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Updated:
August 20th 2008 (c)
JW/GMI - By Saul Lebowitz
Kurt Donald Cobain is dead. In case you didn't know. But let's start at the beginning, shall we? The reason anyone cares, is that once, a long time ago, he was the leader of Nirvana, the multiplatinum grunge band that redefined the sound of the nineties. That is, he made lots of loud, unmelodic noice, which didn't even have what black people call "pocket". No groove, no feel. Some say that he expressed an emotion. So does my baby brother, when he wants his diaper changed. I wouldn't pay to hear it, though. Nonetheless, I've got this new job at PopMusic.com as a writer - this is actually my first article - and I just don't care. I'm going to tell the truth. At least the way I see it... Kurt Cobain - Donald, to you and me - was popped out of his mother - a cocktail waitress -... little Kurtie popped out of her womb on or about on February 20, 1967. The Swinging Sixties. About four months before Sgt. Pepper came out. Imagine that. A LONG time ago... This fortuitous event took place in in Hoquaim, a small town about 70 miles south-west of Seattle. His mother had "married up", as they used to say. Young Kurtie's father was an auto mechanic! Somehow, it isn't surprising that Cobain wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Cobain
soon moved to nearby Aberdeen, a depressed, depressing, and
dying logging town. Kurt felt right at home. When you listen
to his music, you can hear the enervating joy of this
charming background... But wait, it gets better/worse. Cobain was, for most his childhood a sick kid. Coughed a lot. Somehow, this isn't surprising, when you listen to his singing. Cobain's parents divorced when he was seven. Perhaps all that coughing drove them crazy. Anyway, Cobain said he never felt "loved or secure" again. Not even in his marriage to Courtney Love. Somehow, that's not surprising, either. Yeah, and then he killed himself - sorry, we're skipping ahead... He became increasingly difficult, anti-social and withdrawn. Some people would say he became a troubled teen. Cobain also claimed that his parent's traumatic split fueled much of the anguish in Nirvana's music. There are those who have to grow up in concentration camps (c.f. Anne Frank), but, for those with a predisposition for tragedy, anguish can be found in the most mundane of suburban settings. Some might call him a weak and pathetic character, who stole from his daughter a father, from his wife a husband. Apologists would say depression is a disease, and character doesn't enter into it. The result was the same, no matter your political theory, or medical thought: No Kurt, and a daughter without a father, and a bloody mess. I know it's sad, I know it's sad. I just can't help myself. I'm happy now, as I right this. The next time I'm lying on the floor in a pool of my own urine - or whatever - and I read this, I'll regret my cold, callous heart. How could I have been so heartles, I'll ask, taking the piss (as we say in England) out of this tragic figure. For the money?!? To Entertain the Masses?!?! Hey, I live in a town where the Jerry Springer Opera is a big hit - I don't think, try as hard as I might, I could ever sink that low. Not in a million billion years. So deal with it. Or talk back - here! After his parents' divorce Cobain found himself shuttled back and forth between various relatives and at one stage homeless living under a bridge. [His record company's biographers probably embellished an incident when he ran away for a night. Record company biographers are known to do that. He was probably a perfectly happy kid, to be honest...] When Cobain was eleven he became fascinated by the sonic complexity, and light and distinctive counterpoint, of that great paean to culture and civilisation, the work of the Sex Pistols. Some say Nirvana are directly descended from punk in form of mood, melody and lyrical quality. (i.e., it sucks) Cobain's artistry and iconoclastic attitude didn't win many friends in high school - that is, he was a weirdo (which, in all fairness, probably meant - to give him his fair shot - he was much cooler than those idiots in his school!) Basically, he was beaten up by "jocks". Cobain, never far from a witty, Wildean riposte, got even by spray painting "QUEER" on their pick-up trucks. One almost might mistake rural Washington for London of the late 19th century. Almost. By 1985 Aberdeen was as dead as Cobain's soul, and Cobain moved on to the thriving metropolis of Olympia. Cobain formed and reformed a series of bands before finally hitting on his master plan - Nirvana, in 1986. Nirvana was an ego-fueled mosh-pit of a band, consisting