Grunge Is Dead

by Greg Prato

  SCOTTY CRANE: When I listen back to those early recordings of Soundgarden, I’m still in awe. Such an amazing band. They’re one of those things where it’s like … I get so sick of Led Zeppelin because I heard them so much on the radio. But if I stay away from Led Zeppelin for five years and then I listen to it, I’m like, “Oh my God! That’s such an amazing group of four people to get together.” It seems like a frickin’ miracle — the odds of getting that chemistry between four people in Led Zeppelin. And when I think of certain Soundgarden songs, I get the same feeling. The whole is greater than the sum of the parts.

  KIM THAYIL: We were generating interest. We knew we needed someone for no other reason than this — to answer the phone and make phone calls while we were at our jobs. We needed someone to help us get the gigs — especially when some bigger band was coming to play at the Paramount or Moore Theatre. We wanted to be able to get those shows, and Susan was a local promoter we thought could help us out in getting these gigs, maybe booking tours. And we were starting to get interest from labels. We were about to make a record with Sub Pop — we knew we might have lawyers get involved, we anticipated somewhere down the road we night need an accountant. These were decisions that were going to take up a lot of our time, and we needed someone to do that with us — so that was going to be Susan.

  HIRO YAMAMOTO: But then her and Chris were dating at that time — that was the other part of it.

  SUSAN SILVER: I’d met Chris at a vintage clothing store that I’d worked in, and we started going out. They’d been a band already for about a year. A friend, Faith Henschell, who worked at KCMU, was sending these compilation tapes out to people. And someone from a record company heard it and called. In the meantime, Bruce Pavitt had been introduced to Jonathan Poneman through Kim. I had no intention of managing Soundgarden — I’d been managing the U-Men and a pop group, the First Thought. One thing led to another, and I started doing their business — just to help them out.

  I can’t remember how they felt [about Chris and I dating]. I didn’t want to manage Soundgarden in the beginning — it was by default. It was just too Spinal Tap at that point. But nobody else was there to help them — no regrets about that whatsoever. The thing that I really tried to keep conscious of at all times was their feelings — I tried to keep a field of neutrality, and let everyone know that I was there for all of them, and not just as “the singer’s girlfriend” [laughs]. I guess the fact that I’m still really close to the other three guys says how that worked out.

  ART CHANTRY: [Susan] was into control — she controlled everything. And because she was such a kingmaker, she was given the ultimate power in the Seattle scene. Very few people have that amount of power. I mean, she was even more powerful than Sub Pop. Oh my God. She knew how to work it because she had EST [Erhard Seminars Training] training, essentially. She was afraid of nothing. She used to be a stringer at The Rocket — I remember her showing up at Rocket parties. I remember when she first showed up with her new boyfriend, Chris. He’s like the only guy in [Soundgarden] that didn’t go to college. Keep in mind, Kim had some kind of degree in philosophy, Matt had serious jazz training, and Hiro [earned] his pharmacology degree. These guys were serious scholars — they were pretty heavy-duty guys. And they had this lead singer who was this beautiful guy who dropped out of high school, and he was [later] married to the manager. Talk about your difficult power structure.

  She was awesome — just like Courtney Love was awesome. Whenever these little musical subcultural scenes develop — power, control, participation, and thought is pretty much evenly divided among everybody. Women and men are equal, and they’re all equally working the system and working the power. And then as soon as money enters the picture, the men push their way to the front and start grabbing, and the women get shoved out. And to see women who actually survive in these systems and remain powerful — the overcompensation joke you hear about with women in corporate environments, well, it’s times a thousand in rock circles. The women who survived in these scenes in the Northwest were very special people. Susan, Courtney Love, people like that — wow. Kathleen Hanna — oh my fucking God. These people are astonishing — they’re like superhuman. And they’re a little on the scary side too. Anybody who survives this kind of a scene and prospers, they really have to have this edge that is lethal. It’s really weird to watch this whole process work. Endlessly fascinating.

  JOHN BIGLEY: [The U-Men] came back from this tour — it turned into four months — and ran into Hiro. Hiro goes, “You guys should tour more, because we’ve been getting these kick-ass shows — the shit’s on! ” [Laughs.] They had more impact earlier than Nirvana — Soundgarden had a little jump on them as far as the local buzz deal. I laugh my ass off — they used to open for us and we’d pay them fifty bucks. Fast-forward a few years, I’m in the basketball arena, and I’m backstage sitting in their dressing room — bumming beers off ’em [laughs].

