The new Supergroup

Velvet Revolver, whose members come from Guns N' Roses and Stone Temple Pilots, rocks Tucson on Aug. 21.

Relative unknown Dave Kushner (at left) rounds out an otherwise marquee-friendly cast, with Matt Sorum , Scott Weiland, Slash and Duff. Some bands - like some guys, according to Rod Stewart - have all the luck. Some are prettier than others (Duran Duran). Some are better musicians (Van Halen). Some are more personable (AC/DC). Some are better dressers (The Hives).
Then there are the luckiest of all - the celebrity musician bands. The me-me-me-and-yes-me bands. The multiple tour buses, I-drink-only-wine-now, equal-spotlight-time supergroups. That kind maiden called Time works with strong, strong forces of nature to create these capital-S Supergroups. The Traveling Wilburys. Asia. Damn Yankees. The Firm, I guess. And Velvet Revolver.

Axl Rose tried to build his own Supergroup, but it didn't take. So Slash, top-hat in tow, re-joined ranks with his Guns N' Roses colleagues Duff and Matt Sorum, and, eventually, coaxed a fragile Scott Weiland into a new millennial Supergroup.

As in many such RockGod bands, there's the guy who's there but not. The solid musician - heck-a-doodle-do, amazing musician - there based on mere talent, not name recognition. This guy has no name recognition.

In Velvet Revolver, his name, you will soon forget, is Dave Kushner. He matters. He wouldn't be there if he didn't. Slash and Co. could get Jimi Hendrix to time travel to them if they wanted. They chose Dave.

Kushner entered the fold long before Weiland, during the time the others practiced five days a week writing song after song until they had some 60 to rehearse. It took some 10 months for ex-Stone Temple Pilot Weiland to stagger into the studio, 10 months filled with round-the-clock listening to demos sent in by wannabe lead singers and some live tryouts.

"It was pretty brutal. The process sucked," Kushner says, reached at his L.A. home.

The process of waiting for Weiland go through rehab after joining the band likely sucked as well, but he was a Supersinger worth waiting for.

"The first day he came in and sang on 'Set Me Free,' we were like, 'OK, this is the guy.' That's why we had to get him in the band and work through all the arrests and stuff," Kushner says.

And at least Weiland, our most-guilty-pleasure frontman these days, got his rehab in up front. Now the band can merely push itself on to the logical: album No. 2.

The fivesome is set to enter the studio in September to begin recording its follow-up to "Contraband," an album that, as with many debuts, saw a band still forming its sound. A lot of STP and Guns N' Roses was still present, a lot of which likely had to do with Weiland's late entry. Plus, Kushner notes that the months of writing songs sans vocalist saw the four struggle for a direction.

"We had so many songs. We had songs that sounded like everything from Faith No More to the Rolling Stones."

As the group logged 14 months on the road promoting "Contraband," Kushner says, a lot of writing was done during soundchecks, and all five have been writing over their summer break.

"In this band, it's pretty democratic. Anyone can come in with a part," Kushner says. "I've been in bands where the parts pretty much got shot down immediately. This is the first band I've been in where everyone was willing to at least try."

Having an audience of Slash et al. for your creative ideas might seem like a dream to many a guitar player, but one that likely ends with said guitarist running out screaming, naked and humiliated. But while Kushner is the nonfamous member of Velvet Revolver, he says didn't feel nervous based on any kind of celebrity worship.

After all, he had known Slash since junior high school. And Kushner had been playing with Duff around the time the Velvet Revolver chatter started up.

"When I first played with those guys, it was a little like, 'wow' intimidating. But more on a musical level," Kushner says. "It wasn't the stature of who they were but the musicianship that was intimidating. And, at a point Izzy (Stradlin, GNR's other original guitarist) had written some songs and he was on board, so it was four guys from Guns N' Roses, and it was intimidating because I didn't really know what would happen."

What would happen is that Izzy would not officially join the band. (He has occasionally joined them on stage.) That left Kushner to complement Slash's trademark arena-sized riffs and fretwork gymnastics. Again, it's easy to imagine many an insecure player fleeing, guitar between his legs. But Kushner says that his interplay with Slash has been pretty natural from the start.

"It's the right balance of paying attention to what he's doing but also not paying attention to what he's doing. I don't know, some people get intimidated and just play along with the bass or try too hard or freak out, but I just kind of did what I thought sounded good. As a guitar player, I didn't want to fade into the background just because it was Slash," he says. "I just do what I do. It sounds so goofy, but I guess that's why it works. ... And half the time I can't even hear him because Duff's bass is so loud."

Kushner says he doesn't know who will produce the next album - "we've been talking with some different people and just tossing ideas around" - or when the album will be released. So, we'll have to accept some rock hyperbole:

"We're just going to try to expand on what we've already done," Kushner says. "Now that we've been a band, the record will be that much better."