of Cobain, bassist Krist Novoselic and, eventually, drummer and multi-instrumentalist Dave Grohl. By 1988 Nirvana were doing shows and were sending demo tapes around. By 1989, Nirvana had recorded their first album, Bleach, for local Seattle label Sub-Pop In the UK, Nirvana was being noticed by the crooked toothed Brits, and in the US, by the crooked David Geffen (NB - no, no, he's not crooked - of course, he's not straight either, so...) Anyway, in 1991 their contract was bought out by Geffen Records, run by the illustrious David Geffen, who at one time was rumoured to be Michael Jackson's homosexual lover. (NOT saying it's true, but the rumour went around). Bet Kurt didn't spray-paint "Queer" on David Geffen's car! And so, the great, soul-destroying monolith of the record business was about to crush the teen spirit out of Nirvana, and Kurt Cobain. The hit single from their debut Geffen, woah we're in the big-time album, Nevermind, was Smells Like Teen Spirit. This tuneful ditty would propel Nirvana to mainstream stardom, and Kurt Cobain to eventual death... "Smells Like Teen Spirit became", according to received wisdom, "Nirvana's most highly acclaimed and instantly recognizable song." At least it's been said. To me, to this day, I still can't figure out which song that is. Is it the loud one? Or the loud one?!? Nevermind went on to sell ten million copies and reputedly helped buy David Geffen's next mansion. It is rumoured that even the band members might have received a few dollars. Cobain was unprepared for being thrust into...well, out of the hell-hole from which he emerged, into the sordid and sleazy world of show business, where everyone is your friend until you stop selling records. He no doubt smelled the insincerity in the smarmy show biz people he was forced to associate with - all this acclamation, that would stop the minute he stopped being "hot". And it's not like you can really imagine Courtney Love would have been any great emotional support. Basically, he was rich, and all alone. Screwed.
It's not fun to be a millionaire, if you're all alone. Trust me (I've heard rumours...) "If there was a rock star 101 course, I'd really have like to take it," Cobain once observed. Cobain started taking heroin to cope with the demands of touring and to stop the pain of stomach ulcers and an irritated bowel. (Ouch!) Through the touring and pressure Cobain continued to write his very personal, and somewhat pathetic lyrics. Cobain was distressed to find out that what he wrote and how it was interpreted could sometimes be...ironic - don't you think? For example, he found out that, Polly, a heavily ironic anti-rape song had its irony stripped by the uncultured yobs of a gang, who listened to it while they raped someone. Actually, that's not funny, and I apologise for the filppant tone. He later asked fans, on the Incesticide liner notes, "If any of you don't like gays or women or blacks, please leave us the fuck alone." Sadly, rockstar status did not give him the powers of God...he didn't change the world... In February 1992 Cobain flew to Hawaii to marry the already pregnant Courtney Love. Later in the year Nirvana released Incesticide, and in August Cobain had hospital treatment for heroin abuse. It was a fun filled year - well, not really - two tragedies, something good, and a draw. You pick which is which (okay, I say bringing life into the world was good - CL having the baby. Him marrying her...hard to find the good in that. Hospitalised for heroin? Not good. Incesticide ? Um...not good in my book, but maybe in yours...) Shortly thereafter Frances Bean Cobain was born (the good bit!) In early 1993 In Utero was released, and rose faster than a bat out of hell to the top of the pops (and bats rise FAST! - especially when they're straight out of hell!!!). In Utero was widely acclaimed by the music press (which is ALWAYS right), and contains some of Cobain's most passionate work. In Utero was exposed than Nirvana's previous albums. Songs like All Apologies and Heart Shaped Box detailed aspects of Cobain's sometimes shaky marriage, other songs like Scentless Apprentice detailed the agonies and struggles of Cobain's experiences. Or whatever... Nirvana embarked on a support tour, and recorded and filmed an "unplugged" (acoustic) performance for MTV in November of 1993. Nirvana's choice to honour bands and people that had influenced them and Cobain's passionate and intense vocals especially on "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?" silenced many of their who had labeled Cobain talentless. (Not this author, though!) Rumours circulated that the MTV Unplugged compilation would be Nirvana's last album and the band were splitting up.
