When Travis Meeks of Days of the New entered rehab at the end of last month, seeking treatment for a methamphetamine addiction, he was, in his own words, "fucked up." Exhausted and struggling, he placed a call to his A&R man at Interscope, who in turn arranged for Meeks to spend a month at a Pasadena rehab center to clean up and get his life back in order.

Over the last twenty-seven days, Meeks has been living by the facility's rules -- he's had a roommate, done chores and been permitted one visitor a day. On one of the bad days he smashed a $6,000 Taylor guitar.

Today, Meeks returns to his home in Louisville. And Friday, in Cincinnati, he'll take the stage to play his first concert of the year.

Last week, nearing the end of his stay, Meeks talked about his drug problem, the tryout with the post Gn'R band Velvet Revolver and his post-rehab plans, both for Days of the New and for his own new start. He even borrowed his roommate's guitar and previewed a couple new songs.

Was there a specific incident that made you want to come here?

A using friend told me to go to rehab. I was lying in bed, going "I'm tired, all I'm going to do is sit here and die." I called Mark Williams, my A&R guy, and said, "Yeah, about that recovery," and he put me with some people. My dad's a recovering alcoholic and addict. I grew up around it. I got too deep in my head. I wanted to pick up where concept albums left off, where people thought they were going but never really ended up. I wanted to give the vibes of standing in a field, no one around and the wind hitting you a certain way. I wanted to capture memories and vibes and put it into records. You get that vibe from Smashing Pumpkins, the Mellon Collie album, certain elements will give you that energy. Led Zeppelin IV. It's real, and I just wanted to do that. But I started realizing all the information I had, I couldn't apply it. That's when I really had to turn and ask for help. That's one of the things I've never done. I've never asked somebody for help. That's a humbling thing for me to even say.

How bad off were you?

When I was fucked up, I got real deep. I was encoding words and stuff. Like that helicopter that just went by -- I was like, "Oh, that's a message of hell." You know, because it says helicopter. Why would the English language name these things the way they did? I was trying to encode stuff and shit. I was trying to figure out shit. Let me tell you one thing: There's nothing to figure out.

What was your Velvet Revolver tryout like?

I was out of my head. I respect them, but they said there aren't any good rock singers out there. I laughed. I just felt like there was no growth there. Guns n' Roses was all about taking chances. They didn't know what they were doing when they made Appetite for Destruction. That's what was great about it. They were taking chances.

What have they been teaching you here?

Unlearn. Unlearn that hate. Because I came out with hate. On that first record, I was very pissed off, and then my second record was just like, "No, I'm a perfectionist," and the third album was like, "Help, help!" I've done a lot of things and I'm just living now. I'm trying to have a good time. I don't care if I have to jump off cliffs and shit and just float. I'm learning how to go with my flaws. Walk with my flaws, instead of being so judgmental about myself all the time.

What's been the worst part about rehab?

I can't mop the floor. I'll do dishes -- I just will not mop the fucking floor. I just do not like floors. I don't see no progress. That floor looks the same. I don't get it. Am I growing here? What the fuck! I'm making someone else feel like I'm doing something. I went through my life doing it my way.

What are your plans for when you go home?

Me and my dad going to do some chill time, hang out a little bit. I got a show coming up real soon, the Fourth of July in Cincinnati. I've been thinking, what am I doing to do? I'm just playing with a percussionist. And it's really intense and I enjoy those shows. I did a week with the Doors that way. You're alone, what are you going to say to these people? They're all looking at you.

Are you nervous about going out there?

No, I'm not. I've worn that nerve out. Worn it out. What can happen? I've jumped off stages and got mad. I've done so much stupid shit, I wore myself out. I'm glad I got through all that shit though, and I'm not ashamed. I feel guilty for some of the people that got let down and got to see me act like an idiot sometimes, but it's not that I think I was an idiot -- I was growing up. I had good intent.

What's your plan for the new record?

I'm just going to do it. Flaws, leave 'em alone. Look at the Metallica album. It's so amazing. It's just so wrong, but it's so right. What better bunch of guys -- and I toured with those guys -- to do that. They worked really hard . . . I'm ready to just do the music balls to the wall. I wrote a song saying if I give it all away then I won't have nothing left to give you later on. It's all about continuing to give and the process. That's the reward -- being able to give and seeing your gift come to life through other people and not trying to control it so much. I just want to do some good. It's like in Pulp Fiction, when Samuel L. Jackson says, "I just want to go out and live the life of the righteous man."

COLIN DEVENISH
(June 30, 2003)