16. This is still a pretty excellent band name, all things considered.
17. The most interesting thing about Exit 99 was something that didn't happen in 1991: An unknown group scheduled a date to play there in the middle of the week, but they canceled at the last minute, supposedly because their debut album was starting to get a little media attention and their itinerary was being reconstructed. This was a minor tragedy, since (a) the show would have probably drawn less than twelve people, and (b) the band was Pearl Jam.
18. This person still lives in Fargo, and he still hassles me whenever I go back. His zine was pretty great (or at least it seemed that way at the time). He had a feud with the band Orange 17, so he was consistently publishing a list called, "Things I would rather do than see Orange 17 perform live." I particularly remember one of these lists, because #5 was, "See a movie with Forum Forum film critic Chuck Klosterman" and #6 was, "Have the worst sex of my life, get AIDS, and die." This remains the most insightful literary criticism I've ever received. film critic Chuck Klosterman" and #6 was, "Have the worst sex of my life, get AIDS, and die." This remains the most insightful literary criticism I've ever received.
19. This is the guy I sold my used CDs to. He would give me four dollars for almost anything, including reggae compilations. As far as I'm concerned, that qualified him as an expert on just about everything. He knew (and knows) a metric ton about music, but I think he eventually became a plumber.
20. Fuck. I was a really, really wretched person.
21. Actually, they were.
22. What made Orange 17 awesome was how so many people in Fargo hated them for their success. This is a band who never made an album, never went on tour, and never made any money. However, they once opened for Ted Nugent and Bad Company at the Fargodome (they were the replacement for a national band who got sick). In a way, Orange 17 truly were a little ahead of their time; they loved hair metal ironically when absolutely nobody else did, and-had they emerged ten years later-I suppose they could have been a second-tier version of the Darkness. The band was also hurt by the fact that vocalist Karl Qualey-as mentioned above-looked too much like Kurt Cobain, and everyone thought he was doing it on purpose. In truth, it was just a weird coincidence. He really just needed a different barber.
23. And by "scary" I meant "bald."
24. Played the same songs, though.
25. I never saw this band, ever.
26. Inspired by Tiger Trap!
27. This was true. The drummer's last name was Jensen, and he (and his older brother) symbolized key elements of small-town, North Dakota basketball folklore: the noble tradition of high-scoring five-foot-six-inch jump shooters. These two Jensen brothers would come off the bench for Milnor, hide in the corner against zone defenses, and inevitably drain three or four 3-pointers every single night. It was profoundly frustrating for all their opponents, because those Jensen boys were short and slow and (kind of) chubby. But undersized fat kids often thrive on the hardwood floors of rural North Dakota. There was another school in a community called Marion, ND, that had two families with the surname Trapp (these families might have even been named "Von Trapp," although that might be wishful thinking on my part). This was a tiny town-maybe 250 people total-and their high school gym was the size of a four-car garage. It was probably only sixty feet long. As such, these Trapp boys-all of whom were under five foot eight-would regularly launch jump shots from half court in the middle of a game. This was impossible to defend, because your natural psychological instinct was not to cover any kid inexplicably shooting from beyond midcourt. The most talented Trapp was a cocky, curly-haired fellow named Tori Trapp, and he averaged something like thirty-three points a game without ever going inside the lane. The summer after he graduated from high school, Tori Trapp made out with a girl at a keg party who would later become my girlfriend. I guess I have a lot of unresolved issues with this dude.
28. This was gleaned from their handwritten press release.
29. Now defunct.
30. As opposed to an Adult-Oriented Skater band (AOS).
31. For some reason, I really tried to ram this point home.
Q: You are given the chance to control what your legacy will be. You can't You are given the chance to control what your legacy will be. You can't specifically specifically dictate how you will be recalled by future generations, but You are given the chance to choose between two general idioms of legacies. dictate how you will be recalled by future generations, but You are given the chance to choose between two general idioms of legacies.
The first kind of legacy ("option A") would be that you lived your days as a good, honest person who worked hard and contributed to society. However, the limitation of this legacy will be that almost no one will know or remember this information (including future members of your own extended family). Most average people will never even know you lived.
The second kind of legacy ("option B") will be familiar to almost everyone in the world for centuries to come. However, this legacy will be extremely strange and neutral; it will be an obscure fact that has almost nothing to do with your tangible day-to-day life (the best comparison being the legacy of General Tso Tsungtang, an extremely gifted and successful military leader during the seventeenth-century Qing Dynasty who is now exclusively remembered as the namesake for the popular Chinese dish General Tso's chicken).
Which legacy do you want?
Singularity Remember Jessica McClure? That little Texas girl who fell down a well in 1987? She's seventeen now, and I'm assuming she's pretty goddamn sick of people bringing that incident up. And I'm sure they do it constantly. I bet old friends call her and say things like "Oh, hi, Jessica. Funny story. Last night, I was listening to a Terence Trent D'Arby album, and when I heard that song 'Wishing Well,' I totally thought about the time you fell into that well, so I thought I'd give you a jingle." This is the kind of thing that happens when people associate one event with your entire life.
I have a similar problem: everyone I've ever met seems to know that I like KISS. Everyone. I have come to realize that liking KISS will ultimately be the only thing anybody will remember about me. I have no doubt that if I died today, whoever was to engrave my tombstone would chisel something along the lines of Charles J. Klosterman 19722005: "He preferred Animalize Animalize to Lick It Up. Lick It Up."
The problem with being closely associated with KISS (or with any singular entity) is not that people know this particular fact. The problem is that people assume there are no other facts (about anything) that would possibly interest you. Acquaintances are endlessly telling me rudimentary trivia about KISS, which is a little hard to reconcile, since these same people inevitably tell me things they must assume I already know. For example, if someone is aware that I know which tracks on Destroyer Destroyer include uncredited guitar playing by Dick Wagner ("Sweet Pain," "Great Expectations," and "Flaming Youth"), why would this same person feel obligated to inform me that KISS is currently touring with Aerosmith? I mean, I get VH1, too. I own a microwave. I don't live at the bottom of a well. But these are the kinds of things people feel they must tell me. include uncredited guitar playing by Dick Wagner ("Sweet Pain," "Great Expectations," and "Flaming Youth"), why would this same person feel obligated to inform me that KISS is currently touring with Aerosmith? I mean, I get VH1, too. I own a microwave. I don't live at the bottom of a well. But these are the kinds of things people feel they must tell me.
Consequently, I was not surprised to receive somewhere between six and eighteen thousand e-mails the day after Gene Simmons announced that he was releasing a new solo album next year and that one of the songs ("Waiting for the Morning Light") would be cowritten by Bob Dylan. This is significant news to someone like me, a longtime lobbyist for KISS songs that fall outside the conventional KISS paradigm. I'm a big supporter of the (highly Advanced) collaborations between KISS and Lou Reed on the 1981 concept album Music from the Elder, Music from the Elder, a work that I consider the fourth-best KISS studio effort of all time. I do not find the Simmons-Dylan collaboration surprising. In fact, it shouldn't be surprising to anyone. Their partnership simply illustrates that rock 'n' roll has reached its logical conclusion and no longer needs to exist. a work that I consider the fourth-best KISS studio effort of all time. I do not find the Simmons-Dylan collaboration surprising. In fact, it shouldn't be surprising to anyone. Their partnership simply illustrates that rock 'n' roll has reached its logical conclusion and no longer needs to exist.
Here is the entire history of rock music, recounted in one paragraph: rock music did not exist until the release of Meet the Beatles Meet the Beatles in January 1964. From that time until 1970, the Beatles were simultaneously the most artistically gifted and commercially successful rock artists on the planet. Then they broke up. And at that point, rock split into two opposing ideologies; there were now two kinds of music. The prime directive of the first kind of rock was to be meaningful and important; the prime directive of the second was to entertain people and move product. The first category comprises elements (Springsteen, punk rock, early U2, Chris Carrabba, etc.) that followed a template built by Dylan in the 1960s. The second category comprises things (Elton John, disco, everything the Stones did post in January 1964. From that time until 1970, the Beatles were simultaneously the most artistically gifted and commercially successful rock artists on the planet. Then they broke up. And at that point, rock split into two opposing ideologies; there were now two kinds of music. The prime directive of the first kind of rock was to be meaningful and important; the prime directive of the second was to entertain people and move product. The first category comprises elements (Springsteen, punk rock, early U2, Chris Carrabba, etc.) that followed a template built by Dylan in the 1960s. The second category comprises things (Elton John, disco, everything the Stones did postSome Girls, Michael Jackson, et al.) that followed the path KISS chose when they formed in 1973. This era includes two exceptions, which are Led Zeppelin and Prince; everything else fits into either category A or category B. And that is the entire history of rock music, completely condensed into one paragraph. Michael Jackson, et al.) that followed the path KISS chose when they formed in 1973. This era includes two exceptions, which are Led Zeppelin and Prince; everything else fits into either category A or category B. And that is the entire history of rock music, completely condensed into one paragraph.