  CHAPTER 9

  “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should”: The Melvins, Green River, Screaming Trees

  Along with Malfunkshun and Soundgarden, three other bands are considered to be important “proto-grunge” contributors — the Melvins, Green River, and the Screaming Trees. While all three create their own unique spin on classic hard rock sounds, all have roots in punk rock, as well.

  DALE CROVER: I’m from the now-famous Aberdeen, Washington — famous for not much besides unemployment and a failing logging industry. There wasn’t much to do there, and there wasn’t that many bands. I had older friends that played in local cover bands — one that ended up becoming Metal Church. Through one of the guys in that band, I discovered all kinds of heavy metal — Judas Priest, Iron Maiden. When I was thirteen or fourteen, I played in some really bad cover bands. That’s really all there was — if you wanted to be in a band, [you’d] play with people that wanted to do high school dances. To do these shows, it was covers of the day. I liked a lot heavier stuff — that’s all I could get my hands on. I did play with another guy — this wild guitar player. He tried to play Randy Rhoads–type stuff, but he couldn’t really do it, so it would come out being this crazy, noisy thing. We were this weird two-piece instrumental band. He was the first guy to do drop-D tuning, which later inspired the Melvins to do the same thing, which in turn inspired a ton of other bands to do the same thing. It all came from that guy.

  The Melvins’ Dale Crover, mammoth drums, and a whole bunch of graffiti

  TIM HAYES: In ’79–’80, I worked at DJ’s Sound City at the Wishkah Mall, in Aberdeen. I would try to convince the manager to order Saints records — he’d get promos of Saints, Richard Hell, Stranglers, Dead Boys. He’d go, “Tim, take them. I don’t want them played in the store.” That was my introduction to my record collection, basically. Buzz [Osborne] and Matt [Lukin] would come in — I’d pitch them on a Black Flag or Adverts record. They started jamming together. I remember they’d come in and go, “Hey Tim, we started a band. We’re doing some Clash covers and stuff.” The early part of the Melvins was just a ripping, fast, punk rock/hardcore band. Then all of a sudden it seemed to shift into this “how slow can you go” type band. People at the time were secret Black Sabbath fans. Whereas the Melvins turned that all upside down, like, “This shit’s really cool, and we can add a punk edge to it.” Now they’re like the forefathers of the whole thing.

  KURDT VANDERHOOF: I became friends with Buzz — we were in junior college together. He started borrowing all my first generation punk records. Apparently, that was influential in the formation of the Melvins.

  DALE CROVER: There was this one cover band I played in — we had this show that was on the radio. It was for an organization called the Sunshine Kids — they got volunteers to take mentally disabled people to their jobs, or grocery shopping. So they’re having this Christmas program — it was at the Elks Hall in Aberdeen. My band showed up, and there were these other guys there — the Melvins. They were from the neighboring town, Montesano. They played, and it was totally
crazy. I’d seen [the 1979 Ramones film] Rock ’n’ Roll High School and I knew Motörhead, and these guys were a cross between those two bands. They would play all these really fast songs. And the radio station that this was on was in Aberdeen — their playlist was Kenny Loggins and light country stuff. For these guys to be on the radio was pretty crazy. There’s a record out that has part of that performance on it [2005’s Mangled Demos from 1983]. Watching this guy in a cowboy hat trying to introduce them and talk to them between songs — which, there weren’t any spaces between songs — was pretty funny. That was my first introduction to punk rock.

  TRACY MARANDER: They didn’t really look punk rock — all of the other bands looked punk rock or new wave–ish. But they played very fast and did KISS covers.

  CHARLES PETERSON: I just remember them as these crazy, weird fucking guys from the hicks. I have a picture of the Butthole Surfers playing at the Gorilla Gardens, and Buzz in the audience.

