Here we are now...10 years later

I just wanted to pay my yearly respects to the late, great Kurt Cobain.

1991 was a turning point for me. I was 19, in college, and ready for something to change my world. Something did, and it was called Nevermind. I always thought of myself as someone who had diverse musical tastes. I liked soul, R&B, funk, and hip-hop. Throw in country and metal. Give me some Kenny G, anything, for God's sakes. But I never really had any real interest in alternative music. Oh sure, I could groove on The Cure, dance a bit to REM, bang my head to Faith No More. But punk? What's that? Nah. I went to a record store one day with a roommate, and he showed me Nirvana's Bleach, showcasing one of Charles Peterson's trademark photos on the cover. It was noisy, the singer incoherent. I gave my roommate a condescending smirk and returned to my search for the Bell Biv Devoe singles.

Then months later, this song came out, "Smells Like Teen Spirit", loud, crunchy, surprisingly poppy. Amazingly good. Then I saw the video. Kids dancing around, pummeling each other, destroying instruments. Having the time of their lives. Then I saw the credits: Nirvana. Ah, so that's who that band was, I thought.

This song, this album, opened my eyes to the world of alternative music, and I threw myself into that world full force. I broke out the flannel shirts I ignored all through high school, and I grew my balding 'do as long as I could (before it got too ridiculous; picture a 19 year old Filipino with Neil Young's barely there coif). I listened to everything that I could get my hands on. Rollins, Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., Rage Against the Machine. Anything from Seattle: Posies, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Mudhoney. Falling to my knees at the altar of Grunge. Yes, Virginia, there is a poser. And he is me.

But it wasn't about the music and clothing as much as what it represented to me. It was the voice of dissatisfaction, the angst (to be cliche). It was the feeling of being part of something that rebelled against everything I hated: conservativism, hatred, homophobia, racism. It made me more politically aware, and more aware that the world is much larger than my neighborhood. The music was just a doorway to my passion for progressive issues. It made a generation of disaffected and apathetic people get involved.

Not that the music didn't kick ass. It did. Boy, did it ever. One thing about being a young man back then was that loud guitars and wailing, screaming vocals bring out a way to get the rage out. Moshing and screeching along to the music was cathartic and fun. Not only that, I came to appreciate the artistry and the ability of the musicians. Who thought that beautifully layered guitars could go well with deafening feedback? The Smashing Pumpkins were heroes. And Sugar. And Tool. And Nine Inch Nails. And Superchunk. And Grant Lee Bufflalo. And L7. And Primus. And Liz Phair. And 7 Year Bitch. And The Melvins. And Pixies. And...

And so it goes.

When Kurt died, a part of me died as well. But it wasn't the part that of me that believed in the potential of people and power of music (no matter how pessimistic and misanthropic I get). I continued to absorb all kinds of music, attended all sorts of live music shows. All at the expense of my education. To my parents, when they read this, I apologize for the postponing of your retirement...

These days, my music taste is even more diverse. Between me and my wife, we have about 1,000 or so CDs and tapes (okay, sure, that's not a lot by musicphile standards, but hey, a guy's gotta eat) that stretches across many genres. Blues? It's in there. Country? It's in there (okay, no Toby Keith. I detest that flag-waving, crotch grabbing, mullet-growing, insecure fucker). Folk? Yep. Punk? You bet. Rap? Yes, sir. Throw away pop? Got it (There's a Britney album or two in there; it's not as bad as it seems, her being hot notwithstanding). And the collection is growing.

Kurt Cobain is one of the biggest influences of my generation. He made the world better, and he made me better. For that, Kurt, words alone cannot express my gratitude. To quote someone I know, "Your pain was beautiful".