Grunge Is Dead

by Greg Prato

  KIM THAYIL: There was the Golden Crown, that we played at a couple of times our first year. The Bad Brains played there once for five bucks. And then they started booking more local acts. It was upstairs from this Chinese restaurant. The Golden Crown was more downtown.

  JEFF AMENT: When I think about when it really happened, I think about the Ditto Tavern. There were basically ten or twelve bands playing two or three nights a week. A bunch of great bands came out of that — Feast, Bundle of Hiss. It was really small — fifty to 100 people. It was a real friendly, competitive vibe. It was like, “Show us what you’ve got.” I remember being at those shows and being psyched, like, “Wow, our little bands are getting good.”

  CONRAD UNO: I tended bar at [the Rainbow Tavern], and [ Jonathan] Poneman and KCMU started having Tuesday nights there. It was a tavern — your typical beer and wine pub — but they had music there for twenty years. The main indication for me was that they started having these Tuesday nights, and they started being big nights.

  LIBBY KNUDSON: The Central in Pioneer Square was always kinda walking the gauntlet, because that was “Fratville” down there.

  MATT FOX: The Motor Sports Garage was this old shell of a garage. It was really cavernous — probably built in the ’20s or ’30s. By then, it was almost semi-destroyed. It was an odd place — there was a big, expansive parking lot. It was in the part of town by the Re-bar and rkcndy, where there wasn’t much else in service around there.

  The Accüsed rock the Metropolis, January 6, 1984 (note Ben Shepherd in the crowd on left)

  BEN REW: I worked at the Paramount and the Moore Theatre. The Paramount didn’t look like it does now. They would have showcases, and it would be half full. It was pretty rundown — they kind of modernized it when they redid it.

  JEFF GILBERT: Some of the better ones were some of the worst ones — i.e., Squid Row. If you looked under “shit hole dive” in the dictionary, it would have their picture there. But that was the thing — the metal guys were always smarter. They found ways to do bigger and better shows — they would rent halls. Throw their own kegger parties outdoors on hand-built stages. The grunge guys never did that. They would just pack themselves in insanely small corners, and the feedback was horrendous. And nobody knew to turn it down — to play less than ten would mean you’re not serious. These places stunk so bad — from the bathrooms that never got cleaned, to the beer that spilled and never got mopped up. The grunge crowd, I’ve got to tell you, these people did not bathe. And you put them in a room that gets sweaty and hot — ugh. I swear, it would bring tears to your eyes. It was like moshing with rancid onion people. The metal guys all just smelled of beer and leather.

  MARK SMITH: Early on, nobody cared. I mean, The Rocket cared.

  GRANT ALDEN: I worked at The Rocket — I was there for seven years and two weeks. Charlie Cross and I had gone to college together, and I had written for Charlie in college. When we were both getting out of college, The Rocket was briefly for sale — but it really wasn’t, it was just sold to the people who were working on it. Charlie and I talked about buying it, and then six years later I think, it went on the market again. It had been owned by a sort of consortium of people, who had taken equity in lieu of salary. And many of them no longer lived in Seattle, so it was agreed to sell it. Charlie was in a position to buy it, and I wasn’t, so I went to work for him. A couple of years after I started, Charlie got a contract to do a Springsteen book, and gave me the magazine to run while he was doing that book. Then he got another deal to do a Led Zeppelin book. So it ended up being four or five years that he was doing books and I was managing editor. He came back and I left. I worked from February of ’87 to March of ’94 — I was managing editor from March of ’89 to March of ’94. I got to know my way around the music industry. I got to have a career by having that job at that time that I would not otherwise have had.

  ART CHANTRY: Everybody hated The Rocket because it always had a snotty attitude towards everybody. It’s been kind of erased from the history, but the truth is The Rocket was the kiosk/information-point/gathering-point for the Seattle underground. Without The Rocket, half these bands would have never formed, because that’s where they met each other — through the free musician classified in the back. Even Nirvana formed out of that. And Sub Pop Records began as a column in The Rocket. Art directors for Newsweek, Village Voice, Metropolis, Vibe, Vanity Fair, and many others started out at The Rocket. So I ended up becoming the art director [at The Rocket], and I was probably the most notorious of all the art directors — I was art director four times over ten years. Through that, I started to meet more and more of these people. You might walk in, and Kim Thayil would be hanging out, or maybe even Robert Crumb would be there for some reason. It was this amazing flow of people.

