A Grunge Life

I had the chance to watch the documentary "Malfunkshun: The Andrew Wood Story" yesterday. To a viewer in their twenties, it probably would be nothing to write home about. It's the usual "boy comes from dysfunctional family and decides to become a rock star and dies from drug over dose just as his band is making it" story. We've all heard a ton of these stories. It's nothing original.

But I am not in my twenties. I am in my (sigh) mid-thirties. I grew up in the 90s. I was a Grunge Kid. I was flannel and ripped jeans. I was red hair and I was green hair. I was Doc Martins and Chuck Taylors. I don't mean to discount those younger viewers, but this film meant a little bit more to me than them. Although the major players in the movie are a few years older than me (most of them were in their 20s in the 1990s while I was a teenager for most of that decade), I still related to them while watching them talk about Andrew Wood and Mother Love Bone and the Grunge Scene.

The best/worst part for me while watching the documentary was that even if I had the volume turned all the way down, I would still feel extremely nostalgic about those days. All it took were the images of the shows in warehouses and tiny clubs to take me back to my youth. Although I have never lived in Seattle or Washington state (where a majority of this film took place), I did have that scene here in Western New York. I was at the center of that scene, locally. The clothes and the footwear and the hair was just set dressing. For some of us. We didn't all look the same. But, I think, we all felt the same. And a lot of those feelings came flooding back to me as I sat and watched this movie.

Even though I came from a functional, happy family, I was miserable. I never felt like I belonged. I never felt happy. But then a friend of mine played a cassette of a band that I had never heard of and a switch went off in my head or my soul or something. From that point on, everything changed. I finally had people who were going through similar things as me (or at least they sang as though they were). I had an outlet for my emotions, I had a support system. I had people. They were My People. One of us would steal our parents' cars and we'd drive to Buffalo. In Buffalo there were so many more of us. Many of them hung out in or near Home of the Hits.

For those who don't know what Home of the Hits was, I shed a tear for you. Home of the Hits was the greatest record store. Ever. It was full of hand-made zines and gig posters. I would look through the stacks of records of bands I had never heard of and talk to the owner about the music. I would meet like-minded people and we'd talk about which bands we should check out. It was like cool-music heaven. Of course it wasn't just us Grunge Kids there. We met a lot of cool Punk People and Rude Boys and Straight Edgers to name just a few. And we didn't hate each other because we were into different music. We actually got along with each other and the older ones would show the younger ones some interesting bands to check out. We were all connected.

And watching the film, it was the same way in Seattle. When Mother Love Bone started, it was made up of guys from a few different local bands (Green River, Skin Yard, Malfunkshun, and Ten Minute Warning). The lead singer (Andrew Wood) lived with the lead singer of another local Seattle band (Chris Cornell of Soundgarden). They were all friends. Their bands all played shows with each other. They all helped each other. And when Mother Love Bone disbanded after the death of Andrew Wood, the members of the band went on to form two or three other bands. Without Mother Love Bone, we would never have Temple of the Dog, and Pearl Jam. Members of this band later went on to play in Brad, Mudhoney, and Love Battery, among others. Name any band that came up in the late-80s/early 90s in the Seattle area, and it's pretty probable that they are connected to Andrew Wood by two or three degrees of separation.

Watching this movie made me sad. I wasn't sad for the passing of Andrew Wood, which was sad in itself because of the potential that Mother Love Bone had, but I was sad because of the death of The Grunge Scene. Sure, a few of the bands that made it are still touring and still making records, but it's not the same. Alice in Chains has a new lead singer, Pearl Jam is playing arenas, and Soundgarden is just now getting back together after being broken up for over ten years. It's not the same. But nothing really is.

I can go on and on with my Peter Pan dreams of how I wish the 90s never ended, but it's kind of good that it did end. A lot of those bands imploded and died for a reason. And it was the same for my friends and me. Too much excess creates rips and tears and scraps and stupid decisions and death. Nothing is meant to last forever. Just look at the Rolling Stones. If I grew up in the 60s, I think I would look at that band as a laughing stock. And as a kid from the 90s, I do not want to see Pearl Jam on tour in 2051. Everything and everyone has a shelf life. Sure, I miss the hell out of all of my friends and all the great times we had and all the stupid stuff we did, but I couldn't be doing that still. Living as much as I did in the 90s has turned me into an old man (or an old-feeling man) in his mid-30s.