But now, that's all over. Rock 'n' roll has come full circle: the genre's most genuine, most credible individual has joined forces with the genre's most entrepreneurial, most self-consciously contrived individual. Rock 'n' roll has not been destroyed; it has been solved. This, of course, will make it significantly harder to put out a rock magazine, but I'm sure we'll think of something. Tune in next month, when this column will begin covering ... oh, I don't know. Maybe horse racing.
-SPIN, 2004
Oh, the Guilt 1 It's fascinating and stupid to watch adults destroy things on purpose. It's a sensation that applies to a multitude of stimuli: monster truck shows, the dynamiting of sports arenas, race riots, Van Halen's musical legacy, eggs, governments, and temporary gods. And guitars. Always guitars. You absolutely cannot destroy enough guitars within the course of your career; Pete Townshend tried, but that still didn't stop him from getting wrongly accused of pedophilia or thinking that "Squeeze Box" was clever. People wreck guitars to illustrate how important guitars are supposed to be, aggressively reminding us that these are the machines that kill fascists. Sadly, this axiom has proven to be mostly inaccurate; according to the most recent edition of the It's fascinating and stupid to watch adults destroy things on purpose. It's a sensation that applies to a multitude of stimuli: monster truck shows, the dynamiting of sports arenas, race riots, Van Halen's musical legacy, eggs, governments, and temporary gods. And guitars. Always guitars. You absolutely cannot destroy enough guitars within the course of your career; Pete Townshend tried, but that still didn't stop him from getting wrongly accused of pedophilia or thinking that "Squeeze Box" was clever. People wreck guitars to illustrate how important guitars are supposed to be, aggressively reminding us that these are the machines that kill fascists. Sadly, this axiom has proven to be mostly inaccurate; according to the most recent edition of the World Book Almanac, World Book Almanac, the number of fascists killed in guitar-related assassinations continues to hover near zero. the number of fascists killed in guitar-related assassinations continues to hover near zero.
"It seemed like Nirvana had had to smash their instruments," Mudhoney front man Mark Arm supposedly said about Kurt Cobain. "It was really dumb. A roadie would remove all of the mics from the drum kit so they wouldn't get hurt. What the fuck?" Arm was talking about the '92 version of Nirvana, a group who had not yet begun recording to smash their instruments," Mudhoney front man Mark Arm supposedly said about Kurt Cobain. "It was really dumb. A roadie would remove all of the mics from the drum kit so they wouldn't get hurt. What the fuck?" Arm was talking about the '92 version of Nirvana, a group who had not yet begun recording In Utero In Utero but who'd already begun to lose track of how rich they were. However, the band had been preoccupied with destroying their own equipment long before their fiscal windfall: Nirvana annihilated their set at a show at Evergreen College way back in 1988. but who'd already begun to lose track of how rich they were. However, the band had been preoccupied with destroying their own equipment long before their fiscal windfall: Nirvana annihilated their set at a show at Evergreen College way back in 1988.1 They would regularly wreck their own possessions while touring in support of They would regularly wreck their own possessions while touring in support of Bleach, Bleach, an album that (initially) sold thirty-five thousand copies and only appealed to slow-witted stoners and big-picture A & R representatives. "When we started smashing our equipment it was out of frustration, because I felt like we weren't playing very well," Cobain explained. "People expect it also. Give the kids what they want." an album that (initially) sold thirty-five thousand copies and only appealed to slow-witted stoners and big-picture A & R representatives. "When we started smashing our equipment it was out of frustration, because I felt like we weren't playing very well," Cobain explained. "People expect it also. Give the kids what they want."
This is true. This is true, sort of.
2 In Utero In Utero was the first album actively promoted as a product I needed to buy was the first album actively promoted as a product I needed to buy because because I was not going to like it. The wanting and the hating were somehow related. That's all I remember about waiting for the release of that record: Over and over again, I was informed about how much I was going to hate this album and how I would never want to play it, supposedly because it would be so challenging and corrosive that it wouldn't sound like music. It would have no relationship to melody or metal or capitalism. There seemed to be a lot of people arguing about this possibility in public (and they were always the same people), and they would all inevitably say the exact opposite of whatever they had allegedly argued in the past (in fact, it always seemed like their contradictory statements could only be found retrospectively in the denials). Following a lead in the I was not going to like it. The wanting and the hating were somehow related. That's all I remember about waiting for the release of that record: Over and over again, I was informed about how much I was going to hate this album and how I would never want to play it, supposedly because it would be so challenging and corrosive that it wouldn't sound like music. It would have no relationship to melody or metal or capitalism. There seemed to be a lot of people arguing about this possibility in public (and they were always the same people), and they would all inevitably say the exact opposite of whatever they had allegedly argued in the past (in fact, it always seemed like their contradictory statements could only be found retrospectively in the denials). Following a lead in the Chicago Tribune, Newsweek Chicago Tribune, Newsweek raised doubt over whether Geffen Records would allow the album to be released as it was recorded. This was during an era when people still cared what raised doubt over whether Geffen Records would allow the album to be released as it was recorded. This was during an era when people still cared what Newsweek Newsweek reported about rock music. The vortex of the controversy stemmed from Cobain's selection of Steve Albini as the reported about rock music. The vortex of the controversy stemmed from Cobain's selection of Steve Albini as the In Utero In Utero producer-an abrasive, ethical man whose legacy is built on crafting sonically authentic records that normal people hate. The word that kept being connected to the project was producer-an abrasive, ethical man whose legacy is built on crafting sonically authentic records that normal people hate. The word that kept being connected to the project was unlistenable unlistenable. The vocals were going to be "low in the mix" (which meant nothing to me at the time) and everything was apparently going to sound like the Jesus Lizard covering a Pixies album inside Mechagodzilla (except not good). Cobain insisted In Utero In Utero would sell "a quarter as much" as 1991's would sell "a quarter as much" as 1991's Nevermind, Nevermind, a nonarbitrary estimate that could be taken to mean Cobain figured 75 percent of his audience did not care about incendiary sonic experiences. "The grown-ups don't like it," he told Nirvana biographer Michael Azerrad, the assumption being that "the grown-ups" were the faceless executives at Geffen who had (somehow) hoped that Nirvana was going to bring in twelve new songs that sounded like Aerosmith's "Crazy." The accuracy of this assertion remains unclear. Later, in 1994, Cobain delivered an uncharacteristically lucid and relaxed interview to a French video outlet called a nonarbitrary estimate that could be taken to mean Cobain figured 75 percent of his audience did not care about incendiary sonic experiences. "The grown-ups don't like it," he told Nirvana biographer Michael Azerrad, the assumption being that "the grown-ups" were the faceless executives at Geffen who had (somehow) hoped that Nirvana was going to bring in twelve new songs that sounded like Aerosmith's "Crazy." The accuracy of this assertion remains unclear. Later, in 1994, Cobain delivered an uncharacteristically lucid and relaxed interview to a French video outlet called Metal Express Metal Express where he merely said, "I think the general consensus was that the album may not sell as much, so they were concerned with that. But they never, ever once put any pressure on us. They just basically told us their feelings about the record. Most people don't like the record. A lot of my friends don't even like the record." He seemed intellectually satisfied by that distaste. And while I'm sure the label would have been happier if Cobain had written a bunch of power ballads and asked Bob Rock to make them sparkle, it's not like the grown-ups hammered him in the press-David Geffen personally called where he merely said, "I think the general consensus was that the album may not sell as much, so they were concerned with that. But they never, ever once put any pressure on us. They just basically told us their feelings about the record. Most people don't like the record. A lot of my friends don't even like the record." He seemed intellectually satisfied by that distaste. And while I'm sure the label would have been happier if Cobain had written a bunch of power ballads and asked Bob Rock to make them sparkle, it's not like the grown-ups hammered him in the press-David Geffen personally called Newsweek Newsweek to complain about the accuracy of their report. My suspicion is that the label merely wanted an album that large numbers of people might like, and they did not think such a desire precluded the band from making an album that was valid. to complain about the accuracy of their report. My suspicion is that the label merely wanted an album that large numbers of people might like, and they did not think such a desire precluded the band from making an album that was valid.