  GRANT ALDEN: When Charlie bought The Rocket, he thought that the way to make it more viable was to put bigger name national acts on the cover. As it happened, about the time Charlie got those book contracts, there started to be local music that was compelling. Now, there were staff arguments about direction — constantly — to the extent that I rose to power as the voice of those who argued we should cover local music. I got to work with incredibly gifted designers. I got to work with a couple of the best photographers in the country — notably Charles Peterson.

  CHARLES PETERSON: I shot in black-and-white for two reasons. One was economic, and it’s kind of all I knew really — from my experience with the high school newspaper and yearbook — as well as by photographers like Robert Frank, Garry Winogrand. It has a certain resonance to it that color doesn’t. But beyond that, you can develop it yourself in your bathroom. From my friend’s bands’ purposes, what they usually needed was black-and-white versus color at that point. As far as “the flash and drag shutter effect” goes, I took that one from Garry Winogrand — the classic street photographer from the ’60s and ’70s — I saw a series that he did at the Fort Worth Rodeo, and he used that effect. I started playing around with that, and for a while, took it to the extreme.

  ART CHANTRY: Charles Peterson was like a “photographer’s photographer.” He is by far the best photographer — the guy is brilliant. [Sub Pop] exploited the shit out of him — I don’t think they ever paid him a dime for anything. They traded letting him use their bathroom as a darkroom in exchange for free photos.

  TOM HAZELMYER: I think one factor overlooked in the development of Seattle musically was the fact that the city had more good record stores than any city its size should normally be able to support. Places like Fallout were as vital if not more so than any club at the time. I remember meeting more folks that way than in any club setting.

  MATT VAUGHAN: Fallout is essentially where Sub Pop was born. I think their office was there, behind the store for the first year or two. Those [Sub Pop] tapes were coming out of there — and all those early singles — right out the back of the record store. So that gives you an idea of how influential a record store can be to what became the scene — Sub Pop essentially renting space from a record store that was only about 500 square feet. Cellophane Square was the spot in the U District. It was more of a garagey scene. The Replacements probably broke right out of that store — as far as turning people on to that band.

  KATHY FENNESSY: I worked at Cellophane Square in the U District. Sometimes [Nirvana] would come in, and Mark Lanegan, Matt Cameron, Kim Thayil. I would find out what they were into. I remember Kurt [Cobain] bought a Bats album — [1990’s] The Law of Things. Very un-grungy.

  JOHNNY RUBATO: At [Rubato Records] we were a music/cultural connection for many suburban kids who were looking for something a little more rock ’n’ roll than their malls were giving them.

  MATT VAUGHAN: On the west side of town, you had Penny Lane, which is where I was working. It closed and I opened Easy Street in ’88 while still a freshman at Seattle U.

  SCOTT VANDERPOOL: The fun part was a fair amount of the Sub Pop roster was working at Muzak. There was this big tape duplication room, and they would all
call me at the radio station when I was on, and make requests. Everybody’s music influences would come together on this radio station. KCMU was all volunteer at the time. For example, Friday afternoons were me and then Mark Arm.

  MARK IVERSON: KCMU was totally listener-sponsored, listener-powered — just like WFMU. [Playing local bands] was highly encouraged, and we were lucky, because we had really good local music. Bruce Pavitt used to be at KCMU, as was Kim Thayil — there was a bit of a legacy at the station. And Mark Arm used to be there — it was always fun to read his comments on the records. He’d used his real initials — his name is Mark McLaughlin — so if he liked an album, he’d write, “MM … good!” Quite a lot different from what it’s evolved into — KEXP. There was a local show called “Audio Oasis,” which was really good.

  SCOTT VANDERPOOL: In the late ’80s, because I made enough of a stink at KCMU, I got offered a job at a commercial station — KXRX. There wasn’t really what they would call an “alternative station” now, at that time. There had been KZAM, “the rock of the ’80s” — they folded.

