My friend Desi and I went to see Linkin Park at Jiffy Lube Live on Wednesday. I’ve been listening to this band for years but this was the first time I saw them. The show was terrific, but even more impressive is Chester Bennington’s ability to sing like he does without losing his voice. Once again, I took a bunch of lousy photos that I feel compelled to share just because.
I went to see KISS and Def Leppard at Jiffy Lube Live on Friday, July 25, 2014. It was my fourth time seeing KISS and my seventh time seeing Def Leppard. Photos always turn out lousy for this but I take them anyway because I feel I’m supposed to at least try, like everyone else snapping lousy photos on their phone. Continue reading “KISS and Def Leppard”
Today marks the 20th anniversary of Kurt Cobain’s death. I’d say he was the Jimi Hendrix/Jim Morrison of my generation (it’s called Generation X – a term I despise but who am I kidding? That’s what it is). I became a fan the first few seconds of hearing Nirvana play ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ on Saturday Night Live. Goodbye, 80’s metal, this was the music I’d be listening to in high school and college. To this day, I hear this music and it’s suddenly the 90s again.
I believe 1991 was one of the best years for music in recent memory, when Nevermind, Pearl Jam’s Ten, Metallica’s Black album and Red Hot Chilli Peppers Blood Sugar Sex Magik all came out. Cobain and Nirvana rose to the top. Cobain’s death left a gaping hole as the 90s continued with related but not Nirvana acts like the Smashing Pumpkins, Soundgarden and Stone Temple Pilots.
It wasn’t just the music. I’m a huge fan of Iron Maiden and Def Leppard, and as much as I like Bruce Dickinson and Joe Elliot, those singers didn’t captivate me like Cobain. It was Cobain’s voice, singing those deep-yet-simple lyrics, and that tortured (aka grunge) look. Perhaps we even owe it to his drug abuse and inner demons that contributed to the aura around him that was more likely to fascinate folks than push them away. This was a far cry from the big-hair-glam rock of the 80s, which suddenly became an afterthought. Cobain hypnotized audiences in ways that other talented musicians didn’t. He spoke to us, even when we didn’t quite understand what he was saying.
I sometimes picture an alternate reality where I walk out of the rain and into a dark Seattle coffee shop. In the corner, I see the glow of a cigarette and the silhouette of a man with shoulder-length hair and an acoustic guitar. He waves me over, and I take a seat nearby. He strums the guitar and sings for me, perhaps Come as You Are, and I just sit and listen, in a virtual trance. As the song concludes, he fades away, but the image and sound stays with me for the rest of my life.
I am not writing anything today – 20 years after his death – that I wouldn’t have written ten or 15 years ago. In fact, the moment the news broke that he had died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound, it was apparent to me that he was a man I would write about at some point, even two decades later.
Rest in peace, Kurt.
Marilyn Manson and Alice Cooper played at Merriweather Post Pavilion on Monday. Manson opened for Cooper (well, technically Gwar opened for them), and the two performed a duet of ‘I’m 18’ for the final song. Manson even kissed Cooper’s boots on stage.
I was lucky enough to get the first seat in front of the pit, one of the best seats I’ve ever had at a show.
Marilyn Manson
Alice Cooper
I saw the band Gwar at Merriweather Post Pavilion on Monday. Having only heard rumors that it’s the worst band ever, I was there to verify it myself. Then again, that’s part of the joke, though kudos to them for spraying fake blood all over fans and telling them to shut up after songs. They played on the small stage in the back, which was the first time I saw it put to use at this venue. Most folks showed up to see Marilyn Manson and Alice Cooper, anyway, which I’ll post about later.
Other than the band, the only other interesting thing I saw that I likely won’t forget was an actual skinhead (apparently by himself) being escorted out by security. Apparently, he was ‘being way to aggressive,’ but found that arguing about it was in his best interest. He was one of the scariest people I’ve ever seen. Intense, profane, built like a rock with a Nazi eagle back tattoo… crazy… One of the security guards, Josh Burdette, aka ‘That guy from 9:30 Club” (who I went to college with) showed remarkable professionalism in dealing with this nitwit. I told him this. He died a few months later.
“Thank you, sir. That situation could have easily gotten ugly,” he told me over Facebook. It was one of the few times I spoke with Josh, in person or online. “I’m glad we were able to resolve it without anyone getting hurt.”
(Post updated Sept. 4, 2013 in light of Josh Burdette’s death on Sept. 1.)