But Nirvana (or at least Cobain, and possibly bassist Krist Novoselic) did not agree. They could not reconcile the dissonance between mass success and artistic merit; interestingly, they assumed combining mass success with with dissonance was the only way to salvage any merit at all. And this reality requires some very weird questions: Why did dissonance was the only way to salvage any merit at all. And this reality requires some very weird questions: Why did In Utero In Utero need to be conventionally "bad" in order for it to be exceptionally good? And-perhaps more importantly-why did that fraction of badness only matter if people knew need to be conventionally "bad" in order for it to be exceptionally good? And-perhaps more importantly-why did that fraction of badness only matter if people knew that the badness was intentional that the badness was intentional?
3 Nirvana began recording Nirvana began recording In Utero In Utero in February of 1993, the same month the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms raided the Mount Carmel compound in Waco, Texas, the home of self-styled doomsday prophet David Koresh and his disciples in the Branch Davidian cult. The raid resulted in the death of six Davidians and four agents, spawning a fifty-one-day siege that ended with over seventy people dying in a fire that was started (or inadvertently created) by a military assault on the compound, ordered by U.S. attorney general Janet Reno. This armed offensive against private U.S. citizens was seen as the last resort against Koresh and his followers after the ATF had run out of alternatives, one of which was bombarding the compound with high-volume recordings of rabbits being slaughtered. I have never listened to the sounds of dying rabbits, so I don't really know what that sounds like; I suspect the vocals are not low in the mix. "We will never know whether there was a better solution," Reno eventually testified in 1995, although one could argue that any solution that did not involve the government burning people alive might have been worth considering. in February of 1993, the same month the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms raided the Mount Carmel compound in Waco, Texas, the home of self-styled doomsday prophet David Koresh and his disciples in the Branch Davidian cult. The raid resulted in the death of six Davidians and four agents, spawning a fifty-one-day siege that ended with over seventy people dying in a fire that was started (or inadvertently created) by a military assault on the compound, ordered by U.S. attorney general Janet Reno. This armed offensive against private U.S. citizens was seen as the last resort against Koresh and his followers after the ATF had run out of alternatives, one of which was bombarding the compound with high-volume recordings of rabbits being slaughtered. I have never listened to the sounds of dying rabbits, so I don't really know what that sounds like; I suspect the vocals are not low in the mix. "We will never know whether there was a better solution," Reno eventually testified in 1995, although one could argue that any solution that did not involve the government burning people alive might have been worth considering.
Koresh was a provocative public orator who could quote any passage of the Bible verbatim, instantly connecting it with whatever subject he happened to be discussing at the time. He had a lot of Cobainesque qualities: He had shoulder-length hair, played guitar, had a bad childhood, often complained of stomach problems, and had troubling taste in women. (He is alleged to have slept with a woman who was sixty-eight and a girl who was twelve, although the state of Texas never had enough evidence to press statutory rape charges. It should also be noted that neither of those females was crazy enough to let a total stranger suckle their nipples in a Wendy's.) Like Cobain, he became obsessed with guns, appealed to disenfranchised eccentrics who felt cast out by society, and played the central role in his own demise; unlike Cobain, he was dangerously self-confident and (at least a little) insane. Writing about Koresh for The Washington Post The Washington Post in the wake of the Waco disaster, neuropsychiatrist Richard Restack cited Karl Menninger's chief indicators of psychosis: "preoccupation with persecution, usually associated with grandiosity; more or less continuous erratic, disorganized excitement accompanied by irascibility; bizarre delusional ideas coupled with obvious indifference to social expectations; and pervasive convictions of evil or wickedness in self or others." These were indeed the qualities of David Koresh, and the reason we classify him as "insane" is because he cultivated those qualities himself. But those were also the core qualities of Cobain; the difference is that they were mostly manufactured by society (and were therefore real). Cobain trusted almost no one. He felt like people were viewing him as messianic; he thought they were searching for symbolism in his most minor actions. All of this was true. He was expected to entertain thousands of people in a cathartic, chaotic musical explosion and then answer inane questions about what that performance meant. He was a heavy drug user who could not comprehend why people liked his music, or even that he was under no social obligation to continue producing it. He saw "wickedness" in things that were not wicked in any significant way (the music of Pearl Jam, generally positive coverage in in the wake of the Waco disaster, neuropsychiatrist Richard Restack cited Karl Menninger's chief indicators of psychosis: "preoccupation with persecution, usually associated with grandiosity; more or less continuous erratic, disorganized excitement accompanied by irascibility; bizarre delusional ideas coupled with obvious indifference to social expectations; and pervasive convictions of evil or wickedness in self or others." These were indeed the qualities of David Koresh, and the reason we classify him as "insane" is because he cultivated those qualities himself. But those were also the core qualities of Cobain; the difference is that they were mostly manufactured by society (and were therefore real). Cobain trusted almost no one. He felt like people were viewing him as messianic; he thought they were searching for symbolism in his most minor actions. All of this was true. He was expected to entertain thousands of people in a cathartic, chaotic musical explosion and then answer inane questions about what that performance meant. He was a heavy drug user who could not comprehend why people liked his music, or even that he was under no social obligation to continue producing it. He saw "wickedness" in things that were not wicked in any significant way (the music of Pearl Jam, generally positive coverage in Rolling Stone, Rolling Stone, fraternity bozos buying his records at Target), mostly because the social role he was burdened to bear required that he remain inflexible about teenage ideals normal adults would never seriously consider. Koresh decided he was literally God. Cobain was told he was figuratively God. Taken on balance, which would make a man crazier? fraternity bozos buying his records at Target), mostly because the social role he was burdened to bear required that he remain inflexible about teenage ideals normal adults would never seriously consider. Koresh decided he was literally God. Cobain was told he was figuratively God. Taken on balance, which would make a man crazier?
4 It's hard to imagine any artist more shamed by his commercial success than Cobain, mostly because no one has ever made so much money by defining himself as anticommercial. There's a famous story about how Cobain was outraged at Courtney Love's decision to purchase a Lexus automobile; he forced her to return it to the dealership so they could go back to driving a pre- It's hard to imagine any artist more shamed by his commercial success than Cobain, mostly because no one has ever made so much money by defining himself as anticommercial. There's a famous story about how Cobain was outraged at Courtney Love's decision to purchase a Lexus automobile; he forced her to return it to the dealership so they could go back to driving a pre-Nevermind Volvo. After his suicide, that Lexus became wildly symbolic, a metaphor that confounds anyone who wasn't nourished by (or force-fed) punk rock idealism. I remember trying to explain this to a fellow newspaper journalist in 1998, a few days after the premiere of Nick Broomfield's documentary Volvo. After his suicide, that Lexus became wildly symbolic, a metaphor that confounds anyone who wasn't nourished by (or force-fed) punk rock idealism. I remember trying to explain this to a fellow newspaper journalist in 1998, a few days after the premiere of Nick Broomfield's documentary Kurt and Courtney Kurt and Courtney. I have slowly come to understand why my attempt at explanation was so unfathomable.
"Who the fuck cares if she bought a Lexus?" the reporter asked me. "He could afford it. It's just a nice car. Why should his wife have to drive a shitty car?"
"But it wasn't just a nice car," I said. "It was a Lexus. A Lexus Lexus. That's a specific kind of nice car. Everyone knows what owning a Lexus means. To Cobain, a lavender limousine would have been preferable to a Lexus, because at least that would have been gratuitous and silly. The limousine is aware of its excess; a Lexus is at ease with it. A Lexus is a car for a serious rich person. There are no ironic Lexus drivers, or even post-ironic Lexus drivers."
"But Kurt Cobain wasn't ironically rich," the reporter responded. "He was literally rich."
