“I Miss the Comfort In Being Sad”

Today is the 10th anniversary of the suicide of Kurt Cobain. I hesitate to even write his name on my damn blog, because he (and his daughter) are Googled beyond belief – anytime I have written about them (and there was one brief post about his daughter – I will not put her name here) – I am overwhelmed by random people getting to me through Google searches, and writing incomprehensible ignorant comments.

If you ever want a boost in traffic, just write the words “Frances Bean Cobain” on your site- and watch the traffic fly.


I was a bit late to the Nirvana party, as I usually am – but once they got their hooks into me, I was lost. Lost in a world of admiration, awe, and love. “Lithium” is, hands down, one of their greatest songs. Perhaps my favorite. I never “get over” it. I never hear it, and have a complacent response – the response of someone who has heard a song 5,643 times. “Lithium” never fails to shock, or to generate some response. It is rare you can say that about songs. At least it is for me. There are only 2 other bands which continuously have the power to ‘GET’ me – to make me rise up out of myself – the music lifts me up out of the mundane – U2 and the Beatles are the only other two bands which have that honor.

“Smells Like Teen Spirit”, to me, is along the lines of those great and controversial books – books which end up being lightning rods for different groups with axes to grind. Catcher in the Rye, for example. Huck Finn. I recently re-read Catcher in the Rye for the first time in ages – and still was bombarded with its newness, its danger, its absolute insistence on playing by its own rules.

A good friend of mine said once, “There’s a reason why people who go up into clock-towers to blow away their neighbors often have Catcher in the Rye in their back pocket.” There was a long pause, as I contemplated these bizarre words. My friend added, lighting up a cigarette, “I try not to think about that book too much.”

“Smells Like Teen Spirit” has the same effect on me.

I try not to think about that song too much.

Ezra Pound commanded other poets to “Make it new”. “Make it new!” was his battlecry for modernist poets. Let poets shatter the old forms, let poets turn to non-traditional sources of inspiration … etc. Ezra Pound was, in my opinion, a bit of a blow-hard, and a bit of a wacko (just a bit!!) – but the “Make it new” command, while certainly a bit overblown, is a perfect battle-cry for any artist – who perhaps is overwhelmed by feelings that what he creates will not be accepted by the public – or that what he creates is ahead of its time, or that he is way too behind the times, etc.

Nirvana “made it new”. Of course what they really were doing were recycling old forms in a new and startling way – You can hear the Beatles in Nirvana’s music. You can definitely hear Metallica. They had a punk-rock sensibility – but also ushered in the whole loser grunge look.

Many imitators followed. Pale reflections. This does not diminish the startling originality and exciting sound of Nirvana. Just because those who came after (and who are STILL imitating them) are boring, and sound recycled – does not mean the original sound isn’t unbelievable.

Nirvana turned radio stations on their ears.

Nobody knew that Nirvana was coming. The late 80s music scene, as you all will recall, was dominated by Huey Lewis (nothing against Huey) and Madonna and insipid pop groups. It wasn’t a real acoustic sound, it certainly wasn’t a heavy sound – and radio-programming was extremely rigid. It had been a long time since there had been a revolution in how music actually sounded. (At least a long time in terms of pop culture trends.)

Nirvana shattered expectations. The publicity departments of the record company was completely unprepared for the mass hysteria which erupted, like a brush fire. They were not being pampered, they were not expected to bump Michael Jackson off the top 10 (which they did – only weeks after “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was released).

This is akin to Julia Roberts becoming a massive movie star after the release of “Pretty Woman”.

The PUBLIC decided that Julia Roberts was going to be the next big movie star. The PUBLIC chose her, anointed her, whatever. Her agent, the studio, etc – nobody was prepared for the insanity which exploded after that film was released. It didn’t even have a massive marketing budget. Julia Roberts was not on the covers of movie magazines, she was not being pointed to as “she’s the next It girl – look out – here she comes – Introducing: Julia Roberts!!”

You can see how the film industry starts to churn into spin-mode on occasion. They decide that Gretchen Mol is the next “It girl”. Or now it’s Sandra Bullock – or Charlize Theron … It wasn’t until Charlize Theron trashed her image as the “perpetual It girl” that she actually got the recognition she deserved.