  DAVID KINCAID: We had a great radio station, am sort of modern rock that was alternative — KJET. Jim Keller was the program director — he would play everything — anything that wasn’t commercial. And he would play a lot of local stuff.

  JOE NEWTON: There was a station called KRAB that was really eclectic — more eclectic than KCMU at that time.

  CATHY FAULKNER: KISW had two specialty shows — one was called “Seattle Zone.” Damon Stewart introduced the community to a lot of bands before anybody knew who they were. Almost to a point where it was like we were beyond our “Seattle quota,” and it was hard to balance it with a lot of the other national bands. The shows ended up becoming completely local and almost incestuous.

  CHAPTER 7

  “The punk rock David Lee Roth”: Malfunkshun

  To many, grunge music is associated with flannel shirts and Doc Martens boots. However, one of the first-ever grunge acts was glam-based — Malfunkshun. The group featured flamboyant singer/bassist Andy Wood, and despite their glitzy attire and makeup, proved to be a major influence and favorite of future renowned grunge bands.

  DALE CROVER: We were at the Gorilla Gardens, and Buzz [Osborne] is telling me, “There’s this band that’s going to play, Malfunkshun, and their bass player dresses like a chick. He’s really pretty looking. He says he’ll walk down the street and dudes will whistle at him — then they realize he’s a guy!” As he’s telling me this, I’m listening, but also watching this really cute girl in a fur coat with white pancake makeup walking to the stage. I’m watching this girl take her bass up onstage, plug in, and then go to the mic, and say something, and I’m like, “OH!” They had really funny stage banter — them being from “Olympus” and playing “love rock,” with “Landrew,” and “Thundarr” on drums. They were really wild — they had this guitar player who constantly played crazy leads. Almost Eddie Van Halen–style, but sometimes no rhyme or reason at all — it didn’t matter if it was in key.

  SLIM MOON: Landrew took the whole glam thing to its ultimate/most ridiculous conclusion. He was on a complete separate track from the ’80s glam thing — the post–Van Halen, hair metal, L.A. thing. He took the original ’70s influences as far as you could — Marc Bolan, Elton John, and KISS. This character, Landrew the Love God from Mount Olympus. But the songs were good.

  DAVE REES: I moved to Bainbridge Island in 1974, meeting Andy Wood shortly after that. I was in seventh grade, he was in fourth. I was home sick from school — Andy came to our house with my younger brother to listen to records. What could fourth graders be listening to? Andy put on “Paranoid” by Black Sabbath. When he was in sixth grade, Andy won a contest to go on KZOK and have his own radio show for three hours. He had a couple of bits worked out, did a Mister Rogers impression, played a lot of KISS and Alice Cooper. He was brilliant. Later, he called it “depressing.” He realized his dream of being a disc jockey was over — there was no immediate feedback from the audience. Andy said, “Now I’m going to have to be a rock star.”

  The incomparable Landrew the Love God

  REGAN HAGAR: I liked him right away. We were both outsiders to the scene. And he accepted me being a punk rocker. He had long hair at the time — I was a little confused why he was so open to everything. They just made a movie about him [2005’s Malfunkshun: The Andrew Wood Story], and they didn’t necessarily talk about what a comedian he was. He used to tell me if he didn’t make it in rock ’n’ roll, he was going to be a stand-up comedian, and I think he would have been successful at either. We discovered a lot of things together — drugs and whatever else.

  KEVIN WOOD: He brought home his first bag of weed when he was in seventh grade. Me and my brothers were always partying. The only drug problem we had was when we ran out of drugs — otherwise, we were OK. Brian and Andy fought a lot, but I think it was mostly lighthearted. Brian would tease Andy — Andy was younger. Andy would blow up and Brian would laugh — it was kind of a game for Brian to see how he could push Andy’s buttons. It was 1980 or 1981; Andy and I decided we were going to skip out on Easter dinner at my grandma’s house. We stayed home and made a tape — we called it Malfunkshun. Later, we hooked up with a drummer and bass player. After a while, we got together with Regan, who became the drummer, and we formed as a three-piece.

