10 years ago today, I was a Sophomore at Virginia Tech studying theatre. And no, you've never known anyone famous from Virginia Tech's theatre department.
Anyway, the previous evening I had been on quite the bender, had rehearsal that morning. So when I returned to my garden apartment, I immediately fell asleep on the futon.
As the sun was falling, I was awoken by the phone ringing. I let the answering machine pick it up, and that's when my friend Wendy's voice came through the machine's speaker. I'll never forget it:
"Arlo, I don't know if you've heard yet, but Kurt Cobain is dead. I thought you should know."
There were five messages from other friends informing me of the same news.
In 1989, I was a sophomore in high school, awkward but cocky (not much has changed). Much of my social interaction was with a youth group at church. The only real music choices I had made were U2 and R.E.M. I had been wearing out a dub of a dub of a dub of
Never Mind the Bollocks secretly hidden from my parents. Nevertheless, I was never into music growing up since I was never really allowed around much of it.
One friend in my church youth group, a high school senior, had the most coveted job of any minor -- he worked at a record store. And he always had a tape of some band I had never heard of. The Replacements, Screaming Blue Messiahs, XTC (the song "Dear God" was mindblowing), Guadalcanal Diary -- it seemed forbidden, and I ate all of it up.
Then on one trip with the youth choir, he presented me with a dubbed tape, telling me it was the best thing he'd heard come into the store in a long time and that I had to have a copy. It was Nirvana's
Bleach.
I listened to nothing but that tape for three months until it broke. That album was the most ferocious thing I had heard up until that point. It was ferocious in the way I was ferocious. Bubbling anger, spurting through sludge.
I had no idea how angry I was until I listed to Nirvana.
Two years after that tape broke and I was unable to replace it because Virginia Beach wasn't exactly the sort of town where you could find independent music, I was in my bedroom watching 120 Minutes on MTV with the sound turned way down. "Smells Like Teen Spirit" premiered. I bought the CD that week, and everything changed.
Nirvana is the reason I bought my first guitar. Nirvana is the reason I became so enamored of music. Nirvana is the reason I awoke from the coma my Christian upbringing slipped me into. Nirvana was the catalyst though which I began to think for myself, to see the world through eyes that were more critical and yet more tolerant.
As for how Kurt's death affected me, it's almost too personal to talk about here. Let's just say that it was harder to learn from Kurt's mistakes than it was to learn from his successes. Perhaps sometime when you're in the mood for a sad story, you can buy me a beer.
10 years later, the entire Nirvana catalog is in my iTunes rotation. When I dust off my guitar, I often warm up with "Aneurysm." While I read
Journals, I felt naughty and actually regret reading them.
Like any other tragic, dramatic death, there are plenty of folks out there looking to profit with their
conspiracy theories. Just like any other conspiracy theory, if there was hard evidence, someone would have been arrested, but anything can be spun into circumstance. As much as I'd like to think Courtney Love is a heartless whore, I can't blame her. I'd prefer to let Kurt rest in peace.
Kurt, I don't put much belief in an afterlife, but if there is one, perhaps you're Googling your name today and have happened upon this lowly blog. You never wanted to be an icon or a rock star, so I'll let today's newspapers thank you for that. I want to thank you for waking me up.
In the ...like you really care... tradition, moment of silence for
Kurt Cobain.