Julia Roberts was on location in South Carolina, filming “Sleeping with the Enemy” when “Pretty Woman” opened. The opening weekend was astounding – numerically. It took everyone by surprise. And it built and built and built – the movie never stopped – the crowds got bigger and bigger and bigger – and suddenly Julia Roberts, an unknown 2 days before, was the biggest star in the world. She was on location, unaware of what was happening – not being in the center of the movie universe – and finally her agent called her and said, “Have you read the trades?” “No … what’s up?” “Uh … you’re a huge star. You can’t believe what is going on out here…”

Even her agent was surprised.

I love the story of the ascent of Julia Roberts for that reason. The movie-machine can decide FOR the public: Here is the next biggest star!!

Often, they are wrong. (Look at Heath Ledger. Matthew McConaghey. And the eternal example of Gretchen Mol.) Not that these people are not talented – not at all.

When the movie industry decided “Heath Ledger is going to be the next biggest star” – the press he started getting was WAY overblown compared to relatively thin body of work he had behind him. Which is fine – that’s the job of the spin doctors – They hope that some of their spin will stick.

But when the movie-going PUBLIC decides that they love someone – it is a whole different animal. You can FEEL the difference. (If you pay attention to this kind of stuff, I mean, and don’t just treat the entire enterprise with cynicism and scorn.) Public adulation becomes a runaway train. It is an outpouring of love. Not just admiration for someone’s talent – but love.

Nirvana was anointed by the PUBLIC. And yes – the timing was right. There had been a music scene developing for years in Seattle – kind of a local scene – but very powerful, with devoted fans. There was a larger and larger movement of people sick of what they were hearing on the radio – sick of pre-packaged acts – and pre-packaged looks – and related to the grungy look of these boys from Seattle.

His death pisses me off on multiple levels. And is one of the reasons why I am such a huge Dave Grohl (and Foo Fighters) fan.

Dave Grohl has bucked the odds. How does one top being in Nirvana? How does one top being in the band that changed everything? That spread throughout the world like a brush fire?

He has. I love to still see his smiling face, I love seeing him – (and he’s everywhere) … because he was a part of that original Phenom.

It’s like seeing Ringo Starr show up in an interview. I mean, it still kind of blows me away. “He was a Beatle. What was that like?”

I still regret that I never got to see Nirvana play. That would have been something else.

After the Beatles played in Giants stadium (I think it was Giants) – really, the first time a rock band played in a stadium – everyone thought they were insane and egotistical – and, of course, the concert sold out in 6 minutes … but anyway, people said that the screaming during the concert was so loud and so incessant, that no one could hear the music. But it didn’t matter. The screaming WAS the music.

Paul McCartney, when asked about that concert, said something along the lines of: “We couldn’t hear ourselves play. It was madness. And – you know – we were the only 4 people in that stadium who had never seen a Beatles concert … and we could hear everybody screaming and I thought – Wow. The Beatles must be pretty damn good, eh?”

I’m pissed that you killed yourself, Mr. Cobain, because I would have loved to see what you ended up doing, what collaborations you would have made, how your music would have evolved. Like your friend Dave Grohl.

Kurt Cobain and Miss Love named their daughter after Frances Farmer – the doomed 1940s movie actress (immortalized by Jessica Lange in the film “Frances”) who had basically been chased out of Seattle on a rail after writing an essay at age 14 entitled “There is no God”. Frances then went on to become involved in Russian theatre, she hooked up with The Group Theatre in New York – and then went to Hollywood – where her wildness, her impetuosity, her alcoholism, and her refusal to play by the rules made her multiple enemies, including her own mother – and she finally ended up in a mental institution – imprisoned there by her mother – where a lobotomy was performed. She was never the same again. The wildness and freedom of her spirit had been cut out. It is a brutal story – with no redemption.

Kurt Cobain, not surprisingly, was haunted by Frances Farmer – and she was the inspiration for the first song on their second album “In Utero”. It’s a great song. Filled with rage. It’s called “Frances Farmer will Have Her Revenge on Seattle”.

It’s so relieving to know that you’re leaving as soon as you get paid
It’s so relaxing to hear that you’re asking wherever you get your way
It’s so soothing to know that you’ll sue me, this is starting to sound the same
I miss the comfort in being sad
I miss the comfort in being sad
I miss the comfort in being sad

In her false withness, we hope you’re still with us, to see if they float or drown
Our favorite paitent, a display of patience, disease-covered Puget Sound
She’ll come back as fire, to burn all the liars, and leave a blanket of ash on the ground
I miss the comfort in being sad
I miss the comfort in being sad
I miss the comfort in being sad

It’s so relieving to know that you’re leaving as soon as you get paid
It’s so relaxing to know that you’re asking wherever you get your way
It’s so soothing to know that you’ll sue me, this is starting to sound the same
I miss the comfort in being sad
I miss the comfort in being sad
I miss the comfort in being sad

RIP, Kurt Cobain. I hope you have found your comfort.

