Only Axl knows for sure. But part of the answer may lie in the idea that Chinese Democracy had, thanks to its many delays, transformed from an album-slash-punchline into a vehicle for Axl to resolve festering disputes and debts tied to his six-year stint as a client of the Sanctuary Group. Sanctuary, an ambitious British artist management firm, spent years-–and a small fortune—trying to branch into various segments of the music business. As financial disaster loomed last year, Sanctuary sold itself to Universal Music Group—which, you may remember, is the same company that puts out Guns N’ Roses’ music.

Axl effectively fired Sanctuary as his management firm in December 2006, after months of speculation and public comments from the company’s top manager, Merck Mercuriadis, trumpeting the imminent release of Chinese Democracy. Rose, in an open letter posted on the band’s Web site, cited “an overall sense of a lack of respect by management for the band and crew and each individual's particular expertise” as part of the reasons behind Mercuriadis’ firing. (He also claimed that the album would come out March 6, 2007. The best intentions…)

But Axl couldn’t completely kick Sanctuary to the curb—during his time as a client, he struck deals with Sanctuary subsidiaries and affiliates that resulted in them overseeing his music-publishing rights and the production of Guns N’ Roses merchandise. And since at least early 2004 (when Universal’s Geffen Records made clear it wouldn’t underwrite additional production costs for Chinese Democracy) Sanctuary had functioned as Rose’s bank as well, deferring or delaying some commissions for managing him and offering other financial support. According to sources familiar with the situation, Axl’s tab reached well into the seven-figure mark.

By the time Axl announced his firing of Mercuriadis, not only had he piled up a debt to the management company, he had been dragged into a series of disputes—public and private—tied to the publishing and merch deals. In 2005, ex-bandmates Slash and Duff filed a lawsuit alleging that he had switched publishers without their approval and pocketed the royalties, and there was a separate feud brewing where they raised similar charges about his dealings with Sanctuary’s merchandise unit, Bravado.

But two crucial events changed the course of Rose’s career: Sanctuary’s buyout; and Rose finding his way to the management fold of music heavyweight Irving Azoff and longtime hard-rock mastermind Andy Gould. Universal was in a position to sweep away all of Rose’s disputes at once, and Azoff was keen to deal—as it turned out, the number to remember in the Chinese Democracy saga isn’t 17, but 360.

Word is it was Azoff who initiated the push to resolve all the issues at once, in a negotiation led on the Universal side by the corporation’s president, Zach Horowitz—though who was leveraging who depends on who you ask. After months of back and forth, a deal was worked out to resolve all of Axl’s disputes, with Chinese Democracy—and a nice “thanks for the retail exclusive” check from Best Buy—underwriting the peace agreements. Slash and Duff are receiving a little payback for their troubles from Axl’s Sanctuary deals, and Axl himself received a new advance, though the currently undisclosed figure is said to be somewhat less than it would have been if he didn’t have to give something up to settle the outstanding debts.

It’s possible that the satisfaction of clearing both his books and his legal docket all by simply stepping away from the mixing board and saying “OK, I’m done” had no bearing on Axl’s decision to finally put out Chinese Democracy. But is it likely?

(And, of course, whether Chinese Democracy finally being off Axl's back will result in Guns N’ Roses’ next album coming out before the end of this decade is a question that should at least wait until Sunday's one-day SoundScan estimates are out.)

Idolator's Guns N' Roses coverage [Idolator]

Kweller released his solo full-length debut Sha Sha on March 5 of that year. It was the perfect pop-rock album from start to finish, with few curveballs that would deem it unfit for commercial radio (unless you consider adorableness a liability)—but it went completely unnoticed by the Top 40 format. What, after all, does Nickelback's "How You Remind Me" have that Kweller's "Wasted & Ready" doesn't?

Malaise? Electric guitars? Some sort of reference to alcohol abuse? A vague sense of contempt toward women? "Wasted & Ready" has all of these things, but—and here's the important distinction—it is actually fun to listen to. Now, "fun" may be a subjective concept. So here's an experiment:

1. Put on "How You Remind Me" and sing along. You're pouting, aren't you? You feel weighed down somehow; you can feel your angsty goatee coming in, right?
2. Repeat step 1, only replace the Nickelback with "Wasted & Ready." Try it in a car, with the stereo's volume turned way up. It's got a nice buoyant quality that picks you up, and doesn't you down, Chad K.-style, after a rousing sing-along.