But the memories, man. It's all about those damn memories. And the music. And the chronic nostalgia.

Words and music, my only tools
Communication
Let's fall in love with music
The driving force of our livings
The only international language
link

Just a Ghost

I was in Niagara Falls the other day wasting time and I made the mistake of driving around Cayuga Island.

I used to have a lot of friends that lived in that part of LaSalle. I spent a big chunk of my youth on that island.

I can't think of the name of it now, but there's a road all the way in the back along the river. There are some beautiful houses back there. There was a girl who lived for a short time in one of those houses.

Of course this is about a girl, Chaz.

I used to go over and help her with her math homework. There was one day I remember so vividly: it was a sunny spring day and she's waiting for me on her porch. It's a big red/rust colored brick house with a big porch with fire wood stacked in one corner and a swing/bench thingie on the other side. And she's sitting on the edge of the porch in her Doc Martens and plaid skirt and black wife-beater tank top. Although we didn't call them "wife-beaters" back then. We went for a drive and cranked the tunes up and went real fast.

She was friends with all my friends.

This little group has always been and always will until the end.

The problem is she was only in town for the school year then she disappeared. She told us she was from Toronto, but that could have just been a story. There are also no pictures of her. I found one I took in the lunchroom or something & she's in the background, but she's totally out of focus and blurry.

And when I was driving down her old street the other day I couldn't find her house. There were houses with big porches, but they weren't brick. And the brick houses didn't have the same kind of porch. Or they were laid out differently. Or they weren't as close to the road as her house was.

Maybe she was just a ghost. Maybe we just imagined her. Maybe she was a figment of my imagination.

But she seemed so real.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7

Entry Sixteen

I have been super extremely nostalgic today.

I've been thinking WAY too much about high school and the nineties and life before all this technology took control of my life. I'm not exactly sure why my mind has wandered to my younger self and my old friends and the times we used to have.
They weren't always good times, but they were memorable.

"This little group has always been and always will until the end..."

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if my friends and I stayed together, stayed alive, stayed in one piece... would I be a different person? Would I be in a different place? Would I still be alive?

I think it's better that I don't think about it. For now.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5

Entry Eleven

What is the greatest place in Buffalo?
I mean, I know why people like Buffalo: the people. And the fact that houses & apartments are so cheap.

But what is the best place in this fine city?

I used to say Caffe Aroma. But now that I don't work there anymore, I have kind of moved on. It's small and it's snobby and... half of that is why I loved it so much.

Could HSBC Arena be the best place? The Sabres are a great team, but is that because of where they play? I think not. Besides, everytime I think of the Arena, I miss The Aud just a little bit more.

I guess Elmwood Village is a place. But it's a collection of places really. Can the entire village be the best place in Buffalo if it includes a fast-food coffee shop and a handful of empty high-rent storefronts? Elmwood Village ten years ago was better. Smaller, yes, but definitely less high-end and trendy.

Hertel Avenue reminds me a lot of what Elmwood used to be. Or what Allen could be. Just with more Italians. The locally owned shops and restaurants, the old-fashioned movie theater (that still shows indie and art-house films!), and the combination of new and old architecture is a great draw for locals. But it's hard to tell out-of-towners about it because it's not really near any hotels.

The Old Pink is great. But dirty. And anyone over 30 has had enough late nights at The Pink to last a lifetime.

Fayretty's is cool, but only when it's warm out. The same with Cozumel. Or anywhere with a decent patio.

Speaking of bars, could Chippewa be considered the best place in Buffalo? It's pretty popular on weekends and after a Sabres game and after Thursday At The Square. But again, it's mostly for the under-30 crowd, yes?

Should I be throwing places under the bus because I'm "too old" to enjoy them? I must admit my favorite place in Buffalo no longer exists. It's literally a hole in the ground. I enjoyed my younger days there and I feel as if I'd still be hanging out on Franklin near West Huron if that club wasn't run into the ground, left empty for over four years, and then used as a make-shift shelter and dumpster by vagrants, and then eventually torn down.

So what is YOUR vote for The Best Place in Buffalo? Is it somewhere that's still standing and in operation (as opposed to my vote!)? Why does it get your vote?

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5