"Yes, but he got rich by being the kind of person who self-identified with the underclass. Owning a Lexus made him feel hypocritical."
"Well, a rich person who self-identifies as being poor is certainly more hypocritical than a rich person whose wife drives a Lexus."
I must admit, even at the time of this conversation, I did not totally buy what I was arguing. The idea of Kurt forcing Courtney to return that car made me like like Cobain more, but it also made him seem confused in an unknowingly solipsistic way. It's like when Oprah Winfrey creates a game show where the whole goal is to give money away to sycophantic strangers: It's an impossible act to criticize, because (of course) charity is wonderful. Yet there's something perverse about high-profile public altruism; it always feels like the individual is trying to purchase "good person" status with money they could never spend on themselves, anyway. Oprah is doing something good, but not necessarily for the motive of goodness. And the motive matters. The situation with Cobain and the Lexus was both similar and different: He was trying to retain "real person" status by Cobain more, but it also made him seem confused in an unknowingly solipsistic way. It's like when Oprah Winfrey creates a game show where the whole goal is to give money away to sycophantic strangers: It's an impossible act to criticize, because (of course) charity is wonderful. Yet there's something perverse about high-profile public altruism; it always feels like the individual is trying to purchase "good person" status with money they could never spend on themselves, anyway. Oprah is doing something good, but not necessarily for the motive of goodness. And the motive matters. The situation with Cobain and the Lexus was both similar and different: He was trying to retain "real person" status by not not spending the money he was convinced he did not deserve. But that makes no sense. A "real" real person lets his dippy wife buy a Lexus when he has the GNP of Mexico in his checking account. No one in suburban Seattle was going to see Cobain behind the wheel of a used Volvo and forget that he could buy a better car; he merely looked like a millionaire trying to convince people that he still wanted to be the kind of guy who refused to buy a Lexus. Which is very, very different than simply not wanting one. Which he obviously realized, which is why he felt so awful. spending the money he was convinced he did not deserve. But that makes no sense. A "real" real person lets his dippy wife buy a Lexus when he has the GNP of Mexico in his checking account. No one in suburban Seattle was going to see Cobain behind the wheel of a used Volvo and forget that he could buy a better car; he merely looked like a millionaire trying to convince people that he still wanted to be the kind of guy who refused to buy a Lexus. Which is very, very different than simply not wanting one. Which he obviously realized, which is why he felt so awful.
In Utero sounds like what it is: Guilt Rock. sounds like what it is: Guilt Rock.
4A The most mind-bending episode in the history of the ABC program The most mind-bending episode in the history of the ABC program Lost Lost is the finale of its third season, mostly because it's the first time the show deviated from its pattern of using the narrative device of the flashback (which provided clarity as to who individual characters truly are) and started to employ flash-forwards (which usually serve to make the motives and machinations of the plot all the more twisted). The third season ends with the story's overt protagonist and failed savior, Dr. Jack Shephard (Matthew Fox), desperate and paranoid at the airport, pleading with his love interest Kate (Evangeline Lilly) about how they must return to the mystical island from which they escaped. Jack is racked with remorse and culpability over what has transpired on the island; he has become alienated from everyone in his life, addicted to drugs, and suicidal. He cannot move beyond the singular experience that has come to define everything about his identity. And how do we know this? Well, partially because this is what he says. But also because-earlier in the same episode-Jack drives around Los Angeles aimlessly, wearing sunglasses and listening to "Scentless Apprentice" a decade after its release. is the finale of its third season, mostly because it's the first time the show deviated from its pattern of using the narrative device of the flashback (which provided clarity as to who individual characters truly are) and started to employ flash-forwards (which usually serve to make the motives and machinations of the plot all the more twisted). The third season ends with the story's overt protagonist and failed savior, Dr. Jack Shephard (Matthew Fox), desperate and paranoid at the airport, pleading with his love interest Kate (Evangeline Lilly) about how they must return to the mystical island from which they escaped. Jack is racked with remorse and culpability over what has transpired on the island; he has become alienated from everyone in his life, addicted to drugs, and suicidal. He cannot move beyond the singular experience that has come to define everything about his identity. And how do we know this? Well, partially because this is what he says. But also because-earlier in the same episode-Jack drives around Los Angeles aimlessly, wearing sunglasses and listening to "Scentless Apprentice" a decade after its release.
In Utero sounds like what it is: Guilt Rock. sounds like what it is: Guilt Rock.
4B In between In between Nevermind Nevermind and and In Utero, In Utero, Nirvana released a B-side collection titled Nirvana released a B-side collection titled Incesticide Incesticide that contained Cobain's finest first-person narrative ("Sliver"), a great Vaselines cover ("Molly's Lips"), two semi-okay originals ("Dive" and "Aneurysm"), something called "Aero Zeppelin" (which doesn't sound like Aerosmith or Led Zeppelin), and a bunch of other songs I never listen to. The most interesting aspect of the record is the unorthodox liner notes, written by Cobain and printed in a thick, zine-like font. In later pressings of the record, Geffen discontinued these notes, which was both a wise and tragic decision. They open with Cobain telling a protracted story about how he was able to have an old album by the Raincoats mailed to him from London, and how this experience made him "happier than playing in front of thousands of people each night, rock-god idolization from fans, music industry plankton kissing my ass, and the millions of dollars I made last year." He goes on to talk about how his wife has been persecuted for choosing "not to function the way the white corporate man insists" and how she is preyed upon by an "army of devoted traitor women." He tells a few people to fuck off for thinking he's "naive and stupid" (not sure who he means here), compares his band to Cheap Trick and the Knack, and poses a request to his fans: "If any of you in any way hate homosexuals, people of a different color, or women, please do this one favor for us-leave us the fuck alone! Don't come to our shows and don't buy our records." that contained Cobain's finest first-person narrative ("Sliver"), a great Vaselines cover ("Molly's Lips"), two semi-okay originals ("Dive" and "Aneurysm"), something called "Aero Zeppelin" (which doesn't sound like Aerosmith or Led Zeppelin), and a bunch of other songs I never listen to. The most interesting aspect of the record is the unorthodox liner notes, written by Cobain and printed in a thick, zine-like font. In later pressings of the record, Geffen discontinued these notes, which was both a wise and tragic decision. They open with Cobain telling a protracted story about how he was able to have an old album by the Raincoats mailed to him from London, and how this experience made him "happier than playing in front of thousands of people each night, rock-god idolization from fans, music industry plankton kissing my ass, and the millions of dollars I made last year." He goes on to talk about how his wife has been persecuted for choosing "not to function the way the white corporate man insists" and how she is preyed upon by an "army of devoted traitor women." He tells a few people to fuck off for thinking he's "naive and stupid" (not sure who he means here), compares his band to Cheap Trick and the Knack, and poses a request to his fans: "If any of you in any way hate homosexuals, people of a different color, or women, please do this one favor for us-leave us the fuck alone! Don't come to our shows and don't buy our records."
There is, certainly, a lot of obvious weirdness to this letter, most notably (a) it's hard to imagine too many Nirvana completists self-identifying themselves as women-hating racist homophobes, regardless of how true that designation might have been, and (b) it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to tell people not to buy your album by including that message inside inside a shrink-wrapped CD. Kurt did not seem to have a very good grip on the return policies at most mainstream music outlets. But hey, it was December of 1992. Who could cast such stones? Nineteen ninety-two was the absolute apex of the PC era: The sexy goofs in Sonic Youth were writing entertaining songs about Anita Hill while lots of ponytailed boys in English 301 were trying to get laid by demanding the elimination of schoolyard dodgeball (granted, these events may not have been a shrink-wrapped CD. Kurt did not seem to have a very good grip on the return policies at most mainstream music outlets. But hey, it was December of 1992. Who could cast such stones? Nineteen ninety-two was the absolute apex of the PC era: The sexy goofs in Sonic Youth were writing entertaining songs about Anita Hill while lots of ponytailed boys in English 301 were trying to get laid by demanding the elimination of schoolyard dodgeball (granted, these events may not have been directly directly connected, but I think you know what I mean). Writing liner notes about how people needed to give more respect to your overbearing wife was simply what "enlightened" artists were doing at the time. Nobody should hold this against him. But there is at least one line from his manifesto that still strikes me as meaningful: "I don't feel the least bit guilty for commercially exploiting a completely exhausted Rock youth Culture because, at this point in rock history, Punk Rock (while still sacred to some) is, to me, dead and gone." connected, but I think you know what I mean). Writing liner notes about how people needed to give more respect to your overbearing wife was simply what "enlightened" artists were doing at the time. Nobody should hold this against him. But there is at least one line from his manifesto that still strikes me as meaningful: "I don't feel the least bit guilty for commercially exploiting a completely exhausted Rock youth Culture because, at this point in rock history, Punk Rock (while still sacred to some) is, to me, dead and gone."