And Francis Bean: may you find your comfort as well.

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13 Responses to “I Miss the Comfort In Being Sad”

  1. That Cobain Feller

    I know everybody and their cousin are going to be writing about Kurt Cobain today. Sheila’s got a beautiful entry here. I’ll admit I haven’t spun the Nirvana CDs in ages, though I was a pretty big fan when “Smells…

  2. Ash says:

    I am amazed that there are no comments yet, and though I have something to actually say, first I will be childish and post this.

  3. red says:

    My traffic was through the roof yesterday because of this post, and an old thing I had written about Francis Bean … but no ignorant hostile comments. Thank God. I’m in no mood for that shit.

  4. Ash says:

    Ah. When “alternative rock” was alternative. I was a grad student, and listened to a lot of college radio, and was pretty into “alternative” when Nirvana emerged. (Now I’m pretty sick of it; how can you have an entire decade without bouncy happy music? How wierd it is that in the Exuberant Nineties pop music was dominated by depressing music. No wonder there was a little neoswing boom towards the end. The girls gotta dance to *something*.)

    Despite the fact that Cobain was a messed-up, drug-addicted, and whiney individual, the Nirvana moment was good and important. Because, yes, it signified the emergence the post baby boom generation as a cultural force.

    Prior to the Nirvana moment, Generation X had not sufficiently assumed the controls to speak for itself about itself. Instead, we got Boomer impressions of Generation X. (Remember “slackers”? How accurate was that, ultimately?)

    == more ==

  5. Ash says:

    Although much can be said negative about Nirvana and Cobain, they and their following were definitely Generation X. Think about it; most generations music is written and performed by people a generation older then them. Madonna was a boomer. Talking Heads, Bruce Springsteen, all boomers. (The Beatles were a generation older than boomers. Ditto Bob Dylan. See the pattern?)

    Nowadays, most everything we see on TV and listen to on the radio is written, produced, etc., by our generation.

    Nirvana was a cultural moment, for me anyway, because Cobain was born the same month as me.

    It’s silly, but sometimes I think that way.

  6. Ash says:

    The next such generation-shifting cultural moment is due around 2010.

    One last thing: Cobain’s mom said something great to Cobain before he died. She asked him to “not join the stupid club”, referring to the “club” of celebrity victims of drug excess.

    When Cobain did die, some magazine (Vanity Fair?) published an EXCELLENT mural-like illustration of Cobain arriving at “The Stupid Club”, where a host of dead celebs (Belushi, Joplin, etc.) awaited him.

    I WANT THAT ILLUSTRATION AND CAN FIND IT NOWHERE. It’s pre-WWW, and may be lost forever.

  7. red says:

    Ash –

    Great comments. I so appreciate your words.

    A cultural moment, indeed. A generation choosing their own sound. I love their sound.

    And why don’t you go to a public library – where they might have back issues of Vanity Fair? NYPL has that kind of stuff in archives. You could probably narrow down the issue it appeared in, because of the date of his suicide.

  8. Ash says:

    Re: old-fashioned library search.

    Yes, that would work. It would also require more time than I have been willing thus far to invest in this strange desire to own that image. (It was two magazine-pages, like a centerfold, BTW.)

    I guess I’m just annoyed because I can’t summon it up with Google…

  9. red says:

    Yeah, that centerfold format sounds like Vanity Fair.

  10. blacky says:

    when i discovered cobain an nirvana bout kurt spoke to me on so many different levels in so many different ways the songs arnt/wernt like any1 elses you could pick a layer that applied to you and find some comfort in the fact he felt the same way you do he died so we could remember what music should be…expression of yourself and what you are frances bean be proud that it was your dad that did that ok. KURT WE MISS YOU R.I.P X

  11. jasmine says:

    damn how i want people to understand that kurt was murdered and god knows how i want frances to grow older so she would start saying what’s really on her mind

  12. That Cobain Feller

    I know everybody and their cousin are going to be writing about Kurt Cobain today. Sheila’s got a beautiful entry here. I’ll admit I haven’t spun the Nirvana CDs in ages, though I was a pretty big fan when “Smells…

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