At the time “Smells Like Teen
Spirit” was released, my musical tastes were already reasonably eclectic. I was
digging classic rock, metal, Motown, easy listening, disco, 80’s pop, new wave
etc. etc. I had never heard of Nirvana and grunge wasn’t really a thing. Cliché
as it sounds, that video changed everything. (Good fucking heavens, that really
is a cliché. This whole article is going to suck because of it.)
The fact that I can remember exactly where I was and what I was doing the first time I heard that song/saw the video is not the slightest bit impressive. I was a 15-year-old with one friend and no life. What else would I have been doing beyond sitting on my bedroom floor, painting and smoking a cigarette, while engrossed in my own loud thoughts? (A thoroughly exciting existence. I fancied myself a tragic artist with the depth of a poet and no need for a curfew, because I never left the house. I was a rebel, goddamnit. I played by my own rules!) Needless to say (but I’ll say it anyway), that video momentarily pulled me out of my mental stupor (no simple feat). I wanted to rage right along with those kids, but I couldn’t move (and my parents would’ve had me hospitalized). The video left me thinking “what the fuck did I just watch?!?! What the fuck kind of music is that?!?! Who the FUCK are those guys?!?!”
This was arguably the moment that defined both the 90’s and Generation X, as far as music is concerned. We were bored and frustrated and angry and depressed and apathetic. We were powder kegs. What a lovely bunch of coconuts! We knew we were lacking something, we just didn’t know what it was until we were slapped in the face with it. Everything changed. Music changed. All of a sudden, we had Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Screaming Trees, Mudhoney, the Gits; all of these bands that had been underground for years exploded and took over, grunge took over.
People either love grunge, or they hate it; it’s not a genre one can feel indifferent about. A person can grow to appreciate grunge, but it’ll never truly be a part of them. (Remember Richard Gere explaining opera to Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman? It’s kind of like that. Did you hear the quote in your head when I used the whole ‘appreciation’ bit? I know I did.)
Meanwhile, back in the early- to mid-90’s, Dave was listening to everything but grunge. Dave was the happy kid, the positive kid, the (responsible) Deadhead. Dave hated Nirvana. To him, it wasn’t music at all; more like a depressing cacophonous noise. This, of course, made me sad. Contrary to popular opinion, I do not like to be sad.
I knew it was impossible to force Dave to love Nirvana, so I opted to go the “Edward Lewis” ‘appreciation’ route. This took years, but I really didn’t have anything better to do. My argument went as such: hate the band all you want, but you need to recognize the fact that they defined a generation and changed music forever. I eventually wore him down with that one. And then, a proud moment that I had never so much as dreamed of.
For several years, Dave had a sweet gig as operations manager for…I guess you could call it a glorified trailer park/condo/vacation community. Venture Out is not officially a 55+ community, but most of its residents are senior citizens. So one day he overhears these two 60-somethings reminiscing (or gushing, whatever you want to call it) about seeing the Beatles on Ed Sullivan for the first time. Changed their whole world, right? We know this. My husband (ever the conversationalist) couldn’t resist the opportunity to interject.
Now before anyone flips me off for comparing the two, bear in mind that the Beatles are my favorite group of all time. Dave’s argument went as such: teenagers really didn’t have their own music before the Beatles hit the scene. Yes, there was Elvis and Elvis was a groundbreaker, but Baby Boomers were kind of beyond that by the time the oldest ones became teenagers. They were riding the coattails of the Silent Generation; nothing was really theirs. And then…February 9, 1964 happened and it was the ultimate game-changer. It wasn’t just music that changed, it was an entire generation and, effectively, the world. The change was so drastic that 55 years later, we’re still feeling the ripple effect; 55 years later, young musicians are still bowing to the influence. And what did the older generations think of these lovable moptops? They fucking hated them. Beatles music was noise. Their long hair made them look all derelict and such (even though they wore suits). And what was this strange and frightening influence they had over teenage girls-turned screaming banshees? These girls were obsessed, hysterical; they were, dare I say, horny (clutch the pearls)! (Okay, so Dave didn’t actually use the word ‘horny’ when making his case to these ladies, but it was probably implied.)
The two key parallels that Dave drew were a change of historical proportions, and the fact that the older generations just didn’t get it. The bottom line was that Nirvana should be recognized and respected for blowing up Generation X in the same way that the Beatles blew up the Baby Boomers. Hell, even millennials are still digging both.
Well, needless to say (but I’ll say it anyway), the ladies weren’t buying it.
I was equal parts shocked and elated when Dave relayed this little exchange. I was so proud, in fact, that I could even bring myself to say “I told you so.”
So, at that point Dave was all hyped up and was psyched to listen to some Nirvana (at work). I said, “here’s the order you need to listen in: Nevermind, Bleach, Incesticide, Nirvana: Unplugged, In Utero. And remember that In Utero is a virtual suicide note from start to finish, so really listen.” All morning long, I kept getting ‘this is so awesome!’ texts. By mid-afternoon, he said the music was great and he had a whole new perspective and appreciation, but he had to stop listening because hours of Kurt Cobain’s lyrics made him depressed to the point where he wanted to curl up into a little ball. Well…that was enough for me. All I wanted was the recognition.
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