So tell me this: In the scope of your lifetime, how many people have you known who said they didn't feel guilty about something you never accused them of doing you never accused them of doing? And-if and when this happened-how often did the expression of their nonguilt only serve to prove the complete opposite of what they literally said?
This record came out three months before Nirvana began recording In Utero In Utero. This is not a coincidence.
5 How good was Nirvana? Generally, we accept that they were the best commercial rock band from a specific era of rock . . . but were they How good was Nirvana? Generally, we accept that they were the best commercial rock band from a specific era of rock . . . but were they great great? In 1998, VH1 surveyed a shitload of unnamed musicians and industry insiders and asked them to rank the one hundred greatest rock artists of all time. The top five were the Beatles, the Stones, Hendrix, Zeppelin, and Dylan. Nirvana placed forty-second, but they were the only "modern" band on the entire list ("modern" meaning that their entire body of work was produced within the same decade as the poll). If this same poll were conducted today, I suspect Nirvana would still hang in the top fifty, but they would certainly not rank any better and might even drop a few spots. The release of the 2004 Nirvana box set With the Lights Out With the Lights Out somewhat validated the criticism Nirvana skeptics had been levying for years-the group simply did not produce enough material to warrant canonization. somewhat validated the criticism Nirvana skeptics had been levying for years-the group simply did not produce enough material to warrant canonization.
This, however, seems wrong to me. I look at canonized rock bands the same way I look at canonized U.S. presidents. Even if America lasts ten thousand years, the list of our greatest presidents will never change; it will always include Washington and Lincoln and Jefferson.2 They created the specific criteria for how we classify "greatness" in a president. To say a president is "great" is to argue that he (or she) is exhibiting leadership and judgment that's reminiscent of George Washington, which means that no new president can ever be as great as the person he (or she) is rewarded for emulating. Franklin Roosevelt is now included on the list of canonized presidents, but he cannot be on the same level as Lincoln; his greatness emerged from showing Lincolnian resolve during a period of twentieth-century crisis. They created the specific criteria for how we classify "greatness" in a president. To say a president is "great" is to argue that he (or she) is exhibiting leadership and judgment that's reminiscent of George Washington, which means that no new president can ever be as great as the person he (or she) is rewarded for emulating. Franklin Roosevelt is now included on the list of canonized presidents, but he cannot be on the same level as Lincoln; his greatness emerged from showing Lincolnian resolve during a period of twentieth-century crisis.
In the same way, the canon of rock 'n' roll is already set in concrete. Nirvana can't be as great as the Beatles or the Stones, and neither can anyone else; the greatness of any modern act is measured against what the Beatles and the Stones have come to represent as entities. But the reason I still think Nirvana warrants inclusion among the greatest bands of all time is because they established a new kind of band. They were the first rock group of the media age that was (a) regularly defined as the biggest band in the free world, while (b) using their espoused hatred of that designation as the principal means for their on-going success. Every band that becomes megasuccessful ultimately feels trapped by that adulation; the sensation of self-hatred is common among artists. What made Nirvana different was how that overt self-hatred defined the totality of their being. It was their principal aesthetic. They always seemed like a group that was producing popular culture against their will. This notion is something they invented accidentally, so all future bands that mine this worldview can only hope to replicate what Nirvana already popularized. As such, they are in the canon (on the JV team, but still).
2A In Utero In Utero opens with Dave Grohl tapping his sticks together three times before the rest of the band strikes a dissonant, awkward chord, which-now, and maybe even then-seems like a band taunting all the people who wanted to like this record for nonmusical reasons. And there were opens with Dave Grohl tapping his sticks together three times before the rest of the band strikes a dissonant, awkward chord, which-now, and maybe even then-seems like a band taunting all the people who wanted to like this record for nonmusical reasons. And there were a lot a lot of people like that; regardless of Cobain's alleged obsession with the pop world thinking his album would be terrible, just about everyone who bought it immediately liked it (or at least claimed that they did). The mainstream reviews were positive: four stars in of people like that; regardless of Cobain's alleged obsession with the pop world thinking his album would be terrible, just about everyone who bought it immediately liked it (or at least claimed that they did). The mainstream reviews were positive: four stars in Rolling Stone, Rolling Stone, eight out of ten in eight out of ten in NME, NME, an "A" from Robert Christgau at an "A" from Robert Christgau at The Village Voice, The Village Voice, and a ranking of third in and a ranking of third in Spin Spin's 1993 albums of the year list (behind Liz Phair and Dr. Dre). It was platinum by Thanksgiving. More interestingly, the pre-release rumors about how difficult In Utero In Utero was supposedly going to sound had the opposite impact-people felt smart for enjoying a "difficult" record and were reticent to complain about its abrasive nature. A similar thing happened to Radiohead when they put out was supposedly going to sound had the opposite impact-people felt smart for enjoying a "difficult" record and were reticent to complain about its abrasive nature. A similar thing happened to Radiohead when they put out Kid A Kid A in 2000: The album's prerelease coverage so vociferously insisted that anti-intellectual audiences would not understand in 2000: The album's prerelease coverage so vociferously insisted that anti-intellectual audiences would not understand Kid A Kid A that people were terrified to admit being bored by that people were terrified to admit being bored by any any of it. of it.
Within the critical circles I inhabit (and certainly within the critical circles I do not), it has become common to hear people argue that In Utero In Utero is superior to is superior to Nevermind Nevermind and that the pop-metal sheen on songs like "On a Plain" and "Lithium" made the earlier effort seem craven and clinical. and that the pop-metal sheen on songs like "On a Plain" and "Lithium" made the earlier effort seem craven and clinical. Nevermind Nevermind was cool to kids who were not. This is a pretty ridiculous criticism, but-somewhat sadly-that ridiculous critic was the straw man Cobain was most concerned about. And that concern is not sad because of how it affected the album, because the album still turned out pretty good. It's sad because it illustrates Cobain's darkest, most depressing artistic weakness: He could not stop himself from caring about people who would only appreciate his work if he were a mainstream failure, just like they were. And that was never going to happen, because true genius is commercially uncontainable. was cool to kids who were not. This is a pretty ridiculous criticism, but-somewhat sadly-that ridiculous critic was the straw man Cobain was most concerned about. And that concern is not sad because of how it affected the album, because the album still turned out pretty good. It's sad because it illustrates Cobain's darkest, most depressing artistic weakness: He could not stop himself from caring about people who would only appreciate his work if he were a mainstream failure, just like they were. And that was never going to happen, because true genius is commercially uncontainable.
By and large, Nevermind Nevermind and and In Utero In Utero are not as different as Cobain had hoped: The songwriting is pretty similar ("Smells Like Teen Spirit" and "Rape Me" are essentially identical, both sounding like Boston's "More Than a Feeling"). The meaningful difference is that on are not as different as Cobain had hoped: The songwriting is pretty similar ("Smells Like Teen Spirit" and "Rape Me" are essentially identical, both sounding like Boston's "More Than a Feeling"). The meaningful difference is that on Nevermind, Nevermind, the talent is top loaded and assertively present (the "talent" in this case being the melody and the drumming). On the talent is top loaded and assertively present (the "talent" in this case being the melody and the drumming). On In Utero, In Utero, the talent is still there, but it's buried under three meters of abstract credibility. All things considered, Albini actually did a wonderful job the talent is still there, but it's buried under three meters of abstract credibility. All things considered, Albini actually did a wonderful job3 of keeping the song structures as dynamic as they deserved, especially since (a) he always takes his cues from whatever the band claims to want, and (b) the band actively wanted to make a record that sounded awful to their pre-existing fan base, or at least to anyone who thought the drums on of keeping the song structures as dynamic as they deserved, especially since (a) he always takes his cues from whatever the band claims to want, and (b) the band actively wanted to make a record that sounded awful to their pre-existing fan base, or at least to anyone who thought the drums on Dr. Feelgood Dr. Feelgood sounded boss. The recording process took six days. (In an interview with sounded boss. The recording process took six days. (In an interview with Perfecting Sound Forever Perfecting Sound Forever author Greg Milner, Albini asserted, "If your record takes more than five or six days to make, it's bound to suck.") Compared to the theoretical rawness Cobain claimed to desire, author Greg Milner, Albini asserted, "If your record takes more than five or six days to make, it's bound to suck.") Compared to the theoretical rawness Cobain claimed to desire, In Utero In Utero merely sounds less reassuring and less immediate than any musical product that's ever sold five million copies. Still, Albini became the fall guy for why merely sounds less reassuring and less immediate than any musical product that's ever sold five million copies. Still, Albini became the fall guy for why In Utero In Utero seemed so self-absorbed with its own coolness, probably because-unlike 99 percent of record producers-he was actually famous enough to publicly criticize. Gold Mountain Entertainment, the group that managed Nirvana, tried to blame Albini entirely. seemed so self-absorbed with its own coolness, probably because-unlike 99 percent of record producers-he was actually famous enough to publicly criticize. Gold Mountain Entertainment, the group that managed Nirvana, tried to blame Albini entirely.
