It might be the weed, but this morning I was struck by the revelation that not only do I know every single word of a song I’ve utterly despised for over thirty years, but I think I don’t utterly despise it anymore.
Tag Archives: Seattle
I Feel Stupid And Contagious
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Faint Signals, Nostalgic Obsessions, Thousand Listen Club
The Mask of Virtue
Before we begin; I hope for both our sakes that you’re wearing your protective mask while reading this. I can’t actually see you, so I have to implement the “honor system” and presume you’re a “good neighbor” who won’t somehow infect me with mystery germs through the endless tubes of the internet. I know you’re better than that; I can tell by the fancy mask you’re no doubt sporting inside the house you’ve been confined to for the past four months. Even though, as stated, I can’t actually see you.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Idiot's Delight, Worst Of All
Father’s Dead
Mark my words. As soon as it becomes feasible, the father will be erased from the family unit forever. The word and the concept will be abolished and nullified. You can bet your life savings on it happening in the next five years.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Nostalgic Obsessions, Unfairly Maligned, Worst Of All
Not The Nineties!
The May 2000 issue of The Last Laugh contained a do-it-yourself board game as its centerfold. It was called Not The Nineties!
I don’t know if anyone ever played it; I doubt it. The potshots are pretty brutal for a fun diversion. What can I say, the 1990s were actually pretty brutal themselves. The game provides a reasonably accurate simulation of trudging through ten unpleasant years.
(Printable game board included at the end of this article!)
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Magazine Rack
Mad Season
Threading the needle. That was Seattle music in 1994. A desperate, futile gambit to save what few musicians remained from Lady Heroin’s clutches. Cobain was dead. A hideous monster was uncovered, in that bands came to realize that their labels would capitalize upon their deaths just as they would their lives. It’s one of the sickest, most repugnant eras in recording history.
Pearl Jam, Seattle, 1991.
Mike McCready, guitarist for none other than Pearl Jam, entered rehab for drugs and alcohol during the production of Vitalogy, in Minneapolis. Just imagine the options for debauchery that McCready was presented with; you can’t. I can’t. Pearl Jam has sold around 60 million albums worldwide. When that happens, secret people offer you more of something you like than you’ve ever seen, or knew existed. Anyone would give anything (or say anything) to be with you. Continue reading
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Filed under Faint Signals, Thousand Listen Club
Soundgarden
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Filed under Comix Classic & Current, Eatable Things, Saturday Movie Matinee
Hole
The closest you can get to “a good Hole song” is the following. If there exists a female voice that science could prove is subconscious torture to heterosexual men, it would be Courtney Love’s. Continue reading
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions
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