Los Angeles, October 25, 2025 – In a candid conversation on Eddie Trunk Live, guitar virtuoso Jake E. Lee, best known for his searing riffs on Ozzy Osbourne’s Bark at the Moon and Ultimate Sin albums, finally set the record straight on years of swirling rumors about his post-fame life. The 68-year-old rocker, who largely retreated from the spotlight in the mid-1990s, opened up about misconceptions, the emotional toll of the industry, and his renewed enthusiasm for music with his band Red Dragon Cartel.
Lee, speaking with a mix of wry humor and unflinching honesty, tackled the wild tales that had painted him as a reclusive figure far removed from rock stardom. One persistent story claimed he had traded in his Stratocaster for a wrench, eking out a living as a car mechanic. “Not true,” Lee chuckled, “but I do like to tinker on cars.” Another rumor suggested he had spiraled into a debilitating drug haze during his hiatus. While acknowledging his imperfections—”I’m not an angel”—Lee pushed back firmly: “I never got to a point where I was down and out. It was somewhat responsible drug abuse, I guess.” His lighthearted delivery underscored a man comfortable in his skin, unburdened by the need to revise history.
The interview, hosted by veteran broadcaster Eddie Trunk, revealed Lee’s initial wariness toward the format. “I didn’t particularly trust you in the beginning,” he admitted. “I thought it could be one of those ‘come on my show and let me make fun of you’ situations.” Yet, the exchange proved therapeutic, allowing Lee to reflect on the darker chapters that led to his self-imposed exile.
Central to his story is the heartbreak of Badlands, the bluesy hard rock outfit he formed in 1989 after leaving Osbourne’s band. Badlands, which released three acclaimed albums before disbanding in 1993, was “my baby,” Lee said, its dissolution due to mounting financial pressures leaving him devastated. “It broke my heart,” he shared. The grunge era’s arrival only compounded his disillusionment. “Back then, I think Jake E. Lee’s shelf life expired,” he explained. “There comes a time when you’re just not cool anymore, and it just wasn’t cool to be me.”
Compounding this were “a lot of bad experiences and relationships in the music business,” Lee confessed, fostering a deep-seated distrust. “You tend to not trust anybody.” A self-described private individual who shuns the limelight—”I’m not one of those guys who needs attention. I tend to shun it”—he chose to “bow out gracefully” after a career he deemed fulfilling. For nearly three decades, Lee focused on personal pursuits, far from the chaos of touring and label politics.
But reinvention, not nostalgia, now fuels his fire. Red Dragon Cartel, his current project, represents a clean slate. “I’m feeling really great… Everything is looking real rosy right now,” Lee enthused. The band has been deep in rehearsals, honing a sound he describes as “just a great rock and roll band.” This isn’t a victory lap through the ’80s catalog, he stressed: “It’s not Jake E. Lee going out there and reprising the glory days. It’s a brand new band, and I can’t wait for people to hear it.” While specifics on upcoming releases remain under wraps, Lee’s palpable excitement hints at a potent return for one of hard rock’s most distinctive axe-men.
Fans have long speculated about Lee’s whereabouts, but this interview paints a portrait of resilience and quiet contentment. As he steps back into the fray, Jake E. Lee proves that some legends only get better with age—rumors be damned.