"He is God, and he knows what's good," Danny Goldberg said sarcastically during the prerelease melee. Goldberg was the founder of Gold Mountain. "And if the artist doesn't like it, he is somehow selling out because they don't agree with his personal vision. Steve Albini takes the position that anything he thinks is good is good. He's David Koresh."
3A It is difficult for me to write objectively about Koresh. It's difficult because I cannot see any framework where he and his followers were not murdered by the U.S. government (or-in the absolute best-case scenario-driven to commit mass suicide). In 2000, I (along with two other It is difficult for me to write objectively about Koresh. It's difficult because I cannot see any framework where he and his followers were not murdered by the U.S. government (or-in the absolute best-case scenario-driven to commit mass suicide). In 2000, I (along with two other Akron Beacon Journal Akron Beacon Journal reporters) spent a month reinvestigating the 1970 national guard shootings on the campus of Kent State University, a chapter in American history that is universally seen as a political tragedy. And it was. But I must admit that what happened at Waco seems worse. Kent State is tragic because four innocent people died while peacefully protesting an unpopular war. It was the result of underprepared national guardsmen responding extemporaneously (and poorly) in a situation where they felt physically threatened. May 4, 1970, was the single worst day of a mostly horrible era. But what happened on April 19, 1993, was bigger. It wasn't four people who died-it was seventy-six. And those seventy-six were hiding in a bunker, cut off from the media, and threatening no one. There was nothing spontaneous about it; the federal government had been thinking about this for over a month. The Branch Davidians were essentially executed for being weirdos. reporters) spent a month reinvestigating the 1970 national guard shootings on the campus of Kent State University, a chapter in American history that is universally seen as a political tragedy. And it was. But I must admit that what happened at Waco seems worse. Kent State is tragic because four innocent people died while peacefully protesting an unpopular war. It was the result of underprepared national guardsmen responding extemporaneously (and poorly) in a situation where they felt physically threatened. May 4, 1970, was the single worst day of a mostly horrible era. But what happened on April 19, 1993, was bigger. It wasn't four people who died-it was seventy-six. And those seventy-six were hiding in a bunker, cut off from the media, and threatening no one. There was nothing spontaneous about it; the federal government had been thinking about this for over a month. The Branch Davidians were essentially executed for being weirdos.
I realize Koresh was fucking crazy. I'm not denying it. He was fucking crazy He was fucking crazy. Though the child-molestation stuff has never been verified, I don't doubt it. The fact that he believed he had to sire twenty-four kids so that they could rule the world seems like a creative way for a psycho to meet girls. Anyone who reads every line of the Bible as non-metaphoric text has limited credibility. So I realize he was fucking crazy. But our government does not typically kill people for being crazy. In fact, the reason they killed Koresh was because a minority of the population in Waco thought he was sane. And I know I probably shouldn't write "They killed Koresh," because no one will ever know who started the fires inside the Waco compound (academic Kenneth Newport has written extensively about how he believes the fires were set by the Davidians themselves, since this behavior falls in line with their belief system). That will always be the central question to this debate, and it's significantly more than a minor detail. But in ways that are more meaningful, it almost doesn't matter at all.
The U.S. Treasury Department reviewed the Waco disaster in 1999. One of the reviewers was Henry Ruth Jr., who had served as a prosecutor in the Watergate trial. "At least part of the ATF's motivation," said Ruth, "even if it never rose to the surface of discussion, was to enforce the morals of our society. To enforce the psyche of right thinking by retaliating against these odd people." That, ultimately, was the crime committed by the Branch Davidians: oddness. And they weren't even that odd: One of the Davidians was Wayne Martin, one of the first African-Americans to graduate from Harvard Law School. A common misconception about the Davidians was that they were all separatist Texans, probably because the only voice ever associated with the cult is Koresh's drawl; the community was, in fact, remarkably international. Moreover, their unifying element does not strike me as unreasonable: They thought the world was ending. Which is not necessarily a ludicrous thing to believe-at some point, the world is is going to end. I'm not sure why someone would assume that's going to happen sooner than later, but I also have no fucking idea why the government would care if a hundred Texans were betting short. The ATF claimed the Davidians were stockpiling guns, a claim that is both true and absurd; the reason the Davidians stockpiled weapons was because they made money by buying and selling them at gun shows, one of the few ways they could make money without holding jobs in the outside world. The idea that these self-interested Bible scholars were hoarding weapons in order to going to end. I'm not sure why someone would assume that's going to happen sooner than later, but I also have no fucking idea why the government would care if a hundred Texans were betting short. The ATF claimed the Davidians were stockpiling guns, a claim that is both true and absurd; the reason the Davidians stockpiled weapons was because they made money by buying and selling them at gun shows, one of the few ways they could make money without holding jobs in the outside world. The idea that these self-interested Bible scholars were hoarding weapons in order to attack the rest of America attack the rest of America only proves that no one in the government (or the media) tried to understand those people at all. Granted, some of the weapons were illegal. That's true. They did have some AK-47s in the mix. But perhaps they thought they needed a few assault rifles, because perhaps they thought the FBI would drive tanks into their homes and fire tear gas at their children while broadcasting the phrase "This is not an assault" over an intercom. Maybe they thought the government would shoot at them from helicopters and burn them alive. They were, after all, insane. only proves that no one in the government (or the media) tried to understand those people at all. Granted, some of the weapons were illegal. That's true. They did have some AK-47s in the mix. But perhaps they thought they needed a few assault rifles, because perhaps they thought the FBI would drive tanks into their homes and fire tear gas at their children while broadcasting the phrase "This is not an assault" over an intercom. Maybe they thought the government would shoot at them from helicopters and burn them alive. They were, after all, insane.
I'm not going to attempt to prove that the FBI actively ignited the fires at Waco or consciously vented the compound to accelerate the speed of the blaze. Those arguments can be better understood by watching the William Gazecki documentary Waco: The Rules of Engagement, Waco: The Rules of Engagement, the best resource for what (probably) happened that day. I'm actually going to go the other way on this; for the sake of argument, I will accept Joseph Biden's take on the Waco holocaust: "David Koresh and the Branch Davidians set fire to themselves and committed suicide. The government did not do that." This is quite possibly false, but I will accept it. And I will accept it because if it is true, it changes nothing. If he destroyed himself and his followers, he did so because life convinced him that he was right about everything (and that this event was the best resource for what (probably) happened that day. I'm actually going to go the other way on this; for the sake of argument, I will accept Joseph Biden's take on the Waco holocaust: "David Koresh and the Branch Davidians set fire to themselves and committed suicide. The government did not do that." This is quite possibly false, but I will accept it. And I will accept it because if it is true, it changes nothing. If he destroyed himself and his followers, he did so because life convinced him that he was right about everything (and that this event was supposed supposed to happen). He was being the person he had to be. And while that's a doomed perspective for anyone to embrace, it's certainly not uncommon: Koresh merely picked the wrong myths to believe unconditionally. to happen). He was being the person he had to be. And while that's a doomed perspective for anyone to embrace, it's certainly not uncommon: Koresh merely picked the wrong myths to believe unconditionally.