  DALE CROVER: Then I saw those guys open up for Metal Church in Aberdeen — Metal Church’s first show. Everybody was really confused when they played. But everybody was into it at the end, because Krist Novoselic — who was a popular guy at high school — came out and played “Sunshine of Your Love” with them. It was way before Krist was in any other band — it wasn’t too long later that Krist brought both of those guys over my house, Matt and Buzz, because they were looking for a new drummer. He’s the guy who introduced us, and I’ve been in the band ever since.

  There wasn’t any place to play in Aberdeen. You’d maybe play a kegger party, high school dances — that was it. If you could play anywhere else, that was amazing. So when those guys came over and asked me to join, I knew they played gigs out of town. I was like, “That’s great, we could play in Olympia!” That’s like a big city compared to Aberdeen. I thought [Buzz] was Chinese — I couldn’t tell. There weren’t too many Chinese people in Aberdeen, I guess it was my vision of what a Chinese person would look like. Then I thought he might be gay — he was kind of fucking around with Krist Novoselic, wrestling or something, and I thought that was kind of odd. Then I realized that’s just his way of fucking around. We would have “van fights” — where it would be like one person sleeping and then you punch him in the balls. That stuff still goes on, believe it or not — we’re still stuck in the eighth grade. [His hair] wasn’t as big and crazy, but it was definitely a fro. Other people when they see Buzz ask if he’s Middle Eastern or where he’s from. He’s got some kind of roots traced back to West Virginia. One time we broke down by where his family is from, and it’s just real hicks-ville.

  JEFF GILBERT: Buzz looks like something out of Sideshow Bob.

  TOM HAZELMYER: One of the first shows I saw [at Gorilla Gardens] was Hüsker Dü — they were friends from back home. One of the opening bands was the Melvins. I expected some generic, second generation hardcore, but when they started playing, I remember standing there with my mouth open, and turning to Bob Mould, who had the same expression as me. All he could say was “Holy fuck!” Imagine the Melvins playing their trademark intense riffing and strange changeups and time signatures — but at hardcore speed.

  DAWN ANDERSON: I saw them really early on — this show they did with Soundgarden. Matt Lukin was insane at that show — doing all this posturing, and acting like a lead guitarist, even though he was a bass player. I remember overhearing some of the art rock people saying, “Do these guys know that this is a joke?”

  DALE CROVER: Buzz was inspired by Black Flag’s My War — side two — that everybody hated. A lot of people like it now, but at the time, all the punkers were like, “This isn’t fast, we can’t slam to this.”

  STU HALLERMAN: A few years later I did sound for them, in Olympia. The first band for me was almost the sound check — I struggled to get a decent mix on them. Here come the Melvins — Dale in his underwear, setting up these huge, huge drums. Just giant, empty cavernous drums, with no pillows or padding in them. We do the set change, get everyone miked up, go back to the mixing board, the drum sticks come down, and the guitar is hit, and my jaw dropped. OH MY GOD! An enormous, giant, godlike sound coming off stage. The Melvins had changed. I still get bands coming into my studio now that claim lineage to the Melvins’ sound — Earth, Sunn O))) — very much emulating what the Melvins carved out back in those days.

  DALE CROVER: There’s one show where we played with [Green River] — our van was screwed up, so we borrowed their gear. Playing on the drummer’s set, he had a really huge bass drum. He was going for a Jerry Nolan/New York Dolls–type thing — I think a 26-inch bass drum. And I was like, “Wow, this is awesome!” And he’s like, “Good luck finding one. I had to order this and it took six months to get.” I went to this music store in Olympia maybe a week later, and I’m like, “You guys have a 26-inch bass drum?” And they’re like, “Well, not a single drum — a whole set that has a 26-inch bass drum, a 20-inch floor tom.” I was like “Eeeeee! OK — here’s a down payment of 25 cents, can I buy it?” That’s how I got into big drums.

  I remember when we went to record, it was either our first seven-inch or the first Deep Six comp. Recorded that with Chris Hanzsek — at this studio, Ironwood. The owner came out, I had my drums set up and they’re miking them. He’s like, “Ugh, these things sound disgusting!” The heads were all caved in — you could eat cereal off them. Soup bowls. I would fool the sound guy at whatever place we were playing. I would have a pillow in it while we were setting up, and then right before we’d play, I’d have the guys hand me the pillows out of the bass drum.