(And, just as a sort of afterthought—how is that Marcy Playground's "Sex and Candy" was the most ubiquitous song of the late '90s, but the line "Sex reminds her of eating spaghetti" never caught on?)

For yet another straightforward guitar rock Ben Kweller track that should have made it to at least rock radio, I give you "Commerce, TX":

What's wrong with this song? Is the line "I got a pet hedgehog/Drinkin' Jager all day" just too intellectual for the masses?

While those two songs conquer "How You Remind Me" in the electric guitar league, the track off of Sha Sha perhaps most deserving of radio domination is the unbearably sweet piano-driven "Falling":

(Speaking of unbearably sweet: Ben Kweller and a baby!)

For the four minutes that this song encompasses Ben Kweller are an amazing fluke of pop music, a perfect combination of Billy Joel and Carole King, seemingly poised to save us all from the depths of muddy alt-rock forever. And yet, somehow, millions of teen girls were never given the opportunity to let themselves get caught up in the bridge-to-chorus crescendo where the drums slowly build and the violins swell and Kweller sweetly declares "Wanna hold you like never before, 'cause we're falling and I love you more and more."

It's way too late now to save 2002, but here's hoping that someday commercial radio will stop short-changing listeners so severely and give artists like Ben Kweller even a solitary spin—or, at the very least, scale down the Nickelback. For everyone's sake.

I remember working at the offices of my college newspaper when Green came out. I ran down to the record store, paid like $12.99 for it, brought it back and threw it in the CD player. Thirty-odd minutes later, it was over, and that's about the best thing I can say about it. It was underwhelming in every possible way (though it has slightly improved with age; "Island in the Sun" is a karaoke fave) and right then, I should've known. Weezer and I were done.

But I did not know how to quit them. They got another, even more "rock"-looking bassist, made another album I didn't like (Maladroit, which, to be fair, almost no one liked) and started to resemble Weezer in name only. They took another break, announced that they were working with Rick Rubin,, and pulled me back in once again. "Surely," I thought, "this album will be great."

Only it wasn't. It was Make Believe, a record that only pushed Cuomo's arena-rock aspirations further into the spotlight. When I spoke to Weezer at the kickoff of their tour with the Foo Fighters (held, somewhat fittingly, in an arena in suburban Georgia), they are strangely standoffish when I mention the good old days, and Cuomo gives me just 13 minutes — total — for a sit-down interview, because he must go meditate before the concert begins. And I began to think that maybe Weezer weren't the problem — perhaps it was me.

Actually maybe the "meditate before the concert" was the red flag and the real problem is that flotation tank jerk Rick Rubin clearly flooded Cuomo's brain with a steady diet of mumbo babble and crystals and chakras and herbs and spices. Have you listened to the excruciatingly vacuous "vulnerable" lyrics on most of Make Believe lately? (It's okay if you haven't.) Forget the suddenly-no-longer-faux headbanger riffs because the slippery slope here was actually self-actualization on wax. Dude needs to relearn the value of shame and/or heavily coded metaphor and/or non-personal bubblegum tunes. At least the "it's all Rubin's fault" theory is the one I'm sticking with so as to not to be bummed every time I'm forced to compare a new Weezer album (coming soon!) with Pinkerton. (For the record, I do not share this guy's middling opinion of the Green Album [yay] and Maladroit [sure, why not].)

Why Can't Fans Quit Weezer? [MTV]

There may have been other factors involved, but I concluded that pants were indeed the major underlying cause. As a long-time fan I've witnessed several fashion phases of the band, the most prominent of which has been Jenny's gravitation towards hot pants. At first this was badass: sexually confident, stylish in an ugly kind of way. As long as the music was good, I'd have accepted bright green leotards, leopard print halters, anything at all.

But as soon as Under the Blacklight soured their charm for me, I became suspicious of the hot pants. Logic tells me that if something bad happens at the same time change occurs, then this change is directly to blame. Therefore what defeated Rilo Kiley was not "stylistic evolution," but rather an article of clothing. The following graph illustrates my point:

Keep in mind that this is a very general representation of the decline. In reality, 2002 to 2003 would be on level with, if not above 2001, but that's a different post entirely. To further illustrate my point, here are samples of their music from each progression:

"Pictures of Success" from Take-Offs and Landings (2001):

"Capturing Moods" from The Execution of All Things (2002):

Side note: this is a great fan vid!

"Does He Love You?" from More Adventurous (2004):

"The Moneymaker" from Under the Blacklight (2007):

Clearly something has gone wrong. Whether pants are truly to blame is debatable. But you have to admit, the correlation is eerie.