1A A lot of my favorite bands habitually wrecked their shit. Paul Stanley smashed a guitar at the end of every Kiss concert (they were specifically modified to self-destruct on impact). Nikki Sixx of Motley Crue always smashed his bass, whipping it by the strap like a Jamaican farmer flogging a goat. When Guns N' Roses went on A lot of my favorite bands habitually wrecked their shit. Paul Stanley smashed a guitar at the end of every Kiss concert (they were specifically modified to self-destruct on impact). Nikki Sixx of Motley Crue always smashed his bass, whipping it by the strap like a Jamaican farmer flogging a goat. When Guns N' Roses went on Headbangers Ball, Headbangers Ball, they ended their segment by destroying the entire MTV set. This kind of thing was not uncommon and never unexpected. And because it happened during the 1980s, the meaning of such behavior was specific: It proved that your band was successful. Metal bands did not smash guitars as an extension of chaos or rebellion-they smashed them to prove they could easily buy more. It wasn't a punk move. It was an antipunk move. That's why I liked it. they ended their segment by destroying the entire MTV set. This kind of thing was not uncommon and never unexpected. And because it happened during the 1980s, the meaning of such behavior was specific: It proved that your band was successful. Metal bands did not smash guitars as an extension of chaos or rebellion-they smashed them to prove they could easily buy more. It wasn't a punk move. It was an antipunk move. That's why I liked it.
The Clash smashed their instruments for political freedom, but also because it made for excellent photo opportunities. For years, the indie art rockers in . . . And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead destroyed their equipment at the conclusion of every single show, mostly to make people wonder how in the hell they were able to afford doing so without selling any records. When Nirvana was new, audiences were shocked when they destroyed their stuff-that was pretty much the only stuff they had. By the time they were touring in support of In Utero, In Utero, people were equally shocked if they walked off the stage without Kurt diving into the drum kit like Walter Payton on third and goal. Near the end, it was widely known (or at least universally suspected) that Sub Pop founder Jonathan Poneman was mailing Cobain innumerable pawnshop guitars that he could break at his convenience, supposedly because Kurt was really attached to the Fender Mustang he had used during the recording of people were equally shocked if they walked off the stage without Kurt diving into the drum kit like Walter Payton on third and goal. Near the end, it was widely known (or at least universally suspected) that Sub Pop founder Jonathan Poneman was mailing Cobain innumerable pawnshop guitars that he could break at his convenience, supposedly because Kurt was really attached to the Fender Mustang he had used during the recording of In Utero In Utero. He was still breaking things for the benefit of other people, but only things he did not want or need.
On a human-emptiness scale of one to ten (one being "emotionally complete," ten being "metaphysically devoid of feeling"), this is a fourteen.
2B "So many people would be expecting me to be writing about the last two years-about our experiences with drugs and having a new child and all the press coming down on us and the stuff like that. But I decided to just use experiences from books and other stories, without even dealing with my life." Cobain said these words in February of 1994, on a boat, smoking a cigarette. "There are little bits of my life [on "So many people would be expecting me to be writing about the last two years-about our experiences with drugs and having a new child and all the press coming down on us and the stuff like that. But I decided to just use experiences from books and other stories, without even dealing with my life." Cobain said these words in February of 1994, on a boat, smoking a cigarette. "There are little bits of my life [on In Utero In Utero]. Personal things. But for the most part, it's very unpersonal. Impersonal."
This is how it always goes: An artist gambles against society, using his own life as currency. He writes (in this case, songs) about his own experience, but in a manner that is malleable enough to be appreciated by the collective whole. When this is successful, the artist is validated. But if the artist grows too successful, the gears start grinding in reverse; people begin to see absolutely everything the artist says or does as a kind of public art that's open to interpretation. This makes the artist paranoid and creatively paralyzed. As a result, the artist decides to ignore his own experience completely, insisting that he's no longer the center of whatever he creates; instead, he will write about dead actresses who were sent to sanitariums or German novels about the olfactory sensation. His material will be "unpersonal." But this never works. The artist cannot stop himself from injecting his own experience into these subjects, because that is who the artist is-either you always write about yourself or you never do. It's not a process you select. So now the artist is trying not to write about himself (but doing so anyway), which means other people's interpretations of the work will now be extra extra inaccurate, because the artist has surrendered his agency. Any time you try to tell people what your work isn't supposed to mean, you only make things worse. inaccurate, because the artist has surrendered his agency. Any time you try to tell people what your work isn't supposed to mean, you only make things worse.
The lyrics from In Utero In Utero everyone recognized as consequential were the first two lines: "Teenage angst has paid off well / Now I'm bored and old." This was pretty straightforward and expository, and it was funny in the way Kurt was often funny (i.e., funny in a way that wouldn't make anyone laugh aloud). To me, the most compelling lines on the album are the ones that seem profound everyone recognized as consequential were the first two lines: "Teenage angst has paid off well / Now I'm bored and old." This was pretty straightforward and expository, and it was funny in the way Kurt was often funny (i.e., funny in a way that wouldn't make anyone laugh aloud). To me, the most compelling lines on the album are the ones that seem profound because because they're inherently meaningless. On "Serve the Servants," Cobain moans, "I tried hard to have a father / But instead I had a dad." That complaint would seem just as valid if it were exactly reversed. they're inherently meaningless. On "Serve the Servants," Cobain moans, "I tried hard to have a father / But instead I had a dad." That complaint would seem just as valid if it were exactly reversed.4 The album's closing lines-off "All Apologies," a song many uncreative critics would come to classify as "the real suicide note"-are the repetition of the phrase "All in all is all we are." Here again, it's hard to see much difference if the sentiment is juxtaposed. It's kind of like how Vince Lombardi is famous for supposedly saying, "Winning isn't everything. It's the only thing." It feels insightful, but only because of what we know about the speaker-the words themselves are completely interchangeable. Sometimes I wonder if Cobain's transcendent depression was ultimately due to the combination of (a) having so many people caring about his words, despite the fact that (b) he really didn't have that much to say. The album's closing lines-off "All Apologies," a song many uncreative critics would come to classify as "the real suicide note"-are the repetition of the phrase "All in all is all we are." Here again, it's hard to see much difference if the sentiment is juxtaposed. It's kind of like how Vince Lombardi is famous for supposedly saying, "Winning isn't everything. It's the only thing." It feels insightful, but only because of what we know about the speaker-the words themselves are completely interchangeable. Sometimes I wonder if Cobain's transcendent depression was ultimately due to the combination of (a) having so many people caring about his words, despite the fact that (b) he really didn't have that much to say.
"There's nothing that hurts me more than being called a cult leader. If I'm wrong, people like me don't deserve to live." This is not Cobain speaking. This is David Koresh again, talking to ATF negotiator Jim Cavanaugh from inside the Waco compound. However, I think Kurt would have understood Koresh completely. "Look: I'm just an instrument, okay? I show them, out of a book, what God teaches. Then it's for them to decide."
But how do we tell the difference between an instrument and its sound? And-more importantly-what if we're uninterested in accepting that distinction?
6 I was down in Australia when the Waco debacle happened, and the Australians had a big contingency at the Branch Davidian compound, and I'm from Texas. So they were very curious. They were always asking me all about it: "Oh, this guy is so I was down in Australia when the Waco debacle happened, and the Australians had a big contingency at the Branch Davidian compound, and I'm from Texas. So they were very curious. They were always asking me all about it: "Oh, this guy is so weird weird. This Koresh is so weird weird." And I was thinking: "Well, wait a minute: A frustrated rock musician with a messianic complex, armed to the teeth, and trying to fuck everything that moves. I don't know how to tell you this, but he sounds like every one of my friends from Austin."
-Bill Hicks, 1993 7 It is unfair to compare It is unfair to compare In Utero In Utero to Waco. It is unfair to compare Cobain to Koresh. I know that. They are not the same; just because two things happen at the same time doesn't mean they're connected. Babe Ruth's first home run and the premiere of to Waco. It is unfair to compare Cobain to Koresh. I know that. They are not the same; just because two things happen at the same time doesn't mean they're connected. Babe Ruth's first home run and the premiere of Birth of a Nation Birth of a Nation both happened in 1915, but that doesn't dictate a relationship. If you stare long enough at anything, you will start to find similarities. The word both happened in 1915, but that doesn't dictate a relationship. If you stare long enough at anything, you will start to find similarities. The word coincidence coincidence exists in order to stop people from seeing meaning where none exists. So, sure, comparing Cobain and Koresh is a little unfair. exists in order to stop people from seeing meaning where none exists. So, sure, comparing Cobain and Koresh is a little unfair.