Cobain was a gun fanatic (familiar with the dramatic term foreshadowing?!?!?!?!!!!!) In the northern winter of 1993-94 Nirvana embarked on a European tour. Twenty concerts into the tour Cobain developed throat problems (all that coughing when he was a kid?!? - Certainly not his singing style, which was almost like Enrico Caruso!) So, the tour stopped while Cobain nursed his aching throat (could anyone have told the difference?!?) While recovering Cobain flew to Rome to join his wife, the lovely Courtney Love, who was also preparing to tour, slyly taking advantage of her husband's popularity to tour with her own band, Hole. As in Ass. On the fourth of March Cobain was rushed to hospital in a coma after an unsuccessful suicide bid in which he washed down fifty or so prescription painkillers with champagne. (LUXURY suicide!) The suicide bid was hushed up by Cobain's record company, ensuring, in the process, that fewer people would know enough to help save him - but, after all, it would have been bad publicity for the band. And would have made insurance go through the roof! Priorities. You can understand. Several days later he returned to Seattle. Cobain's wife, friends and managers convinced Cobain, who was deeply upset to enter a detox program in L.A. According to a missing person's report filed by his mother Cobain fled after only a few days of the program. Shortly thereafter, Cobain was cited in the Seattle area with a shotgun. Days later, on the fifth of April he barricaded himself into the granny flat behind his house, put a shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. On Thursday April the 7th, two days after Cobain shot himself and the day before his body was found, police say Courtney Love herself was taken to hospital in L.A. for a drug overdose. Released on bail, Love checked herself into a rehab center but left soon after a friend called her the next day with news of Cobain's death. Cobain's
body was found when an electrician visiting the house to
install a security system went round The suicide note ended with the words "I love you, I love you." Two days after Kurt Cobain's body was found about 5,000 people gathered in Seattle for a candlelight vigil. the distraught crowd filled the air with profane chants, burnt their flannel shirts and fought with police. They also listened to a tape made by Cobain's wife in which she read from his suicide note. Several distressed teenagers in the U.S. and Australia killed themselves. The mainstream media was lambasted for it's lack of respect and understanding of youth culture. Whatever. I realise this was a bit takeing-the-piss, and if I've offended anyone I'm sorry. It's just this deification thing that really bothers me - at the end of they day, he was probably as fucked up as John Lennon, but not nearly so talented, and, a big difference, John Lennon struggled to stay alive... (respond to this article here)
Kurt
Cobain - Suicide Note To Boddah Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complain-ee. This note should be pretty easy to understand. All the warnings from the punk rock 101 courses over the years, since my first introduction to the, shall we say, the ethics involved with independence and the embracement of your community has proven to be very true. I haven't felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music along with reading and writing for too many years now. I feel guilty beyond words about these things. For example when we're backstage and the lights go out and the manic roar of the crowd begins, it doesn't affect me the way in which it did for Freddy Mercury, who seem to love, relish in the love and adoration from the crowd, which is somehting I totally admire and envy. The fact is, I can't fool you, any one of you. It simply isn't fair to you or me. The worst crime I can think of would be to rip people off by faking it and pretending as if I'm having 100% fun. Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch-in time clock before I walk out on stage. I've tried everything within my power to appreciate it (and I do, God believe me I do, but it's not enough). I appreciate the fact that I and we have affected and entertained a lot of people. I must be one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they're gone. I'm too sensitive. I need to be slightly numb in order to regain the enthusiasm I once had as a child. On our last 3 tours, I've had a much better appreciation for all the people I've known personally and as fans of our music, but I still can't get over the frustration, the guilt and empathy I have for everyone. There's good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad. The sad little sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man. Why don't you just enjoy it? I don't know! I have a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy and a daughter who reminds me too much of what I used to be, full of love and joy, kissing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point where I can barely function. I can't stand the thought of Frances becoming the miseraable, self-destructive, death rocker that I've become. I have it good, very good, and I'm grateful, but since the age of seven, I've become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along and have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much I guess. Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I'm too much of an erratic, moody, baby! I don't have the passion anymore, and so remember, it's better to burn out then to fade away. Peace, Love, Empathy. Kurt Cobain. Frances and Courtney, I'll be at your altar Please keep going Courtney, for Frances. for her life will be so much happier without me. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU
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BIOGRAPHY
Rumours!
So exciting a life, don't you think, when this is the thing
you're gossiping about!? Me, I - well, I'm not going to tell
you what I gossip about. But it's a lot better than
THAT!
the back of the house when no one answered the front door
and peered through windows. He thought he saw a mannequin
sprawled on the floor until he noticed a splotch of blood by
Cobain's ear. When police broke down the door they found
Cobain dead on the floor, a shotgun still pointed at his
chin and on a nearby counter a suicide note written in red
ink addressed to Love and the couples then 19 month old
daughter Frances Bean.
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