn on each other. Pollock says Layne made fun of his last name, calling him Polack. One time, he randomly called Layne “Lance Rutherford Elmer” and touched a nerve. “It would make him madder than fuck. He would get so angry at me, he would be ready to get out of the goddamn moving car,” he recalled. “Whenever he would be shitty to me and piss me off, I would start going down that road and then he’d shut up.”

Pollock had forgotten what the Rutherford name meant until he was interviewed for this book. James Bergstrom doesn’t recall how they found out about it. “I think he confided in us. I think we were having one of our band talks. I don’t know if it was just him and I, because I don’t think I told anybody because he asked me not to.” He did confirm Pollock’s account that Layne’s middle name was a very touchy subject. “He hated that. He basically swore to us, ‘Don’t you ever tell ANYBODY.’” Layne turned eighteen on August 22, 1985. At some point, he went to court and legally changed his name to Layne Thomas Staley—the name he would be known by for the rest of his life—to get rid of the Rutherford middle name he so disliked.

By this point, there were tensions between Layne and his mother. Pollock witnessed a few of their arguments when he was at the house. “His mother is very strong-willed and has her own definite opinions, and they clashed a lot with Layne, and Layne rebelled against that.”

What was Layne rebelling against?

“I would say that it pretty much centered around her sense of morality and how that connects with religion. I believe she was a Christian Scientist at the time.

“I have in my mind these images of sitting at the bar with him in the kitchen, witnessing a fight build up between the two of them and how he would get snarky with her, and how she would push back. I think I got a really good relationship with my father, but she reminded me of him in the sense that she had an agency to her that was like a man, and she wasn’t going to take any dissent whatsoever. The more he escalated with what he was saying, the more she would try to hammer him down.

“I felt, and I still to this day feel, that she was too hard on him and she really pushed him away in a lot of ways, in ways where I think she alienated him.” These tensions eventually resulted in Layne’s moving out of the house. Pollock does not recall the specific circumstances. “I don’t believe as I understood it from him that it was necessarily his choice. And at least in the moment, he was more than happy to go. But I remember his talking about it.”

Was it his impression that there was an ultimatum and Layne called it?

“Something along those lines, yes, I do believe so.”

“It was part of his life. It’s part of Nancy’s life. She’s got her viewpoint on what happened, Layne had his viewpoint on what happened, I have my viewpoint on what happened because I had been in their house during these occasions, and I think I described that well enough. I’ve also got my recollections on how it affected him, and what that was.”

Pollock tried to get his parents to take Layne in, but this wasn’t an option because Pollock’s disabled sister required assistance, so his parents couldn’t have another person there.

Jim Elmer agreed with Pollock’s assessment that there was an ultimatum, saying it was a culmination of discussions and arguments between Layne and both of his parents about his drug use. “We had several conversations,” Elmer recalled. “‘We don’t want drugs in the house. You’ve got two little sisters here, and this is going to be a drug-free house, and so if you want to continue taking drugs, then you can’t be here.’ So it didn’t happen just in one day, but Layne definitely knew what was expected of him in terms of the drug issue, and we just couldn’t bend on that for him.”

At around the same time, Sleze moved out of the Bergstrom family basement. According to James Bergstrom, it was Layne’s idea for the band to get a room at a new rehearsal space in Ballard. He thinks the idea was to have a private space with greater freedom to practice, and to be in the scene with the other bands. But there was another issue. Mrs. Bergstrom is described by her son and others as a very religious woman. According to Bergstrom, “My mom prayed for all of us,” he said with a laugh. “She loved everybody.” Layne had a jacket with a pentagram on it, which he would take off and sneak in when he came to the house so as not to offend her.8 Nick Pollock agreed with Bergstrom’s explanation for the move, but also said Layne did not like that Bergstrom’s mother was unhappy about their music.

Thus began Layne’s involvement with the Music Bank.