  [The shows were] always fun — they weren’t real well attended. In Olympia and Seattle people liked the Melvins. Then when we did play out of state, people didn’t like it at all. The one thing that the Seattle music scene had going for it — all these bands had their own unique style. Like, “There’s this band, Malfunkshun, that’s ‘punk rock KISS,’ Soundgarden is this weird blues band, almost Zeppelin-esque.” And then our band, those guys were into all kinds of different music. It wasn’t just like, “We only like listening to Black Flag.” It’s like, “We listen to classic rock and Black Flag. And weird new wave stuff like Blondie and Devo, and we still listen to KISS, Queen, and Lynyrd Skynyrd.” They didn’t have any musical prejudice at all.

  STEVE TURNER: They ended up sounding like the Swans, and they never even heard of the Swans! Then they bought a Swans record, thought it sucked, and continued to listen to KISS [laughs].

  BLAINE COOK: It was too slooow and dragging for me at that point in time.

  JOHN LEIGHTON BEEZER: I used to listen about five minutes and go, “Got it. Heavy. I will now go home and shoot myself.” It’s almost like eating a fistful of sugar — I like sugar, it generally makes everything better, but it’s just way too much.

  JOE NEWTON: Here was a band that seemed to be coming from outer space.

  HIRO YAMAMOTO: They all came out in Star Trek costumes one time. The Melvins were so scary [laughs].

  JEFF AMENT: Green River played maybe our third show with the Melvins, at the Grey Door. I remember seeing Krist Novoselic — I think he was driving the van and helping out with their guitars. I’d never seen somebody helping out a punk rock band, sort of teching. I remember playing Buzz’s Les Paul, and it hardly had any frets on it — the frets were super-low. I was like, “Wow, this guitar is the easiest guitar I’ve ever played.” A frickin’ killer band.

  MARK IVERSON: I was watching the Melvins, and Buzz was so into it. At the end of the show, he just collapsed. He passed out right in front of me — someone grabbed a pitcher of water and threw it on him.

  JEFF GILBERT: Their fan base was insanely loyal — would follow them anywhere. Kurt Cobain in particular — almost at every show.

  VAN CONNER: I remember the Melvins being super loud. They played all the time — that was their life.

  NILS BERNSTEIN: What struck me about the Melvins early on was that their Black Sabbath thing wasn’t at all ironic or comic — which is a given with bands now, but was
n’t then. The other band then that was so blatant with the ’70s metal influence was Green River, but they played it a little bit for laughs — at least in their outfits, if not musically.

  DAWN ANDERSON: In the early days of it, say the mid-to-late ’80s when Green River started, there was a big element of humor in it that just didn’t really translate to the rest of the world. A lot of it was they were posturing and saying, “Isn’t this funny, we’re so heavy metal, ha ha.” Eventually, as time went on, it became OK for it to not be a joke, and for them to say, “We’re going to rock — we’re going to be real extreme about rocking. And if you don’t like it, fuck you.”

  The Melvins’ Buzz Osborne and Matt Lukin

  BRUCE FAIRWEATHER: After a while, [Deranged Diction was] fed up — it wasn’t going anywhere and we were burned out. Steve and Mark had been doing stuff together, so Steve, Jeff, Mark, and Alex formed Green River.

  JEFF AMENT: I saw all those guys at shows. I think the first time I talked to Mark, it was a non-band night [at the Metropolis] and Hugo asked if I wanted to play records. I was still into some ’70s hard rock, so I was mixing Minor Threat, SSD, Black Flag, the Dead Kennedys, and Poison Idea with Aerosmith, maybe a Ted Nugent track. I remember I played a song off Aerosmith Rocks — “Sick as a Dog” or something — and Mark came up and said, “That’s a great song, but the really great song is ‘Nobody’s Fault.’” That broke the barrier. Around that time, he said, “You should come check out my band, Mr. Epp.” I don’t know if it was that night or the next week, but he asked me what I thought. I told him, “You and Steve are cool, but I didn’t really like the rest of it” [laughs]. What they were doing was pretty arty — I was into more structured hardcore stuff .

  STEVE TURNER: [I was] talking to Jeff Ament. We somehow convinced him to be in a band with us. We formed Green River in the spring of ’84. Stone joined after the first show — for more guitar muscle. They were getting more into the metal side of things — they were turned on by Venom.I was not.