Growing up in the Backstreet Boys era, it was a bit hard for me to backtrack and appreciate true music. When I was about 11, everyone was dancing and singing to “Quit Playin’ Games” like boneless retards.
Luckily, my two brothers – biological and in-law – both grew up in the early 90s. That was when New Wave was dying and alternative rock was on a roll. It was also the time when grunge went mainstream.
It was then that I stumbled upon a Nirvana CD (yes, you know, as in compact disc). It was out of sheer curiosity that I picked up that album, probably also because of the awesome cover art: it was a photograph of a baby submerged in a swimming pool, trying to catch a dollar bill attached on a fishing hook. That album was called – you guessed it – Nevermind, and little did I know then that it's one of the best selling albums – in any genre – of all time.
And there's good reason why it was so groundbreaking.
Come As You Are. Lithium. In Bloom. Polly. And of course, Smells Like Teen Spirit.
It was my baptism into the church of rock. I had heard these songs on the radio beforehand, but I never really got to appreciate them until I had played that CD. If I hadn’t (re)discovered Nirvana on that day, I might have ended up a Westlife fan going into high school.
Kurt Cobain was the last true rock star. A lot of artists today claim that that they hate being popular and would like to get away from it all if they had the chance, but Kurt was one of the few who really made it stick. He would almost puke every time someone expressed worship or admiration for him. He deflected praises as if they were poisonous substances.
And ultimately, it also became the reason why he put a shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
Read his suicide note here.
He was getting too popular. He didn’t want to write songs just to please the fans - he did it for self expression. He couldn’t handle the media attention and the pressures of his label. He just wanted to be an underground grunge band in Seattle. He was a musician, not a poster child.
When he ended his life, people must have thought, “Wow, this guy was the real deal.”
Happy birthday Kurt Cobain. Thanks for the music and the inspiration.
PS: A month before Kurt committed suicide, Justin Bieber was born, which makes 1994 the worst year in music history. Thank you very much.
Photo Credits: TechDigest.tv | Theseus.info | PSSL.com