Although I'm not sure which one it's unfair to. I feel sorry for both of them. I can see it both ways. That's my problem.
5A Before he was a generational voice and flannel advocate, Cobain was a pretend roadie for the Melvins, a band who used to penalize festival audiences by crushing them with avalanches of tuneless, high-volume feedback. I experienced this at Ozzfest in 1998, inside the Akron Rubber Bowl, under a 102-degree sun; the sound of dying rabbits might not have been preferable, but it could not have been any worse. Still, it's easy to understand why someone like Cobain (or anyone else) would be drawn to the Melvins: They are more honest than virtually any band I can think of. Before he was a generational voice and flannel advocate, Cobain was a pretend roadie for the Melvins, a band who used to penalize festival audiences by crushing them with avalanches of tuneless, high-volume feedback. I experienced this at Ozzfest in 1998, inside the Akron Rubber Bowl, under a 102-degree sun; the sound of dying rabbits might not have been preferable, but it could not have been any worse. Still, it's easy to understand why someone like Cobain (or anyone else) would be drawn to the Melvins: They are more honest than virtually any band I can think of.
"I know what rock 'n' roll is about," Melvins guitarist King Buzzo once said in an interview for Croatian television. "Most of it's a bunch of greedy, drug-taking monsters. Whoremongering drug addicts that are probably no good for anybody, generally speaking."
This is the mentality the young Cobain hoped to emulate. It was an aesthetic that ultimately proved impossible to adopt, simply because Nirvana got too big to make such contempt sincere. But Cobain still wanted wanted to think this way about "mainstream rock," and he wanted his audience to think this way, too. He wanted to play music for people who had King Buzzo's worldview. He wanted to make Nirvana culture a hermetic culture; he wanted it to be insular and manageable and uncompromised. His strategy was to destroy a sector of his audience by making a record that a person who thought like King Buzzo would appreciate but a person who thought like Billy Corgan would find boring. And this was never going to work. It was never going to work because the sector of the audience Cobain hoped to alienate did not really care what to think this way about "mainstream rock," and he wanted his audience to think this way, too. He wanted to play music for people who had King Buzzo's worldview. He wanted to make Nirvana culture a hermetic culture; he wanted it to be insular and manageable and uncompromised. His strategy was to destroy a sector of his audience by making a record that a person who thought like King Buzzo would appreciate but a person who thought like Billy Corgan would find boring. And this was never going to work. It was never going to work because the sector of the audience Cobain hoped to alienate did not really care what In Utero In Utero sounded like. What Cobain failed to accept is that there is nothing that "sounds mainstream" to mainstream listeners. Music critics have an inflexible description of what mainstream music sounds like, but music consumers do not; to the consumer, the definition of sounded like. What Cobain failed to accept is that there is nothing that "sounds mainstream" to mainstream listeners. Music critics have an inflexible description of what mainstream music sounds like, but music consumers do not; to the consumer, the definition of mainstream mainstream is whatever everyone else is listening to. In 1993, "mainstream rock" was Nirvana, regardless of their style or intention. The sonic dimensions were a minor detail. Had is whatever everyone else is listening to. In 1993, "mainstream rock" was Nirvana, regardless of their style or intention. The sonic dimensions were a minor detail. Had In Utero In Utero sounded like sounded like Stoner Witch, Stoner Witch, it still would have gone multiplatinum. it still would have gone multiplatinum.
Conversely, the Branch Davidians were were able to construct a hermetic culture: In 1955, they were able to contract a smaller sect of hard-core cultists from the Seventh-Day Adventists, and Koresh splintered that population into an even smaller group of "Seven Seals" scholars during the 1980s. What Koresh did accept (but failed to fully grasp) was that there is something called " able to construct a hermetic culture: In 1955, they were able to contract a smaller sect of hard-core cultists from the Seventh-Day Adventists, and Koresh splintered that population into an even smaller group of "Seven Seals" scholars during the 1980s. What Koresh did accept (but failed to fully grasp) was that there is something called "living mainstream," and that all mainstream livers are unyielding about what that concept is supposed to denote. Anyone who chooses to live in a manner that contradicts this concept is never going to get sympathy from anyone. This is not to say that average people will want you to die for having radical views, nor does it mean that living in a fucked-up compound with fifteen wives is merely "different" than living in a three-bedroom house in suburban Houston. But it mainstream," and that all mainstream livers are unyielding about what that concept is supposed to denote. Anyone who chooses to live in a manner that contradicts this concept is never going to get sympathy from anyone. This is not to say that average people will want you to die for having radical views, nor does it mean that living in a fucked-up compound with fifteen wives is merely "different" than living in a three-bedroom house in suburban Houston. But it does does mean that if the government needlessly decides to attack your home with tanks, the rest of the world is going to assume you must have deserved it. If you openly admit that you're waiting for the world to end in fire, no one will take your side when somebody makes that happen. They will insist you should be happy about getting your wish. And maybe that's true; maybe what happened to the Branch Davidians on April 19 only proved their vision was always correct. They insulated their doomsday society enough to make it the totality of their world, and that world was, in fact, coming to an end. mean that if the government needlessly decides to attack your home with tanks, the rest of the world is going to assume you must have deserved it. If you openly admit that you're waiting for the world to end in fire, no one will take your side when somebody makes that happen. They will insist you should be happy about getting your wish. And maybe that's true; maybe what happened to the Branch Davidians on April 19 only proved their vision was always correct. They insulated their doomsday society enough to make it the totality of their world, and that world was, in fact, coming to an end.
So in this one way, I suppose, Cobain and Koresh are very different. The former failed at his attempt to separate his true followers from the rest of America, and he destroyed himself for that failure. The latter was destroyed by others for succeeding at the same goal.
It's fascinating and stupid to watch adults destroy things on purpose.
1B When Nirvana toured England in the fall of 1990, people told them not to demolish themselves. Melvins drummer Dale Crover was serving as the band's temporary percussionist (this was before Dave Grohl joined the band), and he made Nirvana sign a contract that barred any member of the band from jumping into his drum kit or smashing equipment onstage. Crover's argument, in short, was that destroying one's own set was fucking boring. The group complied. When Nirvana toured England in the fall of 1990, people told them not to demolish themselves. Melvins drummer Dale Crover was serving as the band's temporary percussionist (this was before Dave Grohl joined the band), and he made Nirvana sign a contract that barred any member of the band from jumping into his drum kit or smashing equipment onstage. Crover's argument, in short, was that destroying one's own set was fucking boring. The group complied.
When Nirvana made In Utero In Utero in spring of '93, everyone they knew told them not to demolish themselves. All they had to do was make a record. Any record would do. Whatever they produced would be exactly what the world wanted. But that was only true as long as nobody believed they cared; the reason America loved Nirvana was because they were convinced that Nirvana did not need their love. And that was not the case. Nirvana in spring of '93, everyone they knew told them not to demolish themselves. All they had to do was make a record. Any record would do. Whatever they produced would be exactly what the world wanted. But that was only true as long as nobody believed they cared; the reason America loved Nirvana was because they were convinced that Nirvana did not need their love. And that was not the case. Nirvana did did need love, and that was Kurt Cobain's shame. So how do you make a record for people who want you to prove that you don't care how much they enjoy it? By making it sound "bad." You make it sound need love, and that was Kurt Cobain's shame. So how do you make a record for people who want you to prove that you don't care how much they enjoy it? By making it sound "bad." You make it sound a little great, a little great, but you also make it sound a little bad. Because then everyone is happy, except for the alleged genius writing all the songs. but you also make it sound a little bad. Because then everyone is happy, except for the alleged genius writing all the songs.
The world was ending. It was. It was ending in dissonance and it was ending in fire, and the vocals would be low in the mix. Besides, there is nothing worse than calling someone a cult leader. People like that don't deserve to live.
1. Twenty-one years after the fact, one of the guitars Cobain smashed at a 1989 show in Hoboken, New Jersey, sold on eBay for $100,000.