  SCOTTY CRANE: In 1980, my family moved to Bainbridge Island. One of the first people I met — because they lived two doors down — was the Wood family. I met Andy on the school bus. We got off at the same stop, walked down to his house. Regan and Kevin were there — they were about to practice. There was always craziness with Kevin and Brian. Kevin was really sweet and the oldest — kind of Andy’s caretaker. Brian was insane and somewhat dangerous. There was one story I remember with Brian that his mother had told him to cut his hair or quit drinking. So he came home drunk with a bald head! And his mom moved out — I think disappeared for a month or something. There was a lot of stress in that house.

  DAVE REES: I got my chance to perform with Andy in 1981. Malfunkshun was just forming and didn’t have a bass player. I borrowed a bass from a friend and joined Malfunkshun, despite the fact that I had never played before. Our first show [was] near a strawberry field — Andy called it “the Strawberry Jam.” On the way to the show, my 1970 Buick Estate Wagon was filled with equipment, so Andy and Regan rode on the roof. When we got to the gig, Andy’s hair was gone — Regan had cut it off. Andy went on stage with a T-shirt that had a crossed out swastika — he was anti-hate, but had not come up with “love rock” yet. I later moved to Seattle and did the world a favor — gave my bass to Andy.

  REGAN HAGAR: We would [wear makeup in public]. One time we each did half of our faces — he would do the left side and I would do the right side. I remember going to a basketball game one time like that — people just freaking out.

  SCOTTY CRANE: Andy was so likeable as a person — onstage and off. He was so welcoming into his world that he could get away with anything. Even though he had a heart of gold, he did some really awful things that other people would not get away with. And with Andy, it becomes part of his folklore and part of his legend. One of the things — in high school, there was this guy — I’m guessing he made up this rumor, that he walked into this guy’s room, and found [him] fucking a bag of marshmallows and smelling a can of tuna fish. And everyone believed it! The guy was just tortured by it. There was this other guy; he graduated in the early ’80s. He lived on a goat farm and Andy made up a rumor that this guy was fucking his goats. In 1995, a friend of mine was going to Evergreen State College, and said that there was this older student there that everyone called “The Goat Man.” I asked him what his name was, and I’m like, “Oh my fucking God — this poor guy!” It followed him all the way to Evergreen — for twenty years! Those are really mean, horrible things to say about people, but yet Andy got away with it.

  There was a band in Seattle that played the high school dance that Malfunkshun had wa
nted to play. I wasn’t at this dance, but the story that I heard is that Andy and Regan went, were mad about not playing, and maced the band. And got away with it! But that might be a myth.

  REGAN HAGAR: Malfunkshun wasn’t trying to play at the high school dance. We were at a dance, held in the cafeteria. There’s a place called the Commons, that are outside, and we were hanging out there. The band was on break, and came walking out to the same area. Andy and I had our hair up, or some kind of eye makeup on, and the guys made some wisecracks. We made some smart-ass comments back about their band. One of the guys did not like that at all — they must have been considerably older than us. [He] came over and tried to grab Andy, and Andy and I had just figured out mace at that time — because Andy in particular was getting beat up quite a bit. He pulled it out and warned the guy, the guy laughed it off and came at Andy, Andy sprayed him, the guy recoiled, and his buddies started coming our way. Andy and I just took off running. The cops pulled us over — it ended up being nothing more than hassled, handcuffed, being put in the cop car. Never had to go deal with the band.

  DUFF McKAGAN: Malfunkshun were playing some gigs on the island, and started to come over to Seattle to play at the Grey Door. There was Andy with his Steinberger bass with no headstock, dressed in KISS makeup. The Grey Door, the biggest gig there was maybe fifty people, and whenever Malfunkshun played, there were probably five or ten. But he would be onstage and point to the left — “I want all of you out there! ” — like he was playing an arena. It instantly endeared you to the guy.

  DAVE REES: Malfunkshun was the loudest and most entertaining three-piece band I’ve ever seen. Yes, they were louder than Motörhead.

  KEVIN WOOD: Everyone had a good time at a Malfunkshun show. It was an open-minded sort of feeling. I was afraid first, of offending the sensibilities of the punk rockers. But they welcomed us with open arms. I think we opened up doors for bands to just come out, be themselves, and play. It’s kind of what started the whole evolution of the punk